The Story of Motorcycles
“Yes. Need a ride home?”
Marcus slapped the long seat and laughed. “This old thing had better not throw me into a ditch.”
“It won’t,” Dominic said. “I’ll drive carefully.”
Marcus climbed on, still laughing. Throughout the trip, he complained about the motorcycle, joked about Dominic’s injured leg, and made several comments about how desperate our family must be.
I sat stiffly, saying nothing.
Dominic focused on the road, pretending not to hear.
When we reached Marcus’ house, he tossed over the fare and said, “Drive well, Dom. If you behave, my friends and I might give you more business.”