For Busterella: The Motorcycle Incident
“I don’t think thissss isss ssssuch a good idea, boss,” Snake hissed nervously, exchanging a sneaky stink-eye contest with the girl on the bike. “It’sssss a new bike.”
“I’m not gonna hurt it,” Belladonna replied loudly. “Don’t get yer panties in a twist.”
Snake, struck by a vivid flashback of the very non-masculine underwear items he had to wash in the laundry that month, colored but said nothing else, waiting for Ace to talk her off the motorcycle before she scratched it or something.
“Cool it,” Ace said languidly, and it took a moment before Snake realized Ace was talking to him. Weird. “She’s got this.”
Grumbling under his breath, he retreated to sit by Grubber and Arturo a safe distance away.
“Know where everything is, kid?” Ace continued, talking to Belladonna now. She nodded enthusiastically, though he noticed with a pang of…something…that her petite fingers were stretched as far as they’d go over the handles. He shook it off. She’s a big girl. She could handle herself.
She revved the engine, and Ace had the split-second foresight to tell her to take it easy before she shot off like a bullet, green-tipped hair flying and green shirt flapping behind her. It reminded him of something, just off the edge of his memory, but then she crashed into a tree and the bike skided away and oh, crud, she ain’t movin’.
The Gangreen Gang prided itself on its leisurely swagger, but under the current circumstances it was understood that “leisurely swagger” wasn’t quite called for; Billy surprised everyone by being the first one on the scene, turning Belladonna over as she groaned and sat up on her own.
“Man, what happened?” she mumbled as Ace bodily tossed Snake out of the way and threw himself on his knees beside her. Looking after four other boys in their teens doing stupid stuff had trained him well in seeing broken bones a mile away; as far as he could tell, she looked fine. A quick glance told him the bike was trashed, but at the moment he was more preoccupied by the woozily swaying girl in the grass.
She was muttering something, but he couldn’t quite hear it over everyone else’s chatter; Arturo and Grubber in particular were being annoying, one giving a play-by-play of her crash in rapid Spanglish, the other raspberrying so loud his mouth kept going dry. He fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette box.
“Shaddup, will ya?” he yelled, and obediently his Gang quieted. “Give her some room to breathe. Geez.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled in the silence that followed. “Sorry ‘bout the bike. Sorry.”
Cigarette box found, he stuck one in his mouth and lit it with shaky hands. The nicotine calmed him a little bit, enough to get his usual slick smile back on his face.
“Eh, it was a piece of junk, anyways,” he shrugged. Snake made a little noise of dissent and Ace punched him. She smiled at the familiar act of violence, then winced. Something dark and red was trickling down her temple, and Ace’s insides seized up.
“Hey, you okay, kid?” he asked, resisting the urge to smooth her hair out of the way to check the source (he wasn’t her mom, after all). “Your head’s kinda bleeding there.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, touching her head and wincing again. “Ow.”
“Come ‘ere,” he instructed, with one hand half-hooking the shirt off of Snake’s back. Grubber helped him from the other side to get the shirt off of Snake’s wildly struggling body, then balled it up and held it to her temple. For a second a blissful, dreamy smile erupted over Belladonna’s face, then she blinked and her eyes focused and it was gone.
“Man, I totally wiped out there, didn’t I?” she asked, a pout tugging at her mouth.
“Sí,” Arturo nodded. “It was the coolest thing I have ever seen.”
“Billy thought it look like you was flying,” Big Billy added.
Grubber added a few enthusiastic comments. Snake spat.
“I’m…uh…feeling a little light-headed here,” Belladonna said casually as Ace adjusted the makeshift bandage. “You know…blood loss and everything.”
“Snake, go get tacos,” Ace ordered immediately.
“But-”
“Did I stutter? Go get tacos!”
Snake mouthed furiously for a second, then threw his hands up and trudged back to the tour bus to pull on another shirt and grab a fistful of cash from the sock drawer.
Tacos were obtained, then eaten, Ace’s one-handed as he continued to hold the grubby shirt to Belladonna’s cut, checking it every so often to see if it was still bleeding. Her eyes started drifting shut as the raucous conversation lagged and Grubber got out his harmonica. Ace switched hands and put his arm around Belladonna’s shoulder, tentatively shaking her a little.
“Hey. Wake up. You’re not supposed to sleep on a head injury,” he said hesitantly, suddenly extremely aware that Belladonna was a girl-person and a small girl-person and a small girl-person who smelled…well, not like flowers or anything girly like that, but definitely better than toxic sludge. She rolled her head back a little to look at him.
“You gonna keep me up, boss?” she smirked. He snorted.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, kid, but I’d consider it a big inconvenience if our lead singer died ‘cuz she biffed it on a motorcycle,” he said frankly. “Just business, see?”
“Oh, just business,” Belladonna nodded thoughtfully, then grimaced. “Ow.”
“Keep yer head still. Don’t wanna make it worse,” he chided. The faraway lights of Townsville lit up a small corner of the sky, but the rest of it was stars and sparks from the campfire Arturo and Billy had made earlier. One by one the Gang split off to sleep or putter around somewhere else, until it was just Ace, Belladonna, and the bloodstained t-shirt left. Ace still had his arm thrown over her shoulders. Hesitantly Belladonna shifted until her head was leaning on Ace’s shoulder with the t-shirt between them, and equally cautiously Ace leaned back a little to accommodate her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“No problem.”
“I’m not gonna hurt it,” Belladonna replied loudly. “Don’t get yer panties in a twist.”
Snake, struck by a vivid flashback of the very non-masculine underwear items he had to wash in the laundry that month, colored but said nothing else, waiting for Ace to talk her off the motorcycle before she scratched it or something.
“Cool it,” Ace said languidly, and it took a moment before Snake realized Ace was talking to him. Weird. “She’s got this.”
Grumbling under his breath, he retreated to sit by Grubber and Arturo a safe distance away.
“Know where everything is, kid?” Ace continued, talking to Belladonna now. She nodded enthusiastically, though he noticed with a pang of…something…that her petite fingers were stretched as far as they’d go over the handles. He shook it off. She’s a big girl. She could handle herself.
She revved the engine, and Ace had the split-second foresight to tell her to take it easy before she shot off like a bullet, green-tipped hair flying and green shirt flapping behind her. It reminded him of something, just off the edge of his memory, but then she crashed into a tree and the bike skided away and oh, crud, she ain’t movin’.
The Gangreen Gang prided itself on its leisurely swagger, but under the current circumstances it was understood that “leisurely swagger” wasn’t quite called for; Billy surprised everyone by being the first one on the scene, turning Belladonna over as she groaned and sat up on her own.
“Man, what happened?” she mumbled as Ace bodily tossed Snake out of the way and threw himself on his knees beside her. Looking after four other boys in their teens doing stupid stuff had trained him well in seeing broken bones a mile away; as far as he could tell, she looked fine. A quick glance told him the bike was trashed, but at the moment he was more preoccupied by the woozily swaying girl in the grass.
She was muttering something, but he couldn’t quite hear it over everyone else’s chatter; Arturo and Grubber in particular were being annoying, one giving a play-by-play of her crash in rapid Spanglish, the other raspberrying so loud his mouth kept going dry. He fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette box.
“Shaddup, will ya?” he yelled, and obediently his Gang quieted. “Give her some room to breathe. Geez.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled in the silence that followed. “Sorry ‘bout the bike. Sorry.”
Cigarette box found, he stuck one in his mouth and lit it with shaky hands. The nicotine calmed him a little bit, enough to get his usual slick smile back on his face.
“Eh, it was a piece of junk, anyways,” he shrugged. Snake made a little noise of dissent and Ace punched him. She smiled at the familiar act of violence, then winced. Something dark and red was trickling down her temple, and Ace’s insides seized up.
“Hey, you okay, kid?” he asked, resisting the urge to smooth her hair out of the way to check the source (he wasn’t her mom, after all). “Your head’s kinda bleeding there.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, touching her head and wincing again. “Ow.”
“Come ‘ere,” he instructed, with one hand half-hooking the shirt off of Snake’s back. Grubber helped him from the other side to get the shirt off of Snake’s wildly struggling body, then balled it up and held it to her temple. For a second a blissful, dreamy smile erupted over Belladonna’s face, then she blinked and her eyes focused and it was gone.
“Man, I totally wiped out there, didn’t I?” she asked, a pout tugging at her mouth.
“Sí,” Arturo nodded. “It was the coolest thing I have ever seen.”
“Billy thought it look like you was flying,” Big Billy added.
Grubber added a few enthusiastic comments. Snake spat.
“I’m…uh…feeling a little light-headed here,” Belladonna said casually as Ace adjusted the makeshift bandage. “You know…blood loss and everything.”
“Snake, go get tacos,” Ace ordered immediately.
“But-”
“Did I stutter? Go get tacos!”
Snake mouthed furiously for a second, then threw his hands up and trudged back to the tour bus to pull on another shirt and grab a fistful of cash from the sock drawer.
Tacos were obtained, then eaten, Ace’s one-handed as he continued to hold the grubby shirt to Belladonna’s cut, checking it every so often to see if it was still bleeding. Her eyes started drifting shut as the raucous conversation lagged and Grubber got out his harmonica. Ace switched hands and put his arm around Belladonna’s shoulder, tentatively shaking her a little.
“Hey. Wake up. You’re not supposed to sleep on a head injury,” he said hesitantly, suddenly extremely aware that Belladonna was a girl-person and a small girl-person and a small girl-person who smelled…well, not like flowers or anything girly like that, but definitely better than toxic sludge. She rolled her head back a little to look at him.
“You gonna keep me up, boss?” she smirked. He snorted.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, kid, but I’d consider it a big inconvenience if our lead singer died ‘cuz she biffed it on a motorcycle,” he said frankly. “Just business, see?”
“Oh, just business,” Belladonna nodded thoughtfully, then grimaced. “Ow.”
“Keep yer head still. Don’t wanna make it worse,” he chided. The faraway lights of Townsville lit up a small corner of the sky, but the rest of it was stars and sparks from the campfire Arturo and Billy had made earlier. One by one the Gang split off to sleep or putter around somewhere else, until it was just Ace, Belladonna, and the bloodstained t-shirt left. Ace still had his arm thrown over her shoulders. Hesitantly Belladonna shifted until her head was leaning on Ace’s shoulder with the t-shirt between them, and equally cautiously Ace leaned back a little to accommodate her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“No problem.”