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Andrzej
Sightings
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She felt his slathering eyes between her shoulder
blades. Before she could finish turning around she knew it would be him....the
mysterious biker that all the girls were mooning over. He sat there, expressionless,
on his silver & smoke panhead, long dark hair with a streak of grey
and muscles rippling under ancient black leathers, the cadence of the
old V-Twin engine echoing in her ribcage. Embarassed by his frank gaze,
she dropped her eyes for a moment, but when she overcame her shyness,
he was no longer there.
She looked at her watch. "Oh God! I'm
going to be late!" and she started to run to the bar where she was
supposed to meet the B&W's, the coolest gang of wenches in town, to
see if she would be admitted into the clique. Breathless, she dashed into
the bar just about colliding with Snow, the defacto leader of the B&W's.
It was reputed that she had gotten her name from a wild party where Snow
had snorted the most lines of anyone there. All the others were there
too: Rump, Easy, Dope, Nurse, Ash, Grin and Cat, yattering on about who
the strange biker was and what they would do to him, could they just entice
him into their clutches.
Being rather shy, she was very apprehensive
about what initiation rites might be inflicted upon her, and what name
the gang would pick. She had heard nightmare stories from candidates that
had failed to make the grade and rumour had it that your name was picked
to elicit the utmost in public humiliation. But she wanted the approval
of the B&W, the crest with the member number for her leather jacket,
and unconciously, the boost to her self-confidence that belonging would
bring.
"Yo, ladies....here's our next victim",
Snow barked at her. "What name do you think fits our little wilting
violet here?", as the others laughed and offered rude suggestions,
each more crude than the next. Cutting off the giggles with a cold glance,
Snow exclaimed...."I know...she'll be known as Red, IF she can pass
the test."
A hot flush rose up her chest and into her
face at the mention of "Red". The feeling of shame, so many
years ago, running through the halls, everyone's laughter echoing in her
head slammed into her. Why had she worn the white jeans that day? How
could she have forgotten to count the days? Again, the desire to curl
up and die threatened to overwhelm her as it had that day. Gritting her
teeth, she squelched the thought, and tried to stare cooly back into Snow's
taunting eyes, almost succeeding.
It was enough it seemed. Snow glanced at the
other members, and with an evil grin, said, "Well....I think she's
been named, now all she needs to do is to show that she can hunt wolves
with the best of the B&W'S, right girls?", amid the hysterical
cawing of the rest of the pack. She was bewildered? What kind of a test
was this? There hadn't been wolves in the woods past the town limits for
hundreds of years, had there?
The raucous group all piled into a couple of
cages and rode out to the forest. "OK, the wolf hunt begins!",
yelled Snow, as she pushed Red towards the dark and dismal trees. "Go
get one by the tail, Red....we'll be right behind you!".
The groups cruel laughter echoed in the trees
as the darkness of the forest enveloped her. What was she supposed to
do on this supposed "wolf hunt?" She wended her way through
the underbrush, branches tugging at her arms and hair. Raspberry cane
abrading her skin, as the bush became almost impenetrable. Little did
she realize that the others had gone back to the car to crack a few beers,
gossip some more about who the strange biker that made them squirm in
their jeans was, and to await the inevitable frightened cries of Red once
she lost her way in the woods.
Her breath was coming in gasps from the exertion
and the fear that encloaked her in the stillness of the forest. Her legs
felt like someone had poured lead into them, and her arms stung bitterly
from the scratching of the thorns at every turn, when unexpectedly, a
small mossy clearing materialized in front of her. A tall oak stood nearby,
and with a furitive glance to make sure that none of the B&W's were
about to see, she gratefully slipped down onto the soft turf and leaned
against the rough bark for a quick rest. The clouds parted and a warm
beam of sunlight streamed down and bathed her tired and aching body, bringing
with it an irresistable lethargy. Her eyes inexorably closed as the warmth
of the late-afternoon sun soaked her skin.
The scent of damp fur and a barely audible
growl brought her back to conciousness. Her heart pounded in her chest,
as gruesome visions of her body being slashed by cruel fangs clouded her
mind. As she struggled to open her eyes and face the nightmare that stalked
her, the growl intensified, ever closer, and she squeezed her eyelids
tighter, petrified. The smell of wild animal was overpowering, and she
could feel the hot breath of the beast on her cheek, as she braced herself
for the onslaught, tears of fright leaking down from her tightly shut
eyes. Stiff whiskers brushed her face as an impossibly soft tongue delicately
licked the grimy streaks left by her tears. The growl receded to a sub-audible
rumble, and the long, warm tongue soothed the sting and the hurt brambles
had left on her arms. The touch of fur burned against her skin, but still
she feared to open her eyes. A sharp fang caught in the waistband of her
jeans, and ripped it's way down, the fabric parting like silk over a razor's
edge, leaving a fine line on her hip. Then the hot tongue, impossibly
long, probing, lapping, licking, stroking.....her heels dug into the moss
as her hands clutched at the roots of the oak, and her awareness slipped
away like a wolf in the shadows.
She awoke in purple twilight, as the last rays
of the sun receded behind the treeline and a moon rose over the glade.
How long had she slept there? What was the meaning of this dream that
had consumed her? As she stood, she noticed the cut in her jeans and the
long scratch that angled down her hip. Where were the the others? Weren't
they supposed to have been right behind her? Clutching the cut edges of
her jeans together with one hand, she re-entered the inky black of the
forest edge, but to her surprise, she could easily see and avoid the bracken
that had punished her so on the way in. The night sounds were crisper
than she had ever remembered and the dank mustiness of the forest floor
was pungent in her nose.
As she stepped out from the shadow-shrouded
forest, she saw the B&W's off in the cars, partying the night away
and oblivious to her long absence. She felt more than heard the low growl
through the soles of her feet, as it grew to a steady throbbing. The sounds
of the party died away as the rumble penetrated the alcohol-induced anesthetized
senses of the women in the cars. Their heads turned as one towards the
hill that was barely visible above the trees. Silouetted in the silvery
moonlight was the enigmatic stranger, his Harley glinting amidst the night
shadows and the source of the pounding rumble. A cold shiver ran up the
spines of the B&G's as he tossed back his mane of grey-black hair
and howled up at the moon.
Walking to the now silent occupants of the
cars, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, the echo of
that wolf-like cry filling her head. Stepping into the soft glow of the
moon, a brilliant yellow glint reflected from the corner of her eye, and
then vanished into the dark night.
.....to be continued.....
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All text and images Copyright © 1998-1999 Andrzej Jan Taramina.
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Last modified on
October 24, 2001
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