Death on Wheels
The rumbling started just as Chronos propped his feet up on the coffee table to settle in for a bit of TV. Startled, he glanced around the room but couldn’t find the source of the noise.
As it grew louder, he could feel the vibration through the soles of his feet when he stood up. The hourglass on the credenza shook, scattering time in waves that would affect the mortal population on Earth.
Something was coming – something big.
Just as the noise reached an unbearable level, the double doors to his house flew open of their own volition. Chronos stared at the open expanse, wondering what creature was about to pay a visit.
He covered his ears in a desperate attempt to stop the rattling going on inside his brain as an image of flames and chrome filled his vision.
It was Death on a Harley.
“Greetings, my friend. Do you like my new bike?”
Chronos took in the leather-clad spectre, complete with black visor on the helmet.
“Turn that thing off, will you? My teeth are vibrating and I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”
“Sorry, dude.” Death turned the key after one last gun to the engine. “I said, how do you like my new bike?”
Chronos cautiously removed his hands, his ears still ringing from the commotion. He smiled at the flames painted on the gas tank. The chopper suited Death.
“It’s nice, but did you have to drive it into my living room? It might drip oil on the carpet.”
Death looked down at the green shag that hadn’t been changed since the ’70s, but decided not to say anything.
“Hop on. I have a collection to make but I thought I’d swing by and pick you up. It’ll be fun. We’ll take the scenic route there.”
He tossed a helmet at Chronos. The scythe emblem on the side of it matched the one Death wore. Chronos laughed as he caught it.
“You never cease to amuse me.” He slipped the helmet on and straddled the back of the bike.
They wound their way towards the appointed place, Chronos enjoying the wind whipping at his robes. Leaning side to side as they banked into turns at high speed, he settled into the rhythm and took in the scenery.
Too soon, Death turned the bike toward their objective – the island of Madagascar. He let the wheels touch into the surf, spraying water that soaked Chronos.
“Did you enjoy the ride?” Death asked after he made his collection.
“I did, although I can see the advantages of wearing leather.” He wrung more seawater out of his clothes.
“Good. You haven’t really experienced the complete thrill of the ride yet, my friend. Perhaps you’ll allow me to start the engine for the trip back?” Death dropped his jaw in a laugh.
“All right. But if I’m deaf by the time we get home you’ll owe me.”
“No worries.” Death turned the key and the engine roared to life.
How lovely. Death and Chronos as biker buddies. The “flames painted on the gas tank” and the “scythe emblem” are nice touches. Nor can we overlook that Death, despite all the fun he and Chronos enjoyed along the “scenic route,” “leaning side to side as they banked into turns at high speed,” “made his collection.” I’ve discovered your secret, Laura. Your story is in your throwaway remarks. Clever. “Death turned the key and the engine roared to life.” Note the first and last words in that final — excuse the expression — line. They somehow got reversed, didn’t they?
You caught me, Ron. I look upon the throwaway lines as little easter eggs. Small nuggets to enrich the story for those willing to absorb the experience.
My sympathies are with Chronos. In my younger days I spent a lot of time on the back a bike (and some in control as well). The bigger bikes can indeed threaten the sanctity of your fillings with their noise and vibration. Travelling without the engine, leaning into corners would be bliss. Just the same, being owed a favour by Death, is not something to be sneezed at.
Another wonderful Friday post. Thank you.
I spent many younger days on a bike as well, EC. The bliss of riding without the terror of crashing or noise would be ideal. I’m so glad you’re enjoying these.
Chronos needs his own bike now, but they just might rattle the earth apart with the noise.
I don’t think Chronos will ever get his own bike, Alex. That’s a good thing for the noise factor!
Hi Laura .. what a great team .. and yes that rattle and roll is enough to send us all to the lunatic asylum – there’s a chap here with a big bike … and he kills someone every time he starts it up … gunshot roars out … I wouldn’t mind being around when Death and Chronos rode in – as long as I wasn’t the one they were to collect … Mind you a few days in Madagascar would be good!!
Cheers from a snowy England .. Hilary
Snow…brrrr. Stay warm, Hilary!
My hearing has gotten sharper through the years, instead of the other way around. Loud bikes rattle my teeth!
I think Death and his chopper live in my neighborhood.
I hope he doesn’t try to park his bike in your living room, Diane.
I love your details and side comments. They are always the ones that make me laugh.
I am honored by your laughter, Julie!
The bike and helmets certainly fit death. Hopefully Chronos remembers to get some leather gear for the next time Death decides to take him for a ride.
Yeah, Chronos’ robes don’t exactly make for suitable riding clothes, Eric.
“Death on a Harley.”
I love that line!
Happy Weekend
It seemed appropriate, Carol.
Happy weekend to you as well!
LOVE the whole thing! ~HaPPy*FridAY!!
Thanks, Jamie, and Happy Friday to you!
I think Death’s bike just went by… What’d you say? That Death sure is an interesting friend to have. And I never would have pictured Chronos with green shag.
Death would be a great friend, Mary! He’s fun. And Chronos with his green shag…well, he gets caught in time loops and has a hard time keeping up with fashion trends.
No wonder I feel as if Chronos and I were one. Caught in time loops. Having a hard time keeping up with trends. Are you certain, Laura, he wouldn’t give me the time of the day? I keep hoping he would. Death, if he wished, could watch.
Ron – Perhaps if you turned an hourglass on its side, you would get Chronos’ attention. Let me know if it works.
I really like how you write your stories.
Thank you, Gina! I’m glad you enjoy them.
Death on a Harley? I pictured Ghost Rider almost immediately. That’s a cool image. I think Death should have flames erupting from his skull.
If Death had flames erupting from his skull, Michael, his peanuts would get burned.
Love this!! Such a fun scene.
Thanks, Cherie! Death and Chronos have a lot of fun together.
Death on a Harley. That’s not an image you can shake.
This one ranks, I believe, as my most favorite of the outings of these two guys.
I think Ron has the right of it — it’s the…seeming…throwaways that make these stories.
Art, as I mentioned once before, Laura.
The visual does stick in your mind, doesn’t it, Kevin?
Thank you for calling my bizarre little stories “art.”
My pleasure, Laura. It’s an apt application of the term.
I agree.
Ron and Kevin – Thank you both! That puts a big smile on my face.
Love it! There have been times when I was sure I’ve seen Death on a Harley on the highway by our house.
Yeah, he gets around, Christine!
I love these two and sincerely hope that you put them all together in a book. I could totally see Death a big ol Harley V-Rod or maybe a Fat Boy. Can you tell I love Harleys? LOL
I got that impression, Melissa!
I’d like to put them together in a book someday. Just need to write more of them first.