ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS

29. SEVENTY-YEAR-OLD EASY RIDER

★ Leonard ★

As soon as I finish cleaning my truck, I whistle for Bianco to get in the back and drive out the parking lot. I already know where I am heading, so I turn the wheel toward Santa Monica. After Santa Monica, the truck cruises through Malibu, Ventura, and Santa Barbara.

My destination is Monterey. I want to get to Big Sur by sundown and sleep under millions of stars tonight. This is my motivation for today. After passing Gaviota, the scenery becomes more mundane. When the truck passes Morro Bay, I check my rearview mirror, and a Harley-Davidson is following us.

Once the view is back to a beautiful coastline, a bike passes us and moves in front of the truck. He is wearing a black leather jacket with an American flag on his back, and his helmet is also a matching red, white, and blue. He is driving a chopper, something I have only seen in old films.

I decide to pass him to see what he looks like. I press down on the gas pedal, and the truck accelerates and passes him. The biker is an old dude with thin, long gray hair blowing in the wind, and his gut is resting on the tank. His gold-framed sunglasses remind me of one of the old actors.

I am checking him out through the rearview mirror, and the chopper passes the truck again. We go through these passing games while driving through Big Sur, the most beautiful location on Highway 1. I decide to stop and enjoy the view, so I coast my car along with the scenic point. As soon as I pull off the road, the chopper follows me. I am interested to know who this old biker is.

I get out of the truck with Bianco to enjoy the stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. I know it is the same ocean as Venice Beach, but it gives me a completely different impression. The air is crystal clear, and I can see far away into the horizon. When I have almost forgotten about the old biker, he comes close to me and says something I don't understand.

"Are you also running away from the draft?"

I turn around and look at his golden sunglasses.

"What did you say? I didn't get what you said."

He comes closer to me and shows me an old, crinkled paper.

"Did you know what happened yesterday?"

I don't usually follow any news outlets because most of the news is pretty depressing.

"No, I didn't watch the news yesterday."

He zips up his black leather jacket and tells me what happened.

"The Viet Cong seized the US embassy in Saigon! All hell will break loose now."

I have no idea what he is talking about. So I take the paper from his hand and try to read the article. The newspaper was dated February 1, 1968. It reads.

"A squad of Viet Cong guerillas attacks the U.S. Embassy in Saigon. The soldiers seized the embassy and held it for six hours until an assault force of U.S. paratroopers landed by helicopter on the building's roof and routed the Viet Cong."

I realize that he is talking about the Vietnam War. I know he is damn serious about it. In his mind, the Vietnam War is as real as the death of my fiancée. I feel as if I need to get away from him. Instead, I start to listen to his story.

"The government will send more troops to Vietnam to kill more Viet Cong. That is why I am dodging the draft to run away to Canada. There are already many Americans living there. If you want to come with me, I will show you the way."

I quietly listen to him to understand the situation. He is over seventy years old, and since 1968, he has crossed the border to Canada more than three hundred times. As I listen to him more keenly, it becomes evident that he hasn't been able to let go of what happened in his youth. The biker has been reliving it over and over as if this is still happening to him.

When I realize this could be my possible future, I desperately try to let go of my past and what happened to Beth. When I tell him that I am not interested in going to Canada with him, he swiftly goes back to his chopper and starts his engine. Before he takes off, he yells at me.

"If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him!"

Then he was gone from my sight.