SCOOTER TRASH
A LOVE STORY
The Bike that Inspired the Story
The picture at the right is of a radically customized 1955 Harley Davidson that I once owned. The layout and the general look of the bike was the inspiration for Doc's scooter as described in the book - only the colors have been changed. It was a fine machine and if I had not been a fool I might still have it or it might still have me.
Oh, note the Chevy van in the background - except for color you might recognize it from the story, as well. A stylized version of this picture appears on the cover of "Scooter Trash - A love Story" Book 1 "Thursday's Children".
Kerry
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"Scooter Trash-a Love Story"
Trilogy
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Scooter Trash – A Love Story is set in the biker world of sex, drugs and rock n roll in the 1970s.
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Book 1—"Thursday’s Children" is a romance set in that time and place. It is the story of Doc and Kay falling in love and all the complications that it held for them both. It also chronicles the launch of a new motorcycle club as it faces challenges from the town of Sanctuary and from the outlaw club that ruled the region—the Devil’s Jokers.
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Book 2—In "Reckonings", the continuing story of Doc and Kay, their love is tested as never before. Thursday’s Children MC grows in numbers and has new adventures and challenges as the club travels along that fine line between brotherhood and the limits imposed by society. And a group of the bikers and their friends try to right a grievous wrong done to an innocent young woman.
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Book 3—"Perseverance" is the continuing story of Doc and Kay as they deal with life-changing events that question whether true love can last forever or just of the moment. The Thursday’s Children Motorcycle Club struggles with freedom and control—how much of either is too much?
Teaser from "The Eagle's Web"
(Selected for those into the biker lifestyle)
Web took one of the four chairs at the table and the other two sat. “Can someone tell me what happened tonight? I only had a call asking that I come down to visit Mr. Ryder.”
The detective spoke, “Mr. Ryder here used a shotgun to take the head off a fellow out at Albino Bob’s motorcycle shop and bar. We were just about to discuss the matter with him. We are happy for you to sit in.” The biker remained passive as he looked Web in the eye and nodded slightly.
Scoggins said, “OK, Red, you want to tell us what the hell happened out there?”
“I’d be more comfortable if you would take these cuffs off. I am no danger to you or anybody else.” Scoggins nodded and the detective unlocked the shackles, and the big man rubbed his wrists. “Thanks.”
Web spoke to the biker, “Mr. Ryder, I am Web Byrd. I am a local attorney and I had a call from Bob who asked me to represent you in this matter—that is, if you need representation. You can go ahead and tell these gentlemen about what happened but I may ask you to stop if I think there is reason to do so.”
Red stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders and said, “I’ve explained everything to the policemen who brought me in. Anyway, I was working on some stuff at Bob’s shop and there were a bunch of guys in the shop and bar and standing around outside.
“I heard hollering out front of the place and went to take a look at what was going on. I think he was screaming about somebody name of RJ. Hell, I couldn’t really tell. Then I heard a gunshot. There was this scrawny guy holding a rifle on one of our guys—Doc—by the time I could see what was going on.
“We keep a shotgun at the shop in case of any serious trouble, so I grabbed it and walked out the side door of the shop and the guy didn’t see me, I guess. Anyway, things got pretty nuts at that point. I told him to drop his gun and he swung around and shot again. I think he hit the front window of the shop. Anyway, I pulled the trigger and took him down, but I may have hit Doc too. Don’t really know. Hope he is OK. It all happened pretty quick. I don’t know if he was shooting at me or just shooting. It kind of went over my left shoulder, I think, but he could have hit any of the guys hanging out in front of the shop. The cops got there pretty quick. After we talked a little, they brought me here. That’s about it.”
Scoggins and the detective looked at each other and he said, “Mr. Byrd, do you want to step out in the hall for a minute? Red, you stay here with the Detective Douglass.”
Web and Scoggins walked out and closed the door. Scoggins leaned against the wall, lit a cigarette and blew smoke in Web’s general direction, “You know I think you take on some real scumbags for clients, but I don’t think this old boy is one of them. Yeah, he’s a fucking biker, but we found out a little bit about him. He was an MP and a good one, I guess. He also worked as a motorcycle mechanic for the State Police up until a couple of months back. We gave them a call and they had nothing but good things to say about him. This thing seems to me to be a straightforward case of self-defense. We still need to find out some more stuff, like who the other guy was and what was going on with him. And we need to talk to some other folks who were at the bar. The interviews so far support the story that he just told us. The DA will have to determine if charges will be filed, of course.”
“That sounds right to me. Are you going to hold him here?”
“Hell, he ain’t leaving town. I gotta call the prosecutor—you know, Henry—but I think we will probably release him with orders that he don’t go nowhere.”
And that’s exactly what happened. Web waited around for Red’s release—it only took about a half-hour. Web offered to give the man a ride back home, but he asked to be taken back to the motorcycle shop. By then it was almost two in the morning, but Red was sure his girlfriend would still be there with the bikers. Red was exiting the aging Mercedes when Web said, “I think you are going to be OK but try to keep your nose clean until all the dust settles. I know any man will have some emotional issues after something like this.”
Red stared back at Web with a quizzical look on his bearded face, “Lawyer, you don’t know me. I got no emotions. You don’t need to worry about me. You gotta give a shit to have feelings and mine went away a long time ago. Thanks anyway.” The look in Red’s eyes and his words sent a chill down Web’s spine.
No charges were brought. The man who died was in the trucking business with one of the bikers who was not at the bar or shop on the fateful night. He had just returned from a long road trip and was badly strung out on amphetamines and paranoid at the time of the incident. He had been a good man but the drugs, days without sleep and circumstances had cost him his life.
The biker called Doc was only hit with pieces of the dead man’s skull, blood and brains. He suffered a cut above one eye which would give him an interesting scar but no real damage except to his psyche but even that would be temporary. Web figured Doc had some of the same attitude he had seen in Red. Maybe all bikers did.