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My parents didn't know that Harley was going to buy a motorcycle. Only Aunt Glenda had any indication, apparently, and she hadn't said anything to anyone about it, not even to Uncle Roy. We all heard him drive in with it. Daddy had just gotten home from work. I was the first person Harley wanted to see his motorcycle. He came right to the door to call me out. Of course, he wanted to take me for a ride

immediately, and I did almost get on behind him. but Mommy had come to the

front door and screamed. "NO!"

We both looked back at her and saw such abject terror on her face, neither of us could speak or move for a moment.

"It's too dangerous." she said in a calmer tone of voice. Daddy came up beside her and then down to me and Harley.

"Any passenger you take on this," he told Harley, "has to wear a helmet."

"Oh," Harley said: the next day he bought an

extra helmet to carry for passengers. He thought that

Daddy might permit me to ride with him now, but that

night Daddy and Mommy had made me make a

promise.

I felt terrible telling Harley. The light of

excitement, all the pride drained from his eyes. "It's just because it's me." he muttered.

"Everyone here thinks I'm going to destroy the

world."

He shot off, nearly spilling himself at the foot

of the driveway before I could offer any other

explanation. It did no good to shout after him. There

was too much noise. I heard him revving his engine

and speeding down the back road: my heart pounded,

fearing he would have a bad accident and everyone's

predictions for him would be satisfied. Probably

because he believed everyone was looking to get him

or blame him for something all the time, he was really

a very careful driver, keeping within the speed limits.

There was never a complaint about him and soon, the

sight of him on his motorcycle became nothing unusual. I. of course, was still prohibited from riding

along with him.

Anyway, the next school day after my birthday

party, Harley wasn't right behind us. I kept looking