I had been living in Florida and had decided to return to Portsmouth. An old man who seemed to be crippled and who also seemed to be my employee was going to go with me. After starting out together in a car I was driving, I soon pulled into a service station for gas. I put $44 worth of gas into the car and then gave the attendant a master card to pay. He walked inside and I waited for what seemed like a very long time for him to return.
Finally I walked inside to see what the problem was. He was on the phone, apparently checking to see if the master card was valid. Finally he hung up, walked over to me and said the card was good. He said there seemed to have been some question about my using more than one name. I told him that I sometimes used the name Roy and sometimes Steven but that they were both actually my names. I said I was in the process of changing my name from Steven Collier to another name and that I had been using the name Roy in the process. I repeated my name to show him that it had a rather dull sound and I wanted something catchier.
I walked back outside and found the older man sitting outside the car. He had become upset about my paying for the gas with the credit card and he was concerned that I wasn't actually going to pay for it. I told him he could have his own way and I got into the car. Since the car was sitting on a slope and I was unable to pull it forward, I decided to back to the bottom of the incline to get a better start. I figured that by the time I had done all that, the old man would be ready to get in.
As I backed up, I began thinking the old man simply didn't understand all my responsibilities. It was I and not he who had to pay the bills. It was I and not he upon whom everyone depended. I had to not only pay him, but I had to provide for myself.
Having reached the bottom of the slope I began going forward. But something seemed different about the automobile and it slowly dawned on me that I was riding a rather large motorcycle, the power of which I could feel as I maneuvered the handlebars. Instead of a windshield I now had a helmet with a visor on it. I flipped up the visor so that nothing was between my face and the world.
I hadn't ridden a motorcycle in a long time, but the feel came back quickly. It felt good, but I thought of what a bloody mess it would make if I were to wreck. I was concerned whether the cycle was in good working order; it somehow seemed a little loose. But I thought overall it was probably all right. I began going faster and faster up the gravel road and I was about to reach the top of a ridge. I couldn't see if anything was coming in the other direction, but I raced on and suddenly flew over the top. It was an exhilarating feeling as I momentarily became airborne.
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