The first week back at work after the summer holiday was tedious. There were many good things about summer as a bike rider of course, and the nightly midnight ride home on the ZZR was always a chance to let rip a bit.
Come Thursday night and as I am riding home, maybe quarter to one in the morning, I saw a bike with a learner plate parked at a bus stop next to a block of closed shops. Now seeing a learner plated rider out after 10pm is breaking the licence conditions, so this made me think. No worry to me of course, but, coupled with the helmet hanging on a mirror and a car parked at an odd angle in front of the bike, I just had this weird feeling something was amiss.
As I'd just flashed past this scene at a slightly illegal speed, I decided to do a U-turn and check that all was in order. Us bikers have to look out for one another you see, and this wasn't the best part of town, so with a mixture of concern and caution I rode up behind the parked bike after having done a second U-turn.
In the bus shelter I now see the rider fending off a young man who seems rather enraged, pushing the rider around, yelling loudly and punching wildly. As I approach the bus shelter I check that there's no one else in the car or lurking nearby in the shadows, basic army training stays with you I guess.
"Hey fellas, what's the go here?" I call out as I get close, at which the attacking man turns on me in a flash. OK, this isn't what I expected, maybe an ambush then? He flashes a blade at me and lunges for me. Shame he missed me, stumbled and helped by my swift foot ended up kissing the pavement. Taking the blade off him, kicking him in the kidneys and then standing on one of his hands I call out to the rider: "You alright there mate?"
"Yes, no, please help, he…." a female voice calls out in a shaky fashion.
The guy on the pavement starts yelling and screaming, interrupting the rider, and telling me that I've got it all wrong. With a bit more pressure on his hand he soon shuts up and I call on the female rider to continue.
"He stopped when I ran out of petrol, then when I didn't want to….he began pushing me around, hitting me, and then you rode past…and I was so glad you turned around…." she said as she promptly burst into tears and slumped to the ground in the bus shelter.
Sitting on the guys' lower back I fished out my cell phone and called the police. The operator said there was already a unit on the way to the location I'd given, someone from across the road had called already. The guy I'm restraining doesn't want to stay put; a quick smack in the face sorts him out. The operator asks what that commotion was and I explained I was restraining the attacker at present but getting sick of his language and continued attempts to escape.
"Yeah well, reasonable force is fine sir," she says as she hears me bop him another one.
"I can hear a siren now, so I guess we'll be fine soon, thanks," I say as I stay on the line until the boys in blue charge in and take over.
Pretty soon we've got three patrol cars on scene and all I want to do is go home and to sleep. A brief statement along with my particulars is all that the officer in charge needed. He compared what I'd said with the caller's statement, as he'd witnessed the whole thing from across the road, and I was free to go. It wasn't until I was lying in bed that it dawned on me how this whole thing could have turned nasty. Still, I felt like I'd done the right thing. I slept like a baby that night and put the whole thing to the back of my mind.
Around 8am on Saturday morning the police call and want me to come down to give a detailed statement. That was done soon enough, court date would be advised etc. The victim's family wanted my contact details, was that OK? Sure why not is all I said to that, and soon enough I'm home with my head on the pillow again, dead to the world.
Early in the afternoon I had my bike out in front of the garage, washing it, tensioning and lubing the chain etc. when a top end Merc pulls up, a well-kept lady hops out and walks up the driveway carrying a small gift basket. There's just something about a woman who rocks up in $200,000 car wearing $500 high heels, an outfit worth several thousand and jewellery worth more than my bike. Let's just say she had my undivided attention the minute her firm pins walked up my driveway...
"Hi, are you Nick Lassiter?" she asks as I get up from the ground.
"Yes, m'am, and you are?" I replied.
"Oh, I am Emma Carrajanis, Trudy's mom," she says.
"Thursday night's damsel in distress I suppose?" I ask, merely confirming the obvious.
"Uhuh, got it in one," she laughs nervously.
"How is your daughter doing now?" I asked, now noticing how Emma is trembling slightly.
"How about a coffee and a brief sit-down?" I add.
"Yes please," Emma quickly answers.
I washed my hands, shook her hand, at which she put the basket on the ground, wrapped her arms around me and just hugged me for what seemed like at least a minute. She didn't say anything until she let me go. "Did you know the guy you took down was a convicted rapist?" Emma asked with tears forming in her eyes.
"C'mon let's get inside and you can tell me the whole thing m'am," I answered as I led her inside, scooping up the basket she brought.
As I make coffee I just dismiss what I did: "To me what I did was simply the right thing at the time, I'm just pleased your daughter didn't fall prey to this guy."
Emma was visibly shaking as she retells her version of events: "I was so disappointed you'd left the scene only minutes before I got there myself. To hear Trudy say how you screamed past, turned around, raced up, pummelled the bastard to the ground, smashed him in the face repeatedly when he wouldn't shut up, made sure she was not hurt, calmly called the police, smashed the bastards' face some more, talked to the cops for a few minutes, and promptly rode off as quick as you arrived."
"Wow, that's not quite how I remember it m'am," I laughed as I sipped my coffee. "To me it was simply a biker in distress, and we help each other out whenever possible. Basic army training took care of the rest, it was all over in no time," I said calmly, watching how her face took on a quizzical look.
"Please call me Emma," she urged as she continued: "Yes, you may dismiss it as easily as that…but for me…my little girl could have been….I'm sorry I just can't bear the…." she trembled and started sobbing, putting her face in her hands.
Getting on my knees I put my arms around her as she gently sobbed on my shoulder. This was unfamiliar territory for me, a woman crying in my arms while thanking me for something I'd done for her kid… Several minutes later, she seemed all cried out, regained her composure and the box of tissues on the table came in handy.
"You must think I'm a real basket case huh?" Emma asked as she dabbed her face, makeup now somewhat smeared.
As she touched up her makeup, I tried to explain: "No m'am, sorry Emma, I don't judge people on that basis. And anyway, why would you worry about what a stranger thinks of you?"
"Yes so true, my late husband had similar sentiments," Emma said with a sad look. "Trudy was only 12 when he died, but even back then he'd promised her a bike for her 18th birthday, so I just let her have the bike. Shame her dad isn't around now to show her the inns and outs of riding, he was such a keen rider you know Nick," she says, now with a happier face.
"Sorry to hear that," I said softly. "Oh well, it's been six years so…." Emma countered.
"A widow at 29, such a shame," I half mumbled, at which Emma's face broke into a big grin. "You charmer you, a widow at 29, I wish….no hang on I didn't mean it like that," Emma now laughed.
"Now, Trudy wants to meet you, thank you in person, would you please…Nick?" she asked, subtly changing the subject.
"Whenever you're ready m'am, sorry Emma I mean," I said. "If you call me m'am one more time I will put you over my knee and spank you sonny!" she scowled at me, breaking into a grin as she said it.
"Only one problem with that m'am, I might actually enjoy it if you spanked me…." I said as I lifted my eyebrows quickly. She was momentarily lost for words, so now I changed the subject again: "So yes, Trudy, one weekend, here or at your abode?"
Emma, now shaking her head and laughing: "Please come to our house, ride up and she'll be so thrilled. Who knows, you might want to impart some of your knowledge on her. Tomorrow OK for you sonny?"
"Yes of course, about lunchtime? And if you call me sonny I will have to spank you m'am," I said, now unable to keep a straight face.
"Ah, I see, but of course I might enjoy….…have you considered that?" Emma said, adding: "Lunchtime is perfect, join us for lunch please?"
"Done, will see you then," I said as we made our way outside. Emma lingered at the ZZR, admiring it briefly but not saying anything.
"See you tomorrow Nick," she said as she hopped in her fancy Merc and zoomed off.
I was a little ashamed at having flirted with Emma, but at the same time it was only meant to lighten the atmosphere… She seemed to enjoy it; otherwise she wouldn't have repeatedly tracked back to the suggestive comments right?