Lisa sat silent and seething during the short drive from Screen Door to River City Bikes. Ellen’s words echoed in her head. ‘Either Patrick helps me, or he goes to jail.’ As soon as the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot, Lisa leapt out and slammed her door shut. Determined to reach Patrick before Ellen did, she sped ahead, not waiting for her mother or Jamie.
Maybe he could still make a run for it, Lisa thought. Or toss the drugs. As she turned toward the entrance, she saw a cop car. Two officers sat waiting and watching. She gave them the finger and made a beeline for the door.
She stepped into the cavernous store, momentarily distracted by the bright lights and loud music. A shopper wearing a garish jersey and bike shorts walked past, his cycling shoes making his gait unnatural and birdlike.
Lisa glanced back and saw Jamie holding the door open for Ellen. The friends exchanged sympathetic looks. Lisa turned to head further into the shop but was momentarily stopped by a traffic jam of customers.
A sales clerk wearing a River City T-shirt was espousing the merits of bike lights to a customer, but paused mid-sentence as he caught sight of Lisa. He called out to her and held up his palm for a high five. Lisa accommodated, smacking his large hand.
“Woah, you’ve been working out, girl? Damn,” he said, shaking his hand as though it stung.
Lisa smiled and said, “Hi Damon. Have you seen Patrick?” Damon was one of Patrick’s three roommates, definitely the best of the bunch, in Lisa’s opinion. His tidy room was a standout among the others, including Patrick’s.
“Sure, he’s upstairs in the shop. Be warned, he looks like shit. What’s he gotten into?”
“You really don’t want to know,” she said.
“Anytime you’re done with him, you have my number,” Damon said with a wink.
She just smiled. Walking past, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder to see if he was still smiling at her. The customer raised his hand in a feeble attempt to regain Damon’s attention, but his focus had already turned to Jamie, who had followed close at Lisa’s heels.
“Jamie! How’ve you been, woman? Why don’t you call me?” Damon wrapped Jamie in a bear hug.
“Shameless,” Lisa muttered.
Ellen caught up with Lisa and looked nervously around the sales floor. Compulsively, she brushed invisible dirt from her pale linen jacket and looked suspiciously at the sales staff who sported an assortment of tattoos, creative facial hair, mohawks, and shaved heads. Her mother was, for once, completely out of her element, and it gave Lisa a feeling of intense satisfaction.
“Maybe you should wait in the car. You don’t want to get bike grease on that two-thousand-dollar pantsuit,” said Lisa.
“This is not a pantsuit, young lady. It’s just a suit. And it was very reasonably priced from Anne Taylor. Oh god, never mind. Where is Patrick?”
“He’s upstairs in the mechanic’s shop, and I’m going to talk to him first. Alone.”
“How do I know you won’t destroy the evidence?” she hissed, just as Jamie joined them.
“Lisa,” said Jamie, “please tell your mother you won’t destroy the evidence.”
“No,” said Lisa, defiantly.
“Then take me to Patrick, now,” Ellen demanded, narrowly dodging a mechanic who rushed by with a well-oiled bike chain hanging from his fingers.
“Mother, no,” said Lisa firmly. “I would like a moment to explain to Patrick just how much you’re going to F-up his life if he doesn’t play along. Maybe he’ll actually listen to me because there is no way he’ll listen to you.”
“Fine. But hurry. I don’t have all day.”
Lisa nodded, then turned and ran up a set of rubber-coated stairs to the second floor. She reached the top of the landing and paused briefly where she had to cross the indoor track to reach the mechanic’s shop. A customer test driving a bike swept by. The track had been constructed along the perimeter of the store’s second-level balcony, which overlooked the main shopping floor and gave customers a place to evaluate the merits of road bikes rain or shine. It also served as a treacherous pathway to the employee’s only area. She double-checked the way was clear and quickly stepped into the mechanic’s shop. She was relieved to see Patrick was the only person in the room.
Patrick didn’t notice her enter. She watched for a moment as he stood at his workbench, absorbed in gently threading a bike chain. His long thin fingers nimbly maneuvered the metal links, fitting them perfectly into place. He gave the back wheel a spin and it produced a satisfying purr. He wiped his grease-covered hands with a rag. Finally sensing another presence, he looked toward the door. Lisa stood leaning against the frame and felt the periodic swish of a bike coasting by, stirring her ponytail. Patrick threw the rag on his workbench and turned away.
“Why are you here?” he asked, his back to her. He restlessly cleaned his tools and straightened his already organized workbench.
“We have to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” he said.
“Fine, then let’s play show and tell. Where’s your messenger bag?” she asked.
He kicked at it under his workstation where it sat, a sad lump of canvas.
She walked over, grabbed the shoulder strap, and dragged it out.
“What are you doing?” asked Patrick.
Ignoring him, she flipped the bag open and dug around, finding a crumpled paper sack in amongst a motley collection of paperbacks, tattered notebooks, and bike tools. She pulled the sack out and dumped its contents onto his bench. A pile of small brown paper packets filled with white powder spilled over the wrenches and tubes of grease and oil.
“What the hell, Lisa?”
“What the hell indeed, Patrick.” She held up a packet and read, “‘Like a Virgin’? What is this crap?”
He grabbed the packet from her hand, and frantically pushed it and the rest of the drugs back into the paper bag. “It’s coke. Jesus, Lisa. Someone could see. Are you trying to get me fired?”
“What do you care? Looks like you have a new job selling this shit,” she said. “Why did you even bother coming to work? Shouldn’t you be standing on some corner in Old Town with the other dealers?”
He looked stricken at her words, and she immediately regretted saying them.
“Fine,” he responded gruffly. “And why aren’t you out
turning tricks?”
Just as quickly, she wished she’d been harsher. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Yeah, well, you broke my heart.” He sat down on a stool and looked at the paper bag in his hand. Neither spoke for a long moment. He had a smear of grease across one cheek. His hair was a snarled mess, and his eyes looked almost bruised with dark circles of exhaustion. She realized with a pang of guilt how much she’d hurt him.
“Listen, that guy and I . . . It was all a terrible, stupid mistake,” she said. “Nothing happened between us.”
“You took his money.”
“I was drunk, and I was angry with you and with my mom. I was just doing what you both expected of me.”
“Let’s be honest. You took the cash because you need it. Don’t you see? That’s why I’m dealing. I’m trying to help you.”
She touched his arm gently. “Selling drugs is not what I’d call helping. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.” Her eyes held his, and for a moment everything was quiet and still between them. Then his gaze shifted to something behind her.
Lisa turned and saw her very impatient mother and a sheepish-looking Jamie behind her.
“Sorry. She insisted on coming up,” said Jamie. “I couldn’t stop her.”
“Does he have the drugs with him?” Ellen asked Lisa.
Lisa glared at her mother, then turned to Patrick. With an exaggerated sweep of her hand, she said, “Patrick, I’d like you to meet my mother, Ellen Salder, the great mayor of Portland.”
Ellen ignored the introduction and held out her hand. “Give me the bag, please.”
Lisa took the paper bag from Patrick, who gave it up without a fight, and handed it to her mother.
Ellen took a look inside. Satisfied, she tucked it into her purse. “That’s everything?” she asked.
Lisa looked at Patrick.
“Yeah. That’s all of it,” he said, sounding more mystified
than concerned.
“I take it Lisa has explained things,” said Ellen.
“Not even a little bit,” he said.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes. Don’t make me wait too long.” She turned to leave, then leapt back with a gasp as another bike rolled by at top speed. “What was that? This place is
a nightmare.”
“Let me help, Mayor Salder,” said Jamie, who checked the bike path and waved her forward when it was clear.
Lisa and Patrick stood for a moment in silence.
“What was that all about?” asked Patrick.
“My mom knows about the drugs, that you’re dealing for Sheila, and everything else that happened last night.”
Patrick just shook his head helplessly. “You told her? How did you even know?”
“I didn’t tell her shit. She picked me and Jamie up this morning and told us this crazy story about Sheila selling drugs out of food carts, and that you were in the middle of it. She said if you didn’t cooperate, she’d have you thrown in jail.”
“Listen, I don’t want to have anything to do with this.”
“Patrick, we have to go with her. She wants to bring down Sheila, and she wants you to help her do it. If you don’t, she’ll mess with your life in ways you can’t imagine. Trust me, I know. She already has cops waiting out front.”
“Sheila said she’d kill me,” he said, looking pale.
Lisa just shrugged. “My mother will do worse. Get your stuff. We need to go.” She motioned for him to go ahead of her.
He looked at her helplessly. “What? Do you think I’ll make a run for it?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I would.”
Together they headed down the stairs, toward the unexpected sounds of cheers and applause. A crowd had gathered around Ellen, and the horrifying truth dawned on Lisa—her mother was giving a speech. She grabbed Patrick’s hand and pulled him behind a rack of bike shorts with padded crotches that bulged pornographically.
“This city needs strong leadership. Let me continue to work for you, the people of Portland,” said Ellen, emphasizing each phrase with a gesture. “With your support, I can stop the flow of drugs that continue to pour into our city. I will strive to improve Portland’s infrastructure and emergency preparedness as we face challenges ranging from the specter of a long-predicted earthquake to forest fires and climate change.”
A man standing next to Lisa and Patrick yelled out, “I bet you don’t even recycle!”
Impressed that anyone would dare insult her mother, Lisa whispered to him, “She doesn’t, and she flat-out refuses to compost.” Her gaze returned to her mother, and she saw that Jamie was now standing at Ellen’s side with a stony expression vaguely matching that of a secret service agent. Her friend appeared to scan the room, looking for potential attackers. Flanking Ellen’s right stood the store’s manager, smiling widely and nodding enthusiastically at everything she had to say. Lisa had once heard him call Ellen a right-wing-blowhard-hack. Apparently, her mother’s charisma had won him over.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “What a nightmare,” she whispered to Patrick.
In her most sonorous voice, Ellen concluded with, “Last, and certainly not least, I want to further underline my commitment to Portland’s bike culture. I will not rest until there are five bikes to every car in this city.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting, “Share the road! Share the road! Share the road!”
Ellen caught Lisa’s eye through the mass of shoppers and staff. The tiniest twitch of her eyebrow indicated that it was time to leave. Jamie cleared a path through the crowd toward the entrance, and Lisa followed, pulling Patrick along behind her.
The manager escorted Ellen outside and shook her hand enthusiastically. Her face was frozen in a look of canned pleasure that nearly betrayed her irritation.
To Lisa’s surprise, Jamie stepped between the two of them and spoke. “It has been such a thrill for the mayor to visit the shop and speak to your staff and customers, but she has to get back to City Hall.”
“Of course. Official business. It was so great to meet you, Mayor Salder, thank you.”
Ellen waved goodbye and briskly headed toward her parked car.
“Thanks, and don’t forget to vote,” called Jamie, as she, Lisa, and Patrick followed quickly behind.
“I actually liked that job,” said Patrick, glumly.
“You’re not fired. Mayor Salder took care of it. That’s what started the whole speech thing. She met the manager and said that she needed you to assist with,” Jamie held up her fingers in air quotes, “‘official City Hall business.’ He was so starstruck. It was kind of hilarious. That was a great speech, Mayor Salder. Really inspiring.”
They’d reached the car. Lisa got in the back seat with Jamie and whispered in her ear, “What is wrong with you? Have you forgotten my mother is a monster?”
Jamie just shook her head. “I don’t know, Lisa. Something came over me. Your mom was giving her speech, and a dude started heckling her. I just sensed a void that needed to be filled. Being a public figure must be stressful.”
Lisa choked back a sarcastic retort and said instead, “For a minute there, you looked like you were ready to tackle half the crowd.”
Jamie laughed, “Oh my god, I think I might have.”
“Yeah, well, watch out. Help her too much, and she might just offer you a job.”