My family and I were at a bar in Sturgis when a fight broke out. My family may have started it. The fight was with another family that was amazingly arrogant and all had expected it would come to this since our first trip to Sturgis. They had made it obvious we were not welcome.
It was puzzling because our families looked like mirror images of each other, ordinary people playing bikers. I had guessed that someone had convinced the other family they needed to strut their stuff in the town.
I saw the one called Zelda jump on Mom's back and begin to pound her.
She was a very small woman dressed in black leather with tattoos on her arms and neck.
I lifted her off Mom and put her butt on a table and told her to stay then told Mom to go to her room. As Mom began to leave Zelda charged at her again and I stopped her. She took a swing at me and hit me on the shoulder.
I looked at her like she was demented, I was the biggest guy there and she may have been the smallest woman there. I saw some sanity creep into her eyes but she swung at me again. I put her in a bear hug.
"How fond are you of air in your lungs?" I asked her.
In answer she beat on my body and tried to knee me in the balls. I squeezed her harder and I saw panic creep into her eyes. I also saw cops coming in.
I carried her to the outside patio and sat us at a table. There were beers there so I handed one to her and I held the other. When the police went past I asked them what was going on in there. He said, "The usual, we are just making sure the war did not spill out here."
"Why would anybody come here to fight?"
"Exactly."
I looked at Zelda and she pretended not to have heard the exchange between me and the cop.
The cops took several members of our respective families away and peace was restored.
"You could have killed me." she said.
"Yes, but I'm not into that. You seemed to be seriously trying to hurt my mother so I did think about it for a second. What do you have against her?"
"She doesn't like me."
"She does not understand your biker persona. She does not see that is not who you are. She really thinks you are a dangerous outlaw animal."
"And you don't?"
"No, my first guess was you were an elementary school teacher but have changed that to college English Lit professor."
I saw her eyes widen in surprise then consider throwing her beer in my face.
I smiled and she grunted.
"And what are you? A psychic?"
"No, Psychologist."
"And you want to talk me out of my violent behavior."
"No, psychiatrists do that. I do research at the same university you preach Chaucer."
"What?"
I smiled and finished the beer then belatedly remembered it was not mine and stood.
I knew she knew we were colleagues.
I was sure she knew we were in high school together. I was a football player and she was a cheerleader, the one that took the high risks in their routines.
I was a sophomore and she was a senior so we moved in different circles but I had noticed the cute redhead and I was hard to miss.
"Well, are you coming? We need to get our families out of jail."
She got up, growled at me and I followed her out.
We were surprised to see our respective uncles put into the same squad cars handcuffed to each other.
"Well some dreams come true." I said.
"What?" she asked.
"My uncle Fred has had a crush on him for two years."
She laughed and walked over to them and said, "You two behave and don't try to talk the officer into leaving you handcuffed together."
Both looked at her in astonishment then looked at each other and burst into joyful smiles.
"Excuse me, are these guys a couple? The officer asked.
"They are now," Zelda said.
"OK, you two, out. I don't want my squad car contaminated with the likes of you."
The four of us immediately knew the officer was gay. We thanked him and walked our uncles to their bikes.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"We need to check out of our hotels, violent people stay there."
Zelda kissed her uncle's cheek and my uncle looked like he expected a kiss from her so she giggled and kissed him too.
"Well, that saved us money," I said.
"We can't go get our families out of jail while we are together, we would be exiled if we did."
"We will just growl at each other when we are at the station. That's my brothers bike. We can ride it there."
"Where is your bike?"
"I don't have one, I have an old Tundra. I drove the bikes here."
"You don't even bother playing the role do you?"
"No, probably because I worry about how deeply ingrained people are to their roles."
"That is a psychiatrists worry."
"I know, I apologize."
I started my brothers Harley and she got on the seat behind me and we headed to the police station.
Mom was there making arrangements to free our family from custody. Zelda's Grandmother was there doing the same.
Mom was taken aback when she saw my companion and showed definite fear of her.
Zelda was crestfallen.
"Mom, this is Dr. Elizabeth Carson, she is a professor at the University."
"What? She is the one that attacked me. She should be in jail."
"No, no one should be in jail especially Dad. Anyone here from the city would be glad to report that the well respected newsman was in a bar brawl with bikers. How would you like having him home all the time?"
"Oh, well. I will keep quiet."
Mom gave me that smile that mothers give their son when they think he is taking on something risky but thinks he can handle it. I kissed her cheek.
"How much is the bail?" Zelda quietly asked.
"There is no bail. They are in court now and will be fined then released."
"Oh, western justice. How are they getting home?"
I brought my SUV."
"And I brought my van," Zelda's Grandma said.
Zelda surprised Mom by introducing us to her grandmother. Mom and her grandma immediately began to share the grief their families had caused them.
I learned from the grandma that the one that had started the trouble was the boyfriend of Zelda's mother whom she obviously didn't like. He had pushed Dad.
I asked if they needed any help and they said no, that they had it covered.
"In that case, bye," I said and took Zelda's hand and walked out.
"Wait, wait, where are we going?"
"To the restaurant at the west end of town. Brawling makes me hungry."
"Breathing makes you hungry," she said but followed me to the bike.
We had a nice lunch and talked about our families and generally had an excellent non-date.
Elizabeth was in her mid-thirties, a redhead with a naturally wound-up disposition.