End of The Line

Ronald Dugan has broken the rules of his club and now he has to pay the price. Before he reaches the end of the line he has just one last thing he wants to do.

            Ronald Dugan sat on his bike smoking a cigarette as cars flew down the highway behind him. He flicked the smoke away and pulled out his phone. Pulling up his contacts he made a call he had been putting off. It rang three times before it was answered.

             “Yeah its me”

             “I’m not running, I had somethings to deal with.”

             “Tomorrow at Martha’s Diner.”

             “Yeah that one.”

 

             He stuffed the phone back into his pants pocket as he looked over at the Diner. It was a little run down place on the highway to nowhere. The kind of place people wouldn’t normally stop, but it did good business because of the big house sitting next to it. There was no sign out front advertising it, but this was a business that was the true money maker.

             Swinging his leg over he got off his bike grabbing his saddle bags. He walked up the steps slowly his legs stiff from long hours on his motorcycle. The front door opened into a large room filled with scantly clad girls and an assortment of salesmen and truckers. Martha’s was all this place was called and the large woman presiding over the whole was Martha herself.

             Martha looked up as this dirty wild hair biker approached her and smiled.

             “The boys are looking for you Ronald.”

             “I called them, we are meeting tomorrow at the diner.”

             “You should just run, you don’t deserve what they will do to you.”

             “Running will just delay it. Best to just get it over with.”

             “So you came for one last time?”

             “No. I’m not looking for a girl this time. I want a woman, a woman with some meat on her bones. A woman that will just hold me and let me just for a few hours forget about the world. I want to spend the night asleep in your bed Martha.”

             “Stop teasing Ronald.”

             “I’m not teasing, I'm tired and just want to feel a proper woman lying next to me as I sleep, not some Barbie doll want to be.”

             Martha looked him over for a second, noting the bags under his eyes. The long dirty hair and beard that was colored with road dust. The clothes that hadn’t been washed in weeks. He was almost at the end of his journey and she realized that of all the places and people he could have gone to it was her he came to see.

             She reached out and took his hand in her fat paw and turned to lead him towards the back of the house. He followed with the slow and steady tread of a man who knew he was soon to meet his end. The room Martha took him too was larger then the other bedrooms in the house and held nicer furniture.

             “Go wash up,” she told him nodding towards the bathroom door. “I’ll be right here when you are done.”

             He stopped at the bathroom doorway and looked down at the saddlebags and then over at Martha. He smiled and dropped them on a nearby chair before disappearing into the bathroom. Martha pulled open a dresser drawer and rooted around in the lingerie inside, it had been years since she wore anything sexy to bed. She had put on a few extra pounds and none of the lingerie would fit so she decided to just wear her bra and panties.

             Ronald came out of the bathroom naked holding a bundle of clothes out like they were toxic.

             “Drop them outside the door and one of the girls will clean them for you huney.”

             Ronald looked over at Martha and smiled. She was a big girl, soft and cuddly unlike the girls out in the other room all bony. He pulled his eyes off her and quickly deposited his filthy clothes in the hall.

             Martha was laying on the comforter when he approached. He slipped into bed with her and moved over so he was pressed against her. Putting an arm around her chest he closed his eyes. Sleep took him quickly sending him into a dream of a life he had given up so long ago. A life when he had been happy with a wife and child. He had wanted more and walked away from what he had to hunt for what he felt was missing. It had been a long hard road and his body bore the scars of it but now as the end approaches he realize that his life back then was perfect he was the flaw in the whole thing.

             He sat up in bed reaching for the gun that wasn’t there before he saw it was just one of the girls dropping off his clothes.

             “There is coffee on if you want some.”

             “Yeah. What time is it?”

             “Almost 5. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

             Ronald watched the girl walk out of the room, her tight little behind wiggling and felt no stirring of desire. He chuckled realizing that the last woman he would ever sleep with was no raving beauty or hot little number but an overweight over the hill madam and he was okay with that.

             He was almost dressed when the girl brought him the coffee and he took a quick sip. It was the worse cup of coffee he had ever had, but he smiled and reaching down he pulled a roll of bills from the saddle bags.

             “This is for you. I’m not your father and I’m the last person who should be handing out advice, but here goes. You need to get out of this life, if you don’t you will end up like me or Martha over there and you don’t want that nobody wants that.”

             The girl took the money and slowly backed out the door. Ronald watched her go seeing something in her eyes, maybe fear maybe something else. He turned away and put her out of his mind. He slid his pistol into the small of his back after checking the safety and then picked up the saddlebags. He looked over at Martha and smiled. The money in them could save him some pain and suffering that was headed his way, but no he deserved that. He sat them down again and walked out sipping the worse cup of coffee he ever drank.

             They were waiting for him, Little John, Joey, and about a dozen others, his brothers and the men that were going to kill him.

             “John.”

             “Ronald.”

             “Joey.”

             “You coming peaceful or do we have to drag you?”

             “You see Joey I just had the worse cup of w***e house coffee in my life so what I’m going to do is go into the diner here and get breakfast. Call it my last meal, I think after all I have done for you, for the club I deserve a last meal. Once I’m done eating you can take me where ever you want and do what you have to.”

             Little John stood up towering over both of the two big men. “I could do with a little breakfast myself. Besides it isn’t like Frank didn’t deserve it.”

             Joey flashed Little John a look when he mentioned his brother. “Frank may have deserved it but the club has rules, it should have been handled by the club as a whole not him going all lone wolf.”

             “It is over and done and I’ll pay for breaking the rules but breakfast first,” Ronald stated as he headed inside.

             The others followed taking up seats so they could keep an eye on Ronald and the door.

             “You all together?”

             Ronald nodded. “Order what you want guys, it isn’t like I can take it with me.” He turned to the tall red headed waitress. “I’ll take the Trucker’s special and coffee, lots of coffee.”

             Little John slid into the booth across from him and quickly ordered. “Word is you have a stash, a large one. Now we can’t just let you go, Joey would not allow it, but if you hand it over we could make it fast.”

             Ronald laughed. “John, buddy, I spent all that. How about I give you what I have left on me after I pay for our food. I mean you and the guys will just take it anyways.”

             “You are a real fool Ronald.”

             “I have been, but I think I am starting to wise up. I had a good life once but I thought I could do better, now I’m eating a meal with the guys that are going to take me off somewhere and stomp me to death. I really think I made a mistake and it wasn’t killing Frank, the b*****d deserved it.”

             John shook his head realizing that Ronald had accepted what was coming. When their food arrived everybody ate in silence. Ronald finally pushed his plate away and let out a large belch. “Well now that was as good a last meal as any. Lets go do this.”

             A state police car was just pulling into the lot when they walked outside. Ronald smiled and slowed his pace as he watched the cops climb out of the car. As they approached the door he reached back under his coat and pulled the pistol out.

             “Gun.”

             The other bikers backed away as the state troopers drew down on Ronald.

             “Drop the weapon and back away.”

             Ronald smiled as he looked at Little John. “Guess I’m going to get that fast death after all.”

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I've not read "Easy Rider" magazine since the late 70's, but this tale certainly captures the mood and mindset of the fiercely independent Harley guy who claimed to not fear death. A strange thing it was for this clean-cut Navy guy riding a Norton to fantasize about life with no rules, booze, drugs, and all the free sex I could handle, but I did. Well done, Alex.

[Alex S. Foley]

The image you are talking about is the one Hollywood has created where everyone that wears leather and rides motorcycles are total badasses, but in truth that is only about 1% of bikers. Most are good hard-working people with families. Even that 1% aren't as bad as they are portrayed in movies, they are generally nice people that just don't conform to the rules of society. Most aren't out having wild sex and drug-filled parties.

[Samuel Dickens]

You are correct. I rode a moped when I was ten. The next year, I built my first motorized contraption, using a kiddie's 3-wheel pedal tractor frame, wagon wheels, and 3/4 of a hp washing machine engine. In poor health, I quit riding last year after 63 years of engines and wheels between my legs.