Monkey Business -2- Second Heat by Melanie Brown (Patreon)

Monkey Business Part 2

By

Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2023

The front door closed a bit more loudly than I had anticipated. From the kitchen, Mom called out, “Randy? Where have you been?”

I walked into the kitchen and said, “I was at the track, Mom. Remember? I told y’all about watching Nick race. Where’s Dad?”

Mom shook her head. “On the back patio watching that stupid TV.” Dad had put a roof over the patio and then installed a big screen TV so he could watch football outside to get the football weather effect. Dad’s a real football nut, and he’s pissed I didn’t get any of those genes.

Mom looked down at the pot she was stirring. “You were almost late for dinner.” She looked over at me for a second before narrowing her eyes at me. She reached over and tugged on the pink scarf I was stupidly still wearing. “What’s this?”

“Ah. Just something I found on the ground.” I lied.

Mom shook her head at me and grunted. “I doubt that. That’s silk. It’s not going to be just rolling around at the track. Did Nick give it to you?” I’ve always wondered if Mom had ESP or something.

No point lying again. I said, “Yes, actually.” In a way, he did.

Mom checked the oven. “Doesn’t really surprise me. You spend too much time with that thug. Actually, I thought you were sweet on that boy…what’s his name? Colin? At least he seems nice.”

I frowned at Mom. “I’m not sweet on him, Mom. We’re just best friends.”

Mom chuckled. “Whatever. Just go wash your hands and let your father know dinner’s ready.” I nodded and started to walk away when she grabbed my arm. She squinted at me. Were you wearing goggles all afternoon? It left a mark.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, so?” No point in lying about that.

Mom asked, “You weren’t racing, were you?”

I frowned at Mom. “I don’t have a bike, remember?”

Mom pointed a finger at me. “Don’t take that tone with me, young man! Are you sure you didn’t race today?”

I gestured extending my arms. “I don’t have a bike! Nobody’s gonna loan me one!”

Mom shook her head at me again. “Go wash up.”

As I turned to walk down the hall, I asked, “What’s for dinner, anyway?”

Mom said flatly, “Chicken fried steak.”

I grinned. “My favorite!”

*  *  *

“Were you at the track?” asked my best friend Colin.

I nodded uselessly at my cell phone. “Yeah.”

“That’s what I thought since I didn’t see you at the arcade,” said Colin. The arcade at the strip mall was my favorite hangout besides the track. I just wish half the games weren’t broken.

“You weren’t there? I thought you told me you had GTX in your veins.”

“Well, I wasn’t racing Sunday. I’m trying to save some money. But I wish I could have been there,” exclaimed Colin. “Mitch said that Nick has one bodacious bitch as his monkey. Said she was hot and dressed in pink leathers. I would have liked to have seen her. Do you know if Nick is racing next weekend?”

“He is. Next Saturday,” I said, not sure what to think about being referred to as a bodacious bitch. “But it won’t be here. The races will be in Alpine at the 16th Street track.”

Colin said incredulously, “That track is still used?”

I said, “Well, yeah. Nick races TT steeplechase there.”

Colin let out a low whistle. “The ground is really hard there. Loose sand and gravel. Anyway. Do you know if that chick will be there?”

I sighed. “I think he’s looking for a new monkey. She was just temporary.”

“Ah, man,” complained Colin. “Let me know if he’s still going to use her next week.”

I laughed. “Are you in love or something?”

Sounding serious, Colin said, “Maybe. Mitch sent a picture from when she was kissing all the winners. It’s a bit fuzzy, but she still looks awesome. I wish I’d won. My parents made me leave before they handed out the trophies.”

I said, “I didn’t think she was all that exciting, myself.” Why the hell am I referring to myself as a girl? I should just end this fiasco right now. “Colin. Look, you need to understand something. I…”

“Hey, bro,” interrupted Colin. “I need to go. Catchcha later, huh?”  He disconnected.

*  *  *

“Hey, man. Thanks for coming over,” said Nick sitting on his garage floor next to his bike. “I just need an extra pair of hands for five minutes, and then you can go to your movie.”

Colin had called me earlier to ask if I’d go to a movie with him. He wanted to see the new Nathan Adams movie <i>That’s my brain!</i>. It’s some science fiction/horror/comedy flick. Since Colin broke up with his girlfriend, we’ve been hanging out together more. It irritated me when Mom told me my date was here to pick me up.

Colin said, “No problem, Nick. What’s going on?”

Nick frowned. “I’m trying to slide the cylinders down, but I don’t have enough hands to feed the cam chain through it.”

Colin crouched down next to Nick’s bike. “No problem.”

I stood there, feeling helpless. “Anything I can do?”

Nick grunted as he lifted the cylinder over the top of the mounts. “I think Colin’s got it.”

As he held tightly to the cam chain, Colin said, “I got a question for you, Nick.”

Nick grunted again as he picked up the head. “Ask away.”

Colin re-adjusted his position, trying to avoid putting his knee down on the oily floor. “What can you tell me about this chick in the pink leathers?”

Nick glanced over at me and winked. “What do you need to know? She’s jailbait, you know.” Nick struggled with the head for a moment. “Don’t let go of that.”

Colin laughed. “Technically, so am I. I just want to get to know her. Is that so bad?”

Nick pushed the master link in place on the cam chain. “You can let go now.” He sat up and wiped his hand with a nearby red shop rag. It wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t already know her.”

“Come on, Nick. Throw me a bone here,” pleaded Colin.

Nick frowned at Colin after he got off the floor. “You have any idea how many guys ask me about this chick? I’m not running her fucking dating service. She does a job for me, and that’s all I care about.”

Colin said, “Sheesh. I’m just asking. Are you dating her yourself?”

Nick glanced over at me and laughed. “Naw. She’s a bit too skinny for my taste. But hey, man. Thanks for your help.”

Colin grinned. “No problem. Are you going to be at Alpine next Saturday?”

Nick grinned back. “You bet. Catch you guys later.”

*  *  *

On our way to the theater, Colin asked, out-of-the-blue, “You’ve met her, right?”

Giving Colin a confused look, I asked, “Met who?”

Colin shook his hands in the air instead of driving and exclaimed, “The pink monkey girl! Who else would I mean? You hang around Nick a lot, so you’ve had to have met her!”

I frowned at Colin. “She doesn’t live with Nick, and she’s not dating him. I’ve only seen her at the track.”

“I intend to meet her,” said a determined Colin.

“You’re just setting yourself up for disappointment,” I said, trying to discourage him.

Colin wrinkled up his nose at me. “Is she ugly or something?”

I shrugged. “There’s a reason Nick hired her as a monkey.”

“Bullshit!” exclaimed Colin as we drove into the Cineplex parking lot.

I sighed. “Just remember. Having isn’t always as pleasurable as wanting.”

Colin laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

*  *  *

It was oh-dark-thirty as Nick, and I stood in his garage to load up his truck. It was Saturday morning, and we had a hundred-and-fifty-mile drive ahead of us to get to Alpine for the next race. The fluorescent light fixture was buzzing and flickering and giving me a headache.

Mom and Dad think I’m just riding along to help Nick load and unload his bike. I don’t like lying to my own parents, but if I told them the truth, I’d still be snug in my bed instead of holding Nick’s bike in place after I mashed a finger.

I held his bike on the bike trailer as Nick tightened down the straps. As Nick slammed the tailgate closed on his aging Ford F-150, he said, “Go change into your leathers. We need to get going.”

I frowned. “I can’t keep doing this, Nick. Two weeks ago, you said you were going to get a new rider.”

Nick frowned back at me. “Why? I’d have to pay them. I haven’t gotten any sponsors yet. You get to race, so no big deal.”

“I’m wearing pink leathers! I’m being mistaken for a girl!” I complained.

“I think it’s hilarious,” laughed Nick.

I sighed. “Eventually, I’m going to run into someone I know! Colin is determined to see the girl.”

“And when you do, we’ll have a big laugh about it. Now go put on your leathers so we can hit the road.”

I ran off to Nick’s living room and proceeded to strip and then squeeze into the very pink leathers which had caught a lot of attention as well as Colin’s imagination. My slight frame and longish hair, as well as being dressed in bright pink, does help to suggest I’m female.

I picked up my helmet and set it down on the jump seat in the back of the small cab of Nick’s truck. I climbed into the truck and waited for Nick to lock up his house. The sun was just breaking the horizon.

Nick got into his truck and cranked the engine over. He put on a pair of shades and adjusted them. He turned towards me with a grin and said, “All right, campers. Let’s roll.” Sometimes I think Nick has landed on his head one too many times.

The drive to Alpine was mostly uneventful. Nick’s choice of very loud heavy metal music made the trip seem even longer than it was. We drove through several patches of rain, but it was sunny and dry when we hit the 16th Street track in Alpine. There were a lot of bikes, and we were participating in just one of the events at the big motocross track. While not exactly a national park, there were a lot of trees.

After arriving, we had to unload the bike and start preparing. I got the same treatment as before in not being allowed to help with the heavy, dirty work. Not by Nick, but by the other riders around us. Nick did gather his own wrenches rather than asking me to fetch them for him.

It was so embarrassing to stand there doing nothing while attracting attention from men and boys walking through the pit area. Most just stared at me with goofy expressions as they walked past. A few actually stopped and talked to me. Flirting, I guess would be a better word for it.

While Nick was checking out his bike, a local news crew of all things walked up to me. All the men staring at me moved in a bit closer as the news guy and his cameraman got close. A female motocrosser gave me a thumbs up.

“Excuse me, miss,” said the newsguy politely. “Marvin Raskin, Big 2 News. Do you mind if we have a few words with you?”

Feeling even more embarrassed, I said, “Sure. I guess.”

Smiling, Marvin said, “We couldn’t help but notice you in your obvious feminine attire. We wanted to ask you about how you feel being one of the few women participating in this testosterone-fueled event?”

How can I answer this since I’m not a woman? I said, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t have any problems. The women racers get respect because they win.”

Marvin asked, “You don’t race your own bike, correct?”

I chuckled. “I’m a monkey. I toss my body weight around to help control the bike.”

“How do you feel about your chances today?”

I folded my arms and said, “The same as anyone’s. This is a tough track. And we’re trying to motocross with a sidecar. I’m going to be busy.”

Marvin took a step closer to me and said, “I’ve talked to several other riders here about you. More than a few are concerned that such a small girl as yourself could get hurt doing this. You’re the only female in this class. Some feel that Nick Wilson, your racer, is putting you at undue risk just for a stunt.”

I took a deep breath and stood staring icily at Marvin for several moments. I said, “We’re here to race. And we’re here to win.” I turned, terminating the interview, to walk over to see if I could assist Nick in anything. Marvin walked away to pester someone else.

Crouched in the dirt, Nick looked up at me as I approached and grinned. “Well, if’n you ain’t the darlin’ of the racetrack. Just soakin’ up all that attention. I think every guy at the track has asked me if you’re single. Most walk away after I tell them you’re seventeen. You have a lot of fans.”

I grunted. “Just because I’m wearing pink leathers. Just ridiculous.”

Nick stood up, pushing his longish, greasy hair out of his face. “There’s that. But I guess you can’t see it. You make a very pretty girl. If I didn’t know better, I’d be tempted to hit on you myself.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “That’s kinda creepy, Nick.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. From me anyway.” He retrieved a grimy red shop rag from his back pocket and proceeded to smear oil and grease around on his hands. “Hey. Would you mind hanging out here in the pit to keep an eye on my stuff? I’ll go get us a couple of hotdogs from the concession stand.”

I frowned. “I left my wallet at your house, Nick. I can’t even squeeze my fingers into these pockets.”

Nick waved me off as he started to walk away. “I got it. Pretty girls don’t pay.” He chuckled.

Just great. He left me alone with all these men around. Actually, I felt sure no one would bother me. I sat on his truck’s tailgate to wait for Nick’s return.

While sitting on the tailgate, a couple of boys, looking around eighteen or so, approached me. I wanted to run.

The boy with wild sandy blond hair with an embarrassed smile said, “Hey.”

I smiled weakly back. “Hey.” This guy might be a real heartbreaker with the girls because I have to admit he’s very cute. But he’s not exactly a stellar conversationalist.

The pointed at me and asked, “You’re Randi, right?”

I smiled at him. “That’s the rumor.”

He released an embarrassed laugh. “We were just wanting to ask you… you don’t have to… if we could take a picture with you?”

My gut told me to tell this kid to get lost. I smiled at him and said, “Sure.” I slid off the tailgate to stand on the ground.

The boy who asked stepped very close to me and slid his arm around my waist. I didn’t really like him doing that, but I figured it would be over quickly. He wore a big grin while his friend took several pictures. Of course, his friend wanted pictures as well.

Before the two boys could walk away, one of the girl motocrossers walked up with her phone and asked one of the boys to take a picture with me with her. She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled while one of the boys took her picture. I thought my sudden celebrity was just crazy. Another racer, one of the older men, had me sit side saddle on his motocross bike while he stood behind me.

Nick finally returned with our hotdogs and some drinks. He laughed, looking at me as I got another picture taken. “What in the Sam Hill is going on here?” He set our food down on his truck’s tailgate. “I think I’m going to start charging for photos.”

I shrugged at Nick as I walked up to the tailgate to grab a hotdog. “I don’t know what that was all about. All of a sudden, everyone wanted my picture.”

A girl racer walked next to me while pushing her bike. She looked rather scruffy with unkempt hair, dirty leathers and muddy boots. She slapped my ass and grinned. “It’s because you’re an angel.” She laughed and walked on.

A guy I recognized from being in Nick’s graduating class took a swig from his water bottle and punched Nick on the shoulder. He said, “She <i>is</i> an angel. Where did you find her, Nick.”

I frowned. “I think you guys are crazy.”

*  *  *

Nick jumped on the starter after we rolled the bike to the starting line, and the engine roared to life. I climbed onto the sidecar and looked at the line-up. Some of these guys were well-seasoned pros. Not that Nick is a slacker. I admit that I was more than a bit apprehensive about this race. In two previous motocross races, two racers won themselves an ambulance ride into town. This track has earned its bad rep.

A race official stretched the rubber band in front of the line-up. I crouched and got a tight grip on the sidecar’s railing. I heard the bike’s transmission clunk down into first gear amid all the revving engines.

The rubber band snapped, and I was pulled back as Nick released the clutch. The back wheel, instead of sending a rooster tail of dirt, spun on the hard ground. There was a short straightaway at the start that turned into a very tight turn at a dip. Everyone’s goal was to be the first one at the turn to avoid the bottleneck.

We slammed into the bike in front of us, causing us to roll on our side, tossing me into the dirt. As I lay on the ground, slightly dazed and before I could regain my feet, I had the air knocked out of me, and I was pushed back onto the ground as the bike behind us used my back as a ramp to launch himself over two fallen bikes. I scrambled to my feet and rushed to help Nick right our bike. Gasoline had been running out of the filler cap on the tank and sizzled as it hit the hot engine. Bikes were trying to get around us as Nick kicked the engine through twice before it started.

I held on for dear life as Nick quickly maneuvered around the choke point and then opened the throttle wide. A couple of short hills got us airborne a few times, tossing me around on the sidecar only to lean hard in a turn.

Another downward hill, we managed to get the wheels off the ground to land hard on the front wheel, nearly tossing me over the front rail of the sidecar. Something had been knocked loose, but I couldn’t tell what it was. We splashed through a shallow stream before another sharp turn. A sudden drop compressed the front forks, again almost tossing me from the sidecar, then we hit another hill. As we neared the top, the rear wheel began to just spin on the hard surface of the dirt as it found little traction.

As we slid through the gravel of another sharp turn, a bike in front of us slid off the track and slammed into a tree. On a gravel-strewn straightway, Nick twisted the throttle all the way and then went into a broadslide as we began a new circuit of the track. I was going to be black and blue after all this.

Nick had us roar across the finish line, grabbing third place. As we rolled to a stop, I jumped off the sidecar and collapsed on a grassy spot. I was exhausted. There were two more heats in this race. I wasn’t sure if I could make it. The monkey on the bike that came in second, stretched his muscles as he stepped off the sidecar. He looked at me laying on the ground, breathing hard and exclaimed. “Shit, man, I thought this was supposed to be a tough course!” He laughed as he and his teammate rolled their bike back to their pit area.

As we stood up, Nick looked at me and laughed. “Shit, Randi. You have a tread mark up your back!”

“Yeah, some asshole used me as a ramp!” I said as I stretched out my muscles.

Looking at me seriously, Nick asked, “You okay?”

I nodded. “I don’t think anything’s broken. But now my leathers are ruined.”

Nick looked at my back again. “I think the cleaners can take that out.”

*  *  *

I think I slept some of the drive back home.  I hope Nick stayed awake. Anyway, it was pretty late getting back to Nick’s garage. After the last race, both of us were pretty exhausted. At least when they handed out trophies, the track had its own girl to give out kisses. Nick finished 4th overall. So we were both disappointed.

I handed the pink leathers to Nick after I’d changed. He promised to take them to the cleaners. They probably needed a good cleaning anyway.

As I was walking to my car, parked outside Nick’s house, my cell phone notified me I had a message. Who the crap would be messaging me at this hour? I pulled the phone from my pocket to read the text message. I froze for a moment. I rushed back to Nick’s house and rang his doorbell multiple times.

“What the hell’s your problem, Randy? I thought you were leaving.” Nick had already removed his shirt.

I handed him my phone. “We have a problem.” The message was from Colin, who had stayed home instead of going to Alpine to watch the races. In his message was the picture of me in the pink leathers with that one cute boy with his arm around my waist. The text read, “Randy! A friend sent me this. I had no idea you were a girl!”

<i>End of part 2</i>