Warning: the following contains adult situations and extreme language. If you are easily offended, or just are not old enough legally to be viewing this, please leave now. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Becoming Antonia

By Toni Trepasso

 

From Chapter One

Mom, took this time to tell me that after she found out about what happened, she called work and told them and that my lawyer had contacted them and taken care of everything. Also that they agreed to wait to see how I was when I woke up as to if and or when I was coming back.

So that being settled we left for home right around lunch time. Mom asked me where I wanted to eat. I looked at my watch and saw that if we hurried we could miss the lunch rush at the Dinosaur. As we pulled up I took a deep breath, and started to sweat. Mom told me that they kept it out of the papers about what had happened, and that she and I would be the only ones who would know here.

As we went in our hostess was someone I used to work with when I was behind the parts counter at the local Hardly Dangerous dealer, (you think I’m that nuts to get sued for copyright violations?)  so I had to play it cool and not do anything stupid. Surprisingly, lunch was rather un-eventful, well, other then the fact that I couldn’t eat half of what I used to be able to do. (The Dinosaur has this platter called the “Tres Grand Hombre’s” it’s half a chicken, a ˝  rack of ribs, and ˝ pound of pulled pork, two sides and corn bread. I used to pound one of those and then get a piece of home made pie.) I took my “to go” box and we headed back “home.”

Chapter Two

Sleep was not easy that night. I kept thinking about everything that was happening to my life. When morning finally came, I woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. I got up as I normally did, still in the shorts and t-shirt I went to bed in, and walked into the kitchen of mom’s apartment. Before I rounded the corner, I announced my arrival.

“Wow mom, that smells great!”

As I turned the corner and entered the kitchen, I was shocked to see my step dad standing over the stove, flipping the bacon, and making fresh cut home fries.

“Oh, sorry Doug, I thought mom was in here.”

“No, she is in on the computer. Besides, I usually do breakfast on our days off.”

“Oh, well it smells good anyway”

“So Toni, how do you want your eggs?”

“Um.... I’m allergic to them, just like mom is. Sorry Doug.”

“No sweat, there’s bread in the bread box, and cereal in the cupboard. So help yourself. The rest of this will be ready shortly.”

“Ok, thanks.”

I hugged him and then went to see mom, in the computer room. She took one look at me and knew I had a rough night.

“Wow, you look like shit.” She laughed as she looked at me.

“Love you too mom. Besides, I kept thinking about everything all night.”

“Thought this might happen. After breakfast I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it mom? Come on, tell me. You know how I hate surprises... especially lately.”

I gave her a half smile, and she just grinned back at me like the Cheshire Cat. Doug’s timing was impeccable, as he called us to eat, right before I was about to lay into my mother for keeping something from me. I won’t bore you with the meal, since nothing really happened.

After I helped mom load the dish washer she told me to put on a pair of jeans, and the black boots we’d bought over the weekend. I gave her a look of confusion and shrugged while I went to change. When I came out she lead me out to the garage area of the complex they lived in.

“I know all this has been hard on you Toni, so when Doug and I picked up your things from your dad’s we decided to bring an old friend back with us.”

I just looked at her like she was speaking in a different language, as she lead me to their garage unit, and opened the door. I just stood there in complete shock. The woman who never wanted me to have a motorcycle had taken the time, effort and given up the garage space she used for her new car to bring the bike I had spent all winter building out of a used ‘78 Honda 750 and a rigid frame I bought off the internet. My emotions got the better of me and I started to cry as I threw my arms around her and cried.

“Come on, wipe those tears away and try on the new chaps and jacket Doug got you.”

“But mom, what am I going to do for a helmet? I doubt my old one will fit me at all.”

She pointed to the box on the seat of the bike and I just looked back at her not really knowing what to do. She nodded at me and I went to open it up. As I pulled out what was in it, I saw the most beautiful helmet I’ve ever seen. She had a brand new helmet painted to match the mural I had painted on the tank of my bike.

“But mom , how do you know if this will fit?”

“Trust me. They measured your entire body at the hospital, and you and I have the same size heads now. So try it on and see.”

I did, and she was right, it did fit perfect. She handed me the chaps and light weight leather riding jacket and both fit as if they were tailor made for me. (Remind me to thank Doug later.) I threw my leather clad leg over my old friend. ( I call it that, because it’s taken me 3 years to get the parts to build it the way I wanted to. Since I bought it, I’ve ridden it over 10000 miles, and turned all the wrenches to keep it running in the mean time.) I turned the key, jumped on the kick start, and just like it always does, it fired right up, and settled into a low grumble. (It’s an inline 4 cylinder, so no throaty rumble like one of those beasts with the V-twins.) I let it warm up a bit and went back over to mom and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks. Maybe this will help clear my head.”

She just nodded and watched as I climbed back on, and checked the gas to see how much was in the tank. (Easy job, just unscrew the gas cap and look in. If you see fuel, you’re good to go for about 200 miles. If you don’t, it’s time to fuel up.) I waved to her one last time and put the bike in gear slowly easing out of the garage. I found my way out to the main road and pointed the bike west to go ride the finger lakes for a while. (Beautiful area to ride, even in a car. A lot of wineries, and other scenic spots.)

It was still early in the spring, so there was a crisp bite still in the air as I started down Rt. 20, heading toward the finger lakes. I knew that if anything was going to make me feel better, even if for a little while it would be a good ride. It’s the best way to get your mind clear. My new frame being what is called a rigid, means there are no back shocks, so the rear tire is bolted right to the frame, as is the seat. This can lead to a bone jarring experience if you don’t keep an eye out for bumps and potholes, but it’s the best way to feel as one with the bike. Every vibration in the frame in felt in your body, so it’s not for the “tender ass.”

I turned onto Rt21 south and ended up stopping in Penn Yan for fuel. I got off the bike, and stretched one of those good stretches you do after you’ve been sitting in one place for too long, when this redneck comes swaggering over and starts putting his cow pie handling meat hooks on my new paint. (For those of you who don’t know anyone with a bike. NEVER touch the paint, chrome or leather, without asking. You’ve now been warned.)

“Excuse me? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Relax babe, I’m just admiring your old man’s bike.”

I now realize I need to educate this poor boy in the finer art of manners. I swipe his grubby paw off my tank and glare at him with a clenched fist, as his hand slings out to his side.

“1.... this is my ride. I don’t have an “old man” nore do I want one. And 2, you better make sure who you’re calling babe, you redneck inbred hick. Now why don’t you climb back into your truck, and go crawl back into the corn field that you came from.”

Then it dawned on me. This guy was now at least twice my size, and most likely stronger then I used to be, let alone am now. So I put on my best poker face and just glare at him. He started to say something but his buddies in his truck blew the horn and yelled for him to come on.

“This ain’t over you dike bitch!”

“Oh, I think it is!”

There was a voice from the other side of the pump from me that I recognized. Captain Brown! Talk about timing.

“And if you ever come near my daughter or her bike again, you’ll have me to deal with.”

It took a second for his words to sink in for me, but the redneck understood loud and clear as he stomped back to his truck and pealed out of the station. That’s when the word “daughter” sunk in. I turned around and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Thanks Cap. That could have got pretty ugly back there.”

“I didn’t know you ride Pat.”

“Um, yeah... I’ve been in the saddle for about 5 years now. Oh, and I changed my name. Please call me Toni, with an I”

He nodded and smiled, as he looked at my bike.

“You always looked like a Tony to me... so I guess Toni is fitting. So what are you riding? A Honda what?”

“It’s a ‘78 cb750k with a Super Bob frame from a shop out of Michigan. Most of the parts are from the swap meet. And I finally finished it this past winter.”

“Nice job, who did your paint?”

“I did, I hand brushed the mural on it and even pin striped the fenders myself.”

“Wow, Pa... er, Toni, I always knew you had a lot to offer the world. You think you could do something with my ride?”

I didn’t know what to say. I only did this for my own use, and here was a man I respected from the day I met him 10 years ago, asking me to do his bike for him.

“When can I take a look at what I’d have to start with?”

“Right now if you’d like. We’re heading back to Alfred right now, you remember my wife Cindy?”

I nodded and waved.

“Ma’am. Ok, let’s go then, I want to try to get home before too late tonight.”

I followed him to his house, which meant another hour in the saddle for me. It was just like I remembered it from when I was a student there, a small red colonial with a small front yard and even smaller back yard. We walked down the drive way to the old garage and he showed me his ‘69 pan head.

“Wow, is this stock?”

“Yeah, mostly. I’ve been meaning to do something with it, I just didn’t know what, till I saw your’s today. Can you do some custom paint for me?”

“I suppose I could, it just depends on what you want. I’m not THAT good of an artist. Hell, I traced the mural of my fraternity crest onto my tank.”

He pulled out an old photo album and showed me the pictures of when he was in “Nam.” As we looked thru the book, I could see in his face that he was a very caring man, and each of the men he served with held a special place in his heart. I started to see him in a new light. What he did for me back at the fuel stop started to make more sense. I was one of the people he cared about too.

My thoughts were broken up when he pulled out an old patch from the binder.

“This is what I want on the tank.”

I looked at the old military patch and nodded as I studied it’s lines.

“I think I can do this for you Cap. Though it might take me a while.”

“It’s ok, I don’t have ALL that much time to ride anymore, but when I do ride, I want something to remember the guys I served with, with me.”

“I got it cap. I know how you feel. I never was in the military, but I feel the same way about my brothers. That’s why I got this.” I pulled off my jacket and pulled up my right sleeve to show him my house’s crest on my arm.

“Then it looks like I found the right woman for the job.”

I looked at him funny at first. It took a second to register that he meant me. All day on the bike, and the only time I felt like a woman what at the gas station and now. However of the two times, this was the easier one to handle. I offered my hand to him.

“Just let me know when you can get me your tins, and I’ll get right on it when it get them.”

He shook my hand, and asked for my address. He’d ship them to me ASAP. This is when it dawned on me that I had no idea what my new address was. So I called mom, and told her where I was, and what was going on. She was stoked about the idea, because she helped me paint the bike before I put it on the new frame. (It used to have this awful ‘70's era faring on it, painted robins egg blue. We changed that quickly.) So I said good-bye to Captain Brown and his wife, and started for home, since it was getting late already.

I did a quick top off in Almond for fuel and then pointed myself back toward home. I ended up stopping at the same gas station as earlier for fuel again, I probably could have made it to the Thru-way, but why risk it. Besides gas off the interstate is always cheaper.

I fueled, went in to pay, and started to walk out the door when I saw the same beat up truck from before, pulling in. I sprinted to my bike, and kicked it over with one kick again. Gunned it, and stomped it into gear, laying a patch of rubber behind me as I tried to put as much distance between me and that truck as I could. I blew thru 2 red lights on my way out of town and looked in my rear-views to see a set of head lights gaining on me. It was still dusk, so as I glanced over my shoulder I could make out that it WASN’T a cop car, but that damn truck and most likely that same redneck.

I pulled into a tuck to try to decrease the air drag, and pinned the throttle WFO. I’d never been pinned in 5th gear before. I’ve never had to go this fast before. I glanced up in the mirrors and saw he was still coming. I had no where to go, we are in the middle of farm country, with mostly straight roads. I started to formulate a plan, as he pulled along my right side and rolled down his window.

“What’s the matter hot pants? Daddy not here to bail your ass out?”

This is when I was glad I put that extra loop of metal on the bike, to carry my “attention getter.” (It’s a 4 pound ball-peen hammer. I use it for when I’m in traffic and someone isn’t paying attention to where they are going. As you can guess, a shattering window can get your attention REAL quick.)

I pulled the hammer out of it’s loop and first hit him in the arm, hoping to stun him enough to not expect what was coming next. I glanced up and saw that he was holding his left arm with his right, but his left arm was still out the window since he had just been gesturing to me moments before.

I told myself this is my chance. Better make it good cause I doubt you’ll get a second shot.”

I plunged the big end of the hammer into his windshield and then kicked the front of his tire as I gunned it again to shoot past him. I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see the truck go airborne as it hit the ditch on the side of the road and vault into the field next to it. I didn’t stop or slow down for fear he might still be after me. I quickly found my way to the thru-way, and stopped to tell the officer at the booths what had happened. I showed him my ID, and the paperwork from the lawyer and doctors telling what happened. I called mom, and told her that I was going to be late, and not to worry. As the State Trooper called the county Sherif near by to see what he knew. He said the driver had a broken shoulder from what he claimed was a bitch on a bike, with a hammer. The Trooper told him that he had the woman on the motorcycle, and I had stopped to report they tried to run me off the road. The Sherif told the Trooper that the guys buddies corroborated my side of things saying that he also used “sexually derogatory” slurs toward me as well. The Trooper ended his call, took my statement and told me I was free to go. He also asked if I was free for a ride this coming weekend. I told him that I wasn’t from around there, and that I had a lot of family issues going on that I needed to clear up, and that my ride today was just to clear my head. He gave me his card and told me to call him if I changed my mind.

I thought to myself, “Not a chance in hell. I’m not into guys.”  but said, “We’ll see, officer....” I glanced at his card. “Brown? Any relation to the Captain Brown from Alfred?”

“Oh you mean DAD.”

I just looked at him in shock. I knew Cap had kids this old, but he never said what they were up to these days. Hell, 10 years ago I scared the crap out of this kid on Halloween, when I handed out candy for the local kids in my dorm. (I had cut a circular saw blade to fit my neck, so it looked like it had gone in. I put fake blood on the edges of it, wore dark glasses, and a hat to hide them from being able to see my eyes. I hung a sign from the bowl of candy I held that read “please take only one piece.” Well, Cap’s son reached for a second piece and I grabbed his wrist. You’d have thought he’d seen a ghost. I think he might had wet himself. I feel bad if he did, but I think it’s funny if he didn’t.) Now here was the same kid asking me out on a date.

“Um, you might want to talk to your dad about this. Besides, doesn’t it freak you out that I used to be a guy? I mean, HELLO! You have my ID there.”

“I know all about you Toni. Dad and I talk all the time and he warned me after you left his place to look out for you. He said you had a run in earlier, and he had a feeling it might have happened again.” He looked at me. “Look, I’m not asking to marry you, I just think you have a nice bike, and I like to ride on my days off. Nothing more. Deal?”

I felt like a total bitch now, as I just nodded and put his card in my pocket with the rest of my ID and papers.

“Sorry Jake, it’s all just so new to me. I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re a good looking guy and you have a great family to vouch for you being kind to women, but you know how it can be right? I mean how would you react if you had a guy walk up while you were trying to do business, and ask you for what sounded like a date?”

“I see your point Toni, but my offer stands. Just call me and we can set something up, maybe I can drag dad away from campus long enough to join us.”

 “Only if you both promise to play nice. I need to get home Jake, good seeing you again. Oh before I forget, I have to ask you something personal.”

He looked at me funny as I started to giggle, and then nodded.

“Remember about 10 years ago when you came to campus for trick’s and treats?”

He nodded again.

“When you went for that second piece of candy out of my bowl did you piss yourself?”

You could see the light come on in his head as he realized who I was. “No, I didn’t but I came damn close to. I thought that name sounded familiar. And if I may say, I do like this packaging batter then the big burly jock who was in that dorm. Have a safe trip Toni.”

I waved and headed for home, thinking about nothing but how much I hate riding at night. Cars don’t see you enough during the day, it’s 10 times worse at night. I only have one light in the front, and people LOVE to pull out in front of me. Then there’s those asshole’s that love to follow too close. (And you wonder why I carry the hammer.)

I pulled into the garage back home at around 10 pm, and mom was there to meet me at the door. She hugged me tight and told me Captain Brown had called and told her what had happened. I told her it was no big deal and I knew how to handle myself.

“I’m just glad you left the hammer on the bike when you brought it here mom.”

“I was wondering what that was for. You want to tell me the real reason for it?”

“No, that’s it, just to get the attention of people who either don’t want to, or are to busy to pay attention to what’s going on around them. That’s all.”

I kissed her, and went in to take a shower. I let the water wash away all the aches that riding a rigid motorcycle can give you. I went into my room, and after putting on my shorts and a clean t-shirt, I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Next time: Toni gets the OK to go back to work.

 

  since 2/13/07