Draganna's blog: "Musings and Stuff"

One should always begin at the beginning...but that wouldn't be any fun, so indulge me for a few brief moments. It's rather late, I'm a little sleepy and actually jones-ing for a cigarette. I gave up smoking fourteen months ago, the urge to light up almost always hits me when I'm plugging away on the computer.

I think to begin, I will fall back upon a story I have been working on as a means of introduction. I'll try to continue to writing, though I make no promises as to its quality. I've never claimed to be good at it. I do however enjoy it.

Eden Pirelli was always a rebellious young woman. She hadn’t ceased to rebel once she reached adulthood. The daughter of seemingly “well to do” conservative family in the lower Midwest, she was out on her own by the time she was barely seventeen. Home was just too much to handle for her. The façade of her family shattered when she finally broke free from them after having suffered an adolescence of sexual abuse at the hands of her step father. Not even her own mother would listen when she pleaded with the woman to see the man for what he truly was, a heartless bastard. Three weeks after her seventeenth birthday, Eden took the savings she had as well as numbers to the trust account set aside for her by her grandfather before he passed on, and she ran.

She settled just outside New Orleans, taking on a job waitressing in a roadside bar and grill which was a hot spot for bikers traveling from all over the world. It was there that she discovered her love of Harleys and the men who rode them. She got involved with more than a few of them romantically, and wasn’t uncommon to find her drunk or stoned being passed around as a party favor more than a few rallies. That changed however when she met, Jacob.

Jacob was as he liked to call himself “an old bit of biker trash”, and he adored Eden, often telling her that she reminded him of the daughter that he’d lost. Taking her under his wing and careful tutelage, Jacob set her on the current path in her life. He taught her everything there was to know about building, and fixing a bike, giving her something she could sink herself into, finding that self esteem years of sexual abuse had taken from her. She still owns and rides the old panhead, Jacob left to her to build when he found out that he had less than a year before cancer would take his life. The last six months of his life Jacob and Eden spent together roaring from highway to highway touring the northern Midwest. He died two months after they returned; Eden spread his ashes in Sturgis, South Dakota during the annual rally. She granted the wish for one last ride for the man who had changed her life and given her a reason to be something other than just another biker’s toy.

Today, Eden owns a small custom bike shop called “Choppers from Eden”, her college fund proved to be just enough to purchase the old service station that serves as both her garage and humble lodgings. It is rare to not find her elbow deep in the guts of a bike, whether it’s repairing or building the iron stallions that find their way through her garage doors. Upon the wall in the office of the shop is a framed photo of Jacob and Eden sitting astride their bikes at a scenic rest view point of the Grand Canyon. When people ask who Jacob is, her answer is simple, “That’s my Dad.”

She heard the thunderous rumble that announced the arrival of several bikes outside the shop. It was early in the evening, and she had a deadline to keep with the bike she was currently rewiring, so she didn’t cease to work until the moment when she heard the gravelly voices loudly immersed in banter amongst themselves as they stepped into the office of “Choppers from Eden.”

Reluctantly she pulled her attention from the diagram of the wiring configuration which was taped to the hard tailed frame of the old sportster. With a quick tug tightening the hair tie that secured her pony tail at the back of her head she brushed the grime from her hands down the front of her coveralls as she made her way across the concrete floor and stepped into the office. Her dark eyes flickered assessingly over the five men that stood before her, each filling the air around them with the warm scent of leather under scored by hint of grease. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor mind you, at least not to Eden. It merely reminded her of who she was, where she had come from, and that no matter what if there’s a Harley it’s bound to need something in the manner of maintenance or repair.

Clearing her throat she at last caught their attentions before she would begin to speak. “Rowdy, Jax, Eddie,” She nodded to the three who were familiar with her as she stepped behind the counter. Casually she allowed her gaze to shift for a moment to the highest shelf built into the counter checking that the sawed off shot gun was still within reach should she need it before she would speak again. “Haven’t seen the three of you since Mardi Gras. Who are your friends?”

Rowdy was the first to speak stepping up to the counter as his eyes roamed over the curves that coveralls failed to disguise. “Evening Babe, It’s been a while hasn’t it. Hadn’t expected to find your sweet ass behind the counter. Oh, yeah this is Leo and Dean…they’re bro’s from way back in the day.” With a lascivious smirk he leaned across the counter all but purring for her ears alone, “You remember back in the day, don’t ya baby. You and I had some good times didn’t we.”

Eden’s jaw tightened slightly at his reference to the summer just before she had met Jacob. Rowdy had been among the many who had plied her with booze and weed in order to guarantee that they’d not sleep alone. He had at least been one of the few who hadn’t knocked the shit out of her for trying to refuse. She pulled her eyes from him glancing to the counter. “Yeah Rowdy, we had some good times. Now what do you want? I’m busy.”

Rowdy’s face fell into a soured expression as if she had just slapped him. With a sudden shove, he pushed away from the counter with a snort and a cockeyed smirk. “Right…Leo here’s looking for a new look for his pony, ain’t ya Leo?”

The figure closest to the door pushed past the three between himself and the counter. He was aptly named judging by the thick waves of his dark mane which were tucked neatly beneath a bandana and tied in a single braid which ran down the center of his back. He was incredibly tall nearly six feet and six inches. It was the look in his eyes that caught her off guard however; there was something oddly feral about them that she couldn’t quite place. They were predatorial, though unlike the primal lust which lingered in the eyes of the four who surrounded him; his eyes were almost serene in their expression as though he knew something that they did not. It was as if he alone could break down any barrier a person could put up to keep the world from finding their inner thoughts. In fact it was like looking into the intelligent gaze of a wolf. His voice was a deep, intimate growl which demanded attention even if only for the soft spoken nature in which it was expressed. He stared at her for a moment before addressing her, studying her intently. “Rowdy says you can cherry out a bike better than most guys, that true?”

Her dark gaze fixed on his intently until she could no longer take the intensity of his presence, she nodded slightly. “Rowdy’s brought in a few clients, who’ve left wishing they could screw their bikes rather than ride them.” She offered the smallest of smirks.

“She’s full of shit, there’s no way she can build a bike better than Scooter Johnson. Have you seen his ride? That thing is sweeeet!”

Rowdy spun sharply around shaking his head. “Eden built that bike you stupid fuck; Scooter just likes to bullshit anyone who’d believe him. That asshole’s too much of a drunk to build his kid a bicycle.”

Leo spared a disapproving glance over his shoulder before fixing his attention on the woman before him once more. “When can you begin?” Eden smiled very faintly as she reached for her appointment schedule. A slender finger caked with grease beneath her nails traced an invisible line down the length of the page coming to pause on the first empty slot. “It wouldn’t be until next Wednesday, you can bring the bike by around…one. Don’t be late.”

His response was a brief nod and a secreted smile as he stepped back from the counter. “One on Wednesday then…”

Giving her a departing nod he stepped out into the last of glimmers of the descending sun, followed by his companions. Rowdy paused at the door to get one last look at Eden. With a teasing smile he jerked his head toward the door, “He’s single…”

Eden rolled her eyes, waving him out the door. “Goodnight Rowdy.”

“See ya around babe.” With that he too stepped outside. The sudden thunder of deafening motors rattled the window of the office as Eden stepped around the counter and crossed the dingy tiled floor to lock the door and pull the thin chain of the open sign, clicking it off. Some things never seemed to change, she thought as she locked the garage before returning to the wiring she had been working on.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when her head finally began to ache with the concentration she had invested into wiring the old bike up. Zip tying the last connections in place she cleaned up her work space, wiped off her tools and headed for the steps that led to the loft apartment above the office.

The small TV buzzed to life with images of Xena reruns as she slipped out of her coveralls and stepped into the shower. The steaming air accompanied by the hot spray hitting her tightly knit muscles, soothed and lulled her into something of a dreamy state of peace. Her shower lasted fully until the water began to lose its heat and the last of the jasmine shower gel rinsed in thick suds down her curving form to mingle with the water that swirled down the drain.

Eden skipped eating that night entirely, opting for an early night’s rest with the heady relaxation of her shower had soothed away the stresses of her day’s work. Crawling beneath a heavy pile of comforters and blankets, she was further lulled into a state of rest as she was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and darkness. It wasn’t long before her breaths were taken in slow deep exchanges of inhales and exhales, and her eyes fell heavy beneath their lids….Soon the dreams would come.