The first time she saw the boy in the black leather jacket he had been astride an expertly restored Harley Davidson unseeingly staring off across the wildflower meadow next to George Bower's garage, a lit cigarette burning down to nothing held absently between forefinger and thumb. He didn't bother to push away the long, wind-blown hair falling into his dark, brooding eyes. So oblivious to all was he that he didn't even notice he was being watched most carefully.
When he finally looked up and saw her, their eyes locked for a second that lasted a year. There was instant attraction for both. He had the rugged good looks often seen in Calvin Klein ads but there was more there. She saw it all then. Even at a distance she could make out a deep sadness, a resonating ache and resentment almost palpable all in his eyes. He had suffered. She could tell and she inexplicably wished to erase it all. Crazy it was for she knew nothing about him and crazier still because she doubted he would allow her the privilege.
Being caught in this unguarded moment rankled him. He threw down the cigarette-turned-to-ashes and stomped on it, his eyes narrowed. The curtains had closed. He was the tough guy now, the one who feels nothing because that's the only way he knew how to survive. He raised an insolent eyebrow and swept his eyes down and up again telling her silently she was nothing to him, just something nice to look at. He would, if given the chance, treat her like crap and not feel remotely sorry for it. "You up for that, Babe?" his smirk seemed to say.
Instead of being repulsed and insulted as he undoubtedly expected her to be, his lustful gaze felt like a warm, gentle caress. She smiled at him serenely. He frowned, shook his head no doubt thinking her a naive, stupid little girl and looked away.
"Well, George, what's the verdict?" Reverend Campbell asked grimly, expecting the worst.
"Don't know what idiot told you it was the transmission, Reverend, but you probably shouldn't be going to him no more," George said jovially, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his faded denims just under his protruding belly. "Twas nothing more than loose and rusty battery cable connectors."
Mandy giggled and said, "Uncle Clinton isn't very bright."
"Amanda! Respect for your elders," her father said harshly.
Abashed she lowered her eyes to the ground meekly saying, "Yes, Papa."
"Are you certain, George?" Reverend Campbell asked skeptically, turning back to George.
"Yep, took Nick but ten minutes to see it had nothing to do with the transmission," George replied amicably.
"You didn't look at my car?" Reverend Campbell asked evidently annoyed.
George grinned sheepishly. "Well, no, but, to say the truth, Nick's better at fixing cars than even me. Funny that, as I taught him all I know. I'd like it if you didn't spread that around, Reverend," he replied lifting his grease-stained Braves baseball cap to scratch the top of his balding head. Amanda giggled again and he winked at her.
"Amanda, mind your manners," her father hissed angrily.
"Yes, Papa," she mumbled contritely, looking down at her toes.
"Anyway, Nick will tell you. He's right over there on his bike. You know that's the same one my boy wrapped around a tree last year almost killing himself. Destroyed it. I was about to haul it to the junkyard when Nick says he can fix it. Couldn't believe it. Fixed it up real nice. Made him my pro-toe-jay after that," George said carefully, making Mandy giggle again.
"Amanda," her father warned.
"Sorry, Papa," she muttered casting eyes down.
Reverend Campbell cast a stern look over his shoulder at the boy. "That's Elmer Johnson's bastard. Landed himself in prison when he killed the whore. What was her name? Beaufort, Karen I think," he said dispassionately.
Visibly taken aback George stared at him. "Well, yeah, Reverend, but Nick couldn't help where he comes from no more than us. He's had it rough. No doubt about that but he's a good boy. Always works real hard, harder than my other two boys put together. And he's real smart. He finished school," George said defensively.
"Just the same, George, I'd rather you take care of my car in future. So, how much do I owe you?" Reverend Campbell asked tersely, pulling out his wallet.
"It was nothing. Two bucks and ten minutes time. Don't worry about it," George said stiffly. "If you like you could give Nick a tip as he did the work."
"All right," Reverend Campbell replied taking a five dollar bill out of the wallet.
Stricken, not only with her father's judgmental recital of Nick's dreadful parentage but also with his unconcern for Nick's worth, Mandy grabbed the wallet and pulled out a twenty. "You should give Nick something good, Papa. He fixed the car for practically nothing and in no time. You know Uncle Clinton would have bilked you for hundreds of dollars and taken weeks to do it if ....."
"Enough, Amanda! You will not speak in that manner," he said angrily. "George, you can give this to the boy with my thanks."
"You should give it to him, Reverend. Nick!" George said quickly, gesturing for the boy to come over. He reluctantly did taking slow strides with a belligerent expression on his face.
"Yeah, George?" he said deliberately avoiding looking at Mandy and casting wary glances at the Reverend.
"This is Reverend Campbell, Nick, and his daughter, Mandy," George said giving Mandy an affectionate grin.
"Sir, ma'am," Nick said with a slight inclining of the head for each, his eyes lingering ever so slightly longer on Mandy's enormous, bright blue ones. It was like an ocean wave crashing down on you. Her sweet smile made his heart jump for joy.
" Mandy's good friends with my Sue-Helen. Go to school together," George said happily. "Come summer they'll be inseparable, spending all their time at Millner's old watering hole trying to keep cool, won't ya, Mandy?"
She giggled and nodded enthusiastically. .
"Amanda has more important things to do now, George. Bible study, choir practice and such," Reverend Campbell interjected sternly.
Slightly surprised George stood speechless for a bit watching the smile vanish from Mandy's face. "Uh, well, I guess the girls can go to a picture show every once in a while,"he said hopefully.
"Amanda is old enough to know what is important, her studies and the church, not silly picture shows," Reverend Campbell insisted imperiously.
Mandy lifted her eyes briefly to Nick's in what he thought was a pleading gesture or had he imagined it?
"Yeah, well, Reverend Campbell has something for you, Nick, to thank you for fixing his car," George said slightly disheartened.
Amanda looked up and smiled at Nick. "We want to..." she started to say until she was interrupted.
"Amanda, hush!" Reverend Campbell said gruffly.
Nick met her eyes briefly before she cast them down and murmured, "Yes, Papa." A muscle worked in his cheek and he glowered at her father.
"Thank you," Reverend Campbell said grudgingly, thrusting the twenty into his hand.
" I don't need this," Nick said stiffly holding it out again.
"Now, Nick, it's just a thank you," George said glancing fearfully from one to the other. The animosity between the two was tangible.
"Please, take it. You saved Papa tons of..." Mandy started to say and again was interrupted.
"Amanda, you will speak when you are spoken to," her father said harshly.
Looking first at Nick she cast her eyes down resignedly muttering, "Yes, Papa."
Nick gave the reverend one contemptuous look and stuffed the money into Mandy's hand saying, "You need this more than me. Take your friend to the movies." He then stalked away, hopped onto his bike and strapped his helmet on before lighting another cigarette.
"Well, bye now," George said lamely, watching Reverend Campbell and Mandy getting into the car.
"Bye, Mr. Bower," Mandy said and looked towards Nick where he sat on his bike blowing smoke into the air. He glanced at her and the sadness was visible again only this time she thought it might be different. "Bye, Nick," she said lifting her hand to wave.
A raised eyebrow was all the answer she got before he threw the barely touched cigarette away, stomped on it and tore out of the lot setting gravel flying.
"Amanda, get in the car. What are you doing talking to that hoodlum?" her father said angrily.
"He's not a hoodlum, Papa. You heard George. He says Nick is a nice boy. I want to ask him to come to bible study. He should know God loves him,"she said quietly.
"You will not! Amanda, you are never to talk to that boy again. Do you hear me? Never!"
"But Papa, Nick's had such a hard life and if we show him some kindness..."
"Do not argue with me, Amanda. I say you are never to talk to that boy and you will obey me. Do I have your solemn promise?"he asked harshly.
She hid her hands in the folds of her dress and crossed her fingers in the age-old childish gesture. "Yes, Papa,"she muttered softly and she turned to the cloud of dust Nick left behind him.
She had every intention to see Nick again and talk to him and maybe, if God was willing to guide her, she might be able to help him. This would not be the last time she saw the boy in the black leather jacket. That was certain.