Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: “This is (NOT) The End” or “I Heard You Been Layin’ My Old Lady”

I Heard You’ve Been Layin’ My Old Lady

Song By Rusty Wier, NATIVE TEXAN

Street Cred for Vid: HuckToohey

***

The three Harleys were gaining on me as I sped southbound down Interstate Five. It was still dark and the traffic was light. I floored the pedal on the Toranado but I knew they would eventually catch up to me.

My speedometer redlined at one hundred and I took another hurried glance at the rearview: still gaining fast. Where the hell were the famous CHiPs? For the absolute first time in my life, I wanted to get busted.

One biker managed to pull up alongside me on the passenger side. I swerved to the right just a bit to try to spook him. No dice! He easily dodged my quarter panel and I caught a brief glimpse of his grinning face, mocking me. (bikers never wore helmets) 

The two remaining bikes pulled up behind him. I was running out of options. Should I just continue on until I ran out of freeway or gas? Hope a highway patrol finally spotted us? Surrender?

I stole another glance in my side mirror and could just barely make out the third biker taking aim at my car with a handgun, rather unsteadily given our speed, but I braced for the worst, then BAM!

***

I awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. The alarm was wailing away. Shonnie stirred and moaned, “What time…? uuugghhhhh.”

I reached over Shonnie to kill the alarm and knocked it off the nightstand. “Shit!” Had to crawl over her to grab the damn thing and turn it off. “It’s five-thirty,” I said.

“Ohhh too early,” she moaned again, pulling the covers over her head.

“Go back to sleep.”

She sat up, stretching her arms upward and yawning. “No. I’ll make you some coffee,”

“Got no time for that. I gotta get back to my ship. Muster’s at zero-seven.”

“It’ll just take a minute,” she said as she extracted her naked body from the covers.

“Okay, but a minute is about all I have.”

I got out of bed and put on my jeans. Shonnie threw on her robe and disappeared downstairs. I went into the head and splashed some cold water on my face, trying to shock the dream out of my mind.

Just as I finished struggling to get into my too-tight boots, I heard the kettle whistling downstairs. Making sure I had my wallet and military ID, I descended to the kitchen to join Shonnie. She handed me a cup and I took a quick sip.

“Good coffee,” I said.

“You’re welcome Cowboy.”

“You sleep alright? I asked.

“Yeah, sorta, but you were snoring and moaning ‘till all hours.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Look, I gotta split. I wanna beat the traffic. My Master Chief don’t have a sense of humor about being late for muster.” I handed her the still mostly full cup of coffee.

She set it on the counter, threw her arms around my neck clinging tight, pulling me down and kissing me passionately. She withdrew her lips but kept my neck locked tight. “Oh Rhett! When will Ah evah see you again?”

I reached up and gently pulled her hands free and said, “Very funny Scarlett. I’ll call you this evening, but now I gotta go.”

“Okay, Darlin’, lemme walk you out.”

We walked over to the front door holding hands. I opened it. Shonnie let out a gasp. “Oh no,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Look there,” she said pointing down at the deck.

There was a white sack about a yard from the front door. It had the unmistakable mark of McDonald’s on it. I took a step outside, picked it up, turned to Shonnie and said, “What the fuc…”

“Come back inside. Hurry up,” she said in a ‘loud’ whisper.

I went back in and she shut the door, locking it with a loud click. “It’s Billy.”

“Billy?”

“My husband, you idiot.”

“Sorry. You never did tell me his name.”

“You never asked.”

Still clutching the sack in my hand, I opened it up and discovered two large coffees and two pastries.

“Give me that!” she said, almost shouting as she grabbed the sack out of my hand. “Look! This fuckin’ coffee’s still hot. He must’ve just been here.” She was visibly shaking.

“Quite the gentleman to deliver breakfast, doncha think?”

“Goddamn it Lance! This shit ain’t funny!”

“Well, what the hell do you expect from a smartass?”

“You can’t leave now,” she said as she walked over and slumped down into an overstuffed chair. She dropped the bag on the floor. The coffee almost tipped over onto the carpet.

“Seriously? Will he try to hurt you if I go?”

“No… not right away anyhow. It’s you… You! He’ll be after you! Dammit to Fuck!”

“Baby, I got no choice. I’d rather face ‘Billy’ than try to explain to Master Chief why I’m UA.”

She stared at me blankly for a moment as if I had just said something in Swahili. “Whaaat?”

“Uh ‘UA’. Unauthorized Absence. ‘Ay-Wall’. You know.”

“Fuck that! If you leave here now, you might be ‘A-WOLL’ permanent.”

“Well, I doubt it, but anyway I gotta go.” I turned and walked back toward the door. “I’ll call you this evening. Lock the door behind me.”

“Okay,” she sighed, getting up. As I was about to open the door she spun me around and hugged me, burying her face in my chest. “Be safe Lance.”

“You too Baby.”

I opened the door and walked out. Shonnie shut it behind me and I heard the click as she turned the deadbolt.

My car was parked almost a block away from the condo. It was still an hour before sunrise but the streetlights, though not bright, afforded enough light for me to make my way without any difficulty.

I slowly walked toward the Toranado. I was glancing left and right, trying to see into the shadows, hoping I would see no one. My shoulders were tight and I wondered if they would suddenly be pierced by a round from a hand gun.

I kept walking and looking. ‘Situational Awareness’. Almost there now. The Toranado was parked directly under a street light. Shit! I would have preferred a darker venue for getting into my car. Oh well. I fumbled around for my keys, unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel.

I twisted the key in the ignition and the engine turned over a few times more than normal, but finally caught hold. The cassette player was still cranked up and in the early morning quiet seemed extremely loud. I quickly reached over and shut down Rusty Wier in the middle of ‘The Devil Lives In Dallas.’

Proving once again that my life has a soundtrack…

Street Cred for Vid: Neil Wilkins

***

The car was facing the opposite direction I needed to go. I had to pull forward into an empty driveway, back up and get turned about. Back in the street and facing the right direction, I dropped the car into drive.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a Harley cranking up and the throttle revving.

***

This Is NOT The END

***

Previously:

Coming Soon:

“Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: Denouement”

Update: Part XV is up.

***

If you are new here, or a long-lost returning Pilgrim, you may want to begin your Shonnie Journey Below

And then simply “Follow the Yellow Brick Road” i.e., The Lancelot Links:

***

Comments below from the original version of this post.

Please read from the bottom up for continuity.

36 THOUGHTS ON “SHONNIE THE BIKER’S WIFE: THIS IS THE (NOT) THE END”

LAMarcom July 21, 2014 at 18:10 Edit

All’s well that ends well…

Cheers!

NancyTex July 21, 2014 at 08:49 Edit

Scary shit. Almost afraid to click on the final installment.

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 16:13 Edit

🙂

artourway July 16, 2014 at 16:12 Edit

so glad to have you as my friend Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 16:06 Edit

Toda rabah תודה רבה

That’s Hebrew for ‘Thank you!’

I did learn just enough to get me into trouble when I was working in that part of the world.

😉

artourway July 16, 2014 at 15:57 Edit

I admire your writing Lance.

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 15:23 Edit

Dreams?

I really need to work on my French.

🙂

Thank you my friend.

artourway July 16, 2014 at 14:39 Edit

Vous rêves sont parfois si réels, cool Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 13:06 Edit

Hehehe…

The ‘really end of the end’ should go up late this evening.

I do appreciate your taking time to read this story and comment.

Cheers!

-Lance

LVital7019 July 16, 2014 at 12:59 Edit

THAT was a shameless TEASE! “The End” but not really the end!?? Grrr… LOL

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 11:54 Edit

Whew! You’re welcome 🙂

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:36 Edit

Okay.

Denouement will be forthcoming.

This is why I love blogging: the feedback and great conversation.

Thanks so much Laura!

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:32 Edit

I must confess, I have never seen ‘Paris Texas.’ Although it has been on my ‘to watch’ list for some decades. After viewing the clip I have moved it way up that list and will watch it this weekend if not before. It definitely looks like a film I would love. So…thanks so much for provided the impetus to get me to it.

I took a peek at the USHypocrisy site and loved it. Now following. And I will show it to my English girlfriend. She will love it too, no doubt.

Win-Win all around!

Merci!

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:30 Edit

Exactly! It needs that good end. We are left to wodner although not too much since you’re still alive ‘n kicking! lol

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:20 Edit

Pretty sure you didn’t miss anything. It is most likely my failing. Perhaps I do need to provide the denouement?

😉

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:18 Edit

Well I for one would like to know what happened after the harley sound. 🙂

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:17 Edit

That’s the end? Did I miss something??

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:14 Edit

Breathe Laura, just breathe.

That is the end of the story….

(Please see comments below)

Of course if blowback comes, I will post an addendum or ‘post a postscript,’ if you will….)

Thanks so much for reading along on this one and also for your comments.

Cheers,

-Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:10 Edit

Hahaha!

Now that’s funny!

Perfect comment. Thanks for making me laugh out loud.

Cheers to you David!

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:08 Edit

Thanks so much Diana.

🙂

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:07 Edit

Actually Heathen, I had not planned to continue the story. This was to be The End, but rest assured, no harm came to Shonnie. If I get pushback to post a postscript, I will do that. However… I think it’s time for me to move on to other tales.

Your thoughts?

Thanks for riding along on this series. I do appreciate your time and as I have said before, your comments enrich my efforts.

Cheers Friend.

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 09:51 Edit

The suspense is killing me!

David Scott Moyer July 16, 2014 at 08:05 Edit

I wanted him to pull up along side you and say, “You forgot your hat, bro.”

Diana July 16, 2014 at 06:15 Edit

Great job Lance!

happierheathen July 16, 2014 at 05:35 Edit

I’m glad it came out in the comments that it was her decision that you’d never see her again, as otherwise I’d have to hire a guy to kick down your door and be only as nice as possible while extracting that bit of information. I hope the rest of the story doesn’t include her being harmed.

I’m just now thinking how lucky I am that the only woman I ever regretted losing eventually found her way back. Thanks for telling a story that catalyzed such a fine thought in this contraption I generously refer to as my brain, man.

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 03:50 Edit

P.S. Lance, if you ever have some spare minutes, please take a look @ this interesting and realistic blog: http://ushypocrisy.com/

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 03:26 Edit

I meant… amigo, Lance! 🙂 you must be proud and honored by your native American heritage/roots/origins…

@Paris, Texas and their fake and kitch Tour Eiffel: you have to see it, to believe it and I did! 😀 btw, have you watched this film-culte(here in “old Europe”!) with excellent actors:

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 00:40 Edit

‘Gringo?!?!

Laughing my ass off.

(I invite you to know that I am part Comanche)

Just the best part…

P.S. I grew up twenty miles from Paris (Texas). I hated that town then; and still do.

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 00:34 Edit

yesss! excellent job, Sir! last but not least: I love the Doors and I did see Jim Morrison’s tomb in “Père-Lachaise”, Paris, France(not Tejas!) – always with lots of flowers…

buenas noches, gringo! 🙂

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:31 Edit

Hahaha!

Sadie,

We both may be slightly inebriated…

It happens.

🙂

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:29 Edit

Tis okay. I got it.

Hahahaha

Cheers,

Lancer

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:28 Edit

To quote Joni at you Sadie:

“You are a woman of heart and mind.”

Thank you ever so much for all your wonderful comments.

Sincerely, they mean a lot to me.

Cheers, beers, and Tequila,

Lance

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 23:26 Edit

Crap – that is not where that comment was supposed to go 🙂 It was in response to yours – I am tired. Obviously need to go to bed LOL!!

Loading…

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 23:25 Edit

Thanks for sharing – you wrote about your bittersweet memories in such a beautiful way – great writing, storytelling, dialogue & suspense-building! I love reading your true tales. Shit, I’d be too scared to write about some of mine . . . 😉

Tears and beers (though mine is always tears & tequila!!) – proof you are alive sometimes!!

Have a great evening, Lance!!

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 22:40 Edit

Sadie,

My Good Friend,

I needed to end this. Yes there is more to the story, but it mostly involves tears and beers, and I do not think anyone would read that part.

I choose to end it here.

Obviously, I survived as did Shonnie and I never saw her again (her decision), but…hey! C’est La Vie, eh?

Thank you for reading this too long diatribe…er… history.

It is all truth, by the way.

Cheers,

Lance

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 22:35 Edit

For some reason, I don’t get the impression that this was the end . . .

My best friend growing up was a Harley girl and as teenagers we hung out occasionally with a couple of Bandidos (well she did, I just tagged along) – bikers aint exactly of the ilk to be too kind about other men & their women – especially their wives.

And YES they do have an unmistakable sound!!

Great piece Lance!! (And LOVE the Doors!! 😉 )

Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: This is the (NOT) The End

Parts One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen

The three Harleys were gaining on me as I sped southbound down Interstate 5. It was still dark and the traffic was light. I floored the pedal on the Toronado, but I knew they would eventually catch up to me. As my speedometer redlined at one hundred I took another furtive glance in the rearview: still gaining fast. Where the hell were the famous CHiPs? For the absolute first time in my life, I wanted to get busted. One biker managed to pull up alongside me on the passenger side. I swerved to the right just a bit to try to spook him. No dice! He easily dodged my quarter panel and I caught a brief glimpse of his grinning face, mocking me. (bikers never wore helmets)  The two remaining bikes pulled up behind him. I was running out of options. Should I just continue on until I ran out of freeway or gas? Hope a highway patrol finally spotted us? Surrender? I stole another glance in my side mirror and could just barely make out the third biker taking aim at my car with a handgun, rather unsteadily given our speed, but I braced for the worst, then BAM!

I awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. The alarm was wailing away. Shonnie stirred and moaned, “What time is it?”

Reaching over to kill the alarm, I knocked the clock off the nightstand. “Shit!” I reached over the side of the bed, grabbed it and managed to turn the damn thing off. “It’s five-thirty,” I said.

“Ohhh too early,” she moaned again, pulling the covers over her head.

“Go back to sleep,” I said.

“No. I’ll make you some coffee,” she said, sitting up, stretching her arms upward yawning

“Got no time for that. I gotta get back to my ship. Muster is at zero-seven.”

“It’ll just take a minute,” she said as she extracted her naked body from the covers.

“Okay, but a minute is about all I have.”

I got out of bed and put on my jeans. Shonnie threw on her robe and disappeared downstairs. I went into the head and splashed some cold water on my face, trying to shock the dream out of my mind. Just as I finished struggling to get into my too-tight boots, I heard the kettle whistling downstairs. Making sure I had my wallet and military ID, I descended to the kitchen to join Shonnie. She handed me a cup and I took a quick sip.

“Good coffee,” I said.

“You’re welcome Cowboy.”

“You sleep alright? I asked.

“Yeah, sorta, but you were snoring and moaning till all hours.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Look, I gotta split. I wanna beat the traffic. My Master Chief don’t have a sense of humor about being late for muster.” I handed her the still mostly full cup of coffee.

She set it on the counter, threw her arms around my neck clinging tight, pulling me down and kissing me passionately. She withdrew her lips but kept my neck locked tight. “Oh Rhett! When will Ah evah see you again?”

I reached up and gently pulled her hands free and said, “Very funny Scarlett. I’ll call you this evening, but now I gotta go.”

“Okay, Darlin’, lemme walk you out.”

We walked over to the front door holding hands. I opened it. Shonnie let out a gasp. “Oh no,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Look there,” she said pointing down at the deck.

There was a white sack about a yard from the front door. It had the unmistakable mark of McDonald’s on it. I took a step outside, picked it up, turned to Shonnie and said, “What the fuc…”

“Come back inside quickly,” she almost whispered.

I went back in and she shut the door, locking it with a loud click. “It’s Billy.”

“Billy?”

“My husband, you idiot.”

“Sorry. You never did tell me his name.”

“You never asked.”

Still clutching the sack in my hand, I opened it up and discovered two large coffees and two pastries.

“Give me that!” she said, almost shouting as she grabbed the sack out of my hand. “Look, this coffee is still hot. He must have just been here.” She was visibly shaking.

“Quite the gentleman to deliver breakfast, doncha think?”

“Goddamn Lance! This shit ain’t funny!”

“Well, what the hell do you expect from a smartass?”

“You can’t leave now,” she said as she walked over and slumped down into an overstuffed chair, dropping the bag on the floor almost tipping over the coffees inside.

“Seriously? Will he try to hurt you if I go?”

“No… not right away anyhow. It’s you… You! He’ll be after you! Dammit to Fuck!”

“Baby, I got no choice. I’d rather face ‘Billy’ than try to explain to Master Chief why I’m UA.”

She stared at me blankly for an instant as if I had just said something in a language she did not understand. “Whaaat?”

“Uh UA; unauthorized absence. AWOL. You know.”

“Fuck that! If you leave here now, you might be ‘AWOL’ permanent.”

“Well, I doubt that, but anyway I gotta go.” I turned and walked back toward the door. “I’ll call you this evening. Lock the door behind me.”

“Okay,” she sighed, getting up. As I was about to open the door she spun me around and hugged me, burying her face in my chest. “Be safe Lance.”

“You too Baby.”

I opened the door and walked out. Shonnie shut it behind me and I heard the click as she turned the deadbolt.

My car was parked almost a block away from the house. It was still an hour before sunrise but the streetlights, though not bright, afforded enough light for me to make my way without any difficulty. As I slowly walked toward the Toronado, I was glancing left and right, trying to see into the shadows, hoping I would see no one. My shoulders were tight as I wondered if they would suddenly be pierced by a round from a hand gun. I keep walking. Almost there now. The Toronado was parked directly under a street light. Shit! I would have preferred a darker venue for getting into my car. Oh well. I fumbled around for my keys, unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, the engine turned over a few times more than normal, but finally caught hold. The cassette player was still cranked up and in the early morning quiet seemed extremely loud. I quickly reached over and shut down Jim Morrison in the middle of his song.

The car was facing the opposite direction I needed to be going, so I had to pull forward into an empty driveway, back up and get turned about. Back in the street and facing the right direction, I dropped the car into drive.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a Harley cranking up and someone revving the throttle.

Not The End.

More:  HERE