Helping Marc - Part I
A Vision Quest Story
Trevor gently set his beer on the high-top table. “Is Dad still pissed?”
Rapidly tapping his foot, Bradford sighed. “Yes, very, very pissed.”
Brad’s wife, Jill, whose green eyes normally sparkled, now seemed almost gray. Her face was ashen with a serious expression as she reached out and gently touched her husband’s hand. She felt sorry for him, knowing how much his father’s approval meant. “Brad, didn’t Roosevelt talk to him?”
“Yeah, he did.” Brad said. “But he was counting on me joining the firm. I get why he feels like he does.”
It all started in the fall of 1970. Brad was in law school and Trevor was in the Navy serving in Vietnam. Trevor’s girlfriend, Laura, was an excellent cook and everyone loved her homemade pizza. She and Brad opened a pizza shop, with Brad taking care of the business side of things. They had a straightforward goal, offer high-quality food with plentiful servings.
The business took off. Brad and Laura opened a second restaurant, then a third. Eventually, they came to realize the business could be big. Brad continued to help even while in law school, with Jill pitching in with the accounting.
But, Brad’s father wanted to pass the law firm on to his oldest son, so the expectation always was that Brad would join the firm when he graduated. When he passed the bar exam on the first try, his father was thrilled.
Now, in June of 1973, they were at the grand opening of their fourth Pizza Land in downtown Philly. Brad had recently broken the news to his father that he would not be joining the firm. His father was not happy.
As the conversation continued, Laura smiled. She was a beauty, blond with deep blue eyes. She was a perfect match for Trevor, who were high school sweethearts. “I think he just needs time. He’s seen the restaurants grow… this is the fourth place, the fifth will open in three weeks… he knows that.”
Bradford stared off into the distance. “I know… but… sometimes I can’t believe I’m doing this. All that time in law school and passing the Bar. Maybe I should—”
Jill looked directly at her husband and said firmly. “Look, Brad. You can do whatever you want. If you don’t want to do this—”
Every time he looked at his wife, her short red hair and freckles mesmerized him. But he shook his head, standing he looked around the crowded restaurant and with determination said, “No, if I don’t give this a try, I’ll always regret it. Laura, your recipe got this whole thing going. Jill, you’ve put a lot into this too, doing the books for the company… we have to try.”
Trevor looked at his brother. “Brad, Dad will be fine. He saw the business plan, Roosevelt’s behind the idea. It’s not like you guys are going off half-cocked with a hair brain scheme. It’s a great idea. He just needs some time. I only wish I could be part of it.”
“Well there, little brother. You’re doing something far more important than running a pizza joint.”
Laura stood and walked behind Trevor and wrapped her arms around him. “Be careful over there, honey. I don’t want to lose you.”
He tilted his head back and kissed his wife. “I’ll be fine. The war is winding down. Plus, you have me for another week till I have to go back.”
It was a cool June day as the sun broke through the clouds. Trevor was lost in thought as he and Brad rode toward Lake Champlain. They had a full day’s ride until they arrived. He was thinking about Cory1 and Jerry2 and was feeling good about the Vision Quest thing they started. He reflected on what Brad had said before they left the last motel. These adventures weren’t helping him as much as he hoped.
Then… he thought… damn it, Brad, why did you ever order that limo? They approached a tight curve. He downshifted, leaned into the bend and, on the other side, shifted into high gear.
Stop it… why do these ideas pop into your head?
He knew it wasn’t Brad’s fault, but these thoughts haunted him whenever he least expected it. He knew he had to deal with this situation, but didn’t know how.
At the top of a hill, he noticed Lake Champlain in the distance. The blue waters were nestled between the green mountains and disappeared into the horizon.
He heard a horn beep and looked over at his brother. He was smiling and pointing toward the lake, giving a thumbs up. Trevor returned the gesture, then noticed a sign that indicated railroad tracks crossing the road diagonally ahead. He decreased his speed to line up the Harley and go across the tracks in a straight line.
Although Brad slowed, he didn’t follow the same approach and hit the tracks at the wrong angle. His bike slid out from under him, sending him into the ditch.
“Shit!” Trevor said aloud to no one in particular.
The bike lay in the ditch on its side with Brad just next to it. Trevor shut off his bike as Brad slowly stood. There was a hole in his jeans and a scratch on his helmet.
“Brad… are you okay?”
Shaking his leg, he walked over to Trevor with a slight limp. He removed his helmet and, with a sheepish grin, said, “Yeah, I was only going about twenty-five.”
“Brad. I told you about railroad tracks. You have to hit them at the proper angle. These Harleys aren’t like those bikes we used to ride, they’re much heavier.”
Brad sighed, “Yeah, I know.”
Trevor decided not to press the point with his older brother. After righting the bike, they knelt down and looked for damage. Other than a few scratches on the tan saddle bags, everything looked fine.
They both stood. “Well, you have your first battle scar. Let’s not have anymore. Please be careful.”
“Will do, little brother… will do.”
They continued their ride north along the shores of Lake Champlain. Trevor was thankful Brad’s accident was minor. In all honesty, Brad had never been the best motorcycle rider. When they were kids and got their first dirt bikes, Trevor could always pull wheelies much better. He knew exactly how to tweak the throttle as the front wheel started to come down just in time to pull it back up. He could even shift gears as he made his way down the dusty trail.
Brad, on the other hand, could pop the wheel off the ground, but inevitably it would thud back down. As hard as he tried, he could never maintain the wheelie. Brad was the older brother and when they were kids, this upset him. But, as they grew, this feeling faded and Brad was able to laugh at himself and his physical deficiencies.
Bradford and Trevor had different strengths. Brad was top of his class at law school and passed the bar the first time. Trevor became a SEAL and was highly admired in the Navy. Both brothers respected each other greatly and came to accept they each had distinct talents.
When Trevor first heard Brad’s idea of his Vision Quest, he was skeptical. Now that they had helped two families, he was thinking it may be a good idea. He just had to shake this feeling that the accident was Brad’s fault. Until now, he was never one to postpone things he knew he had to face. His SEAL training taught him to face difficult situations. But this was different. He decided to have a talk with Roosevelt as soon as he could manage a private conversation.
They rounded a gradual bend and rode up a steep incline. Moving into the passing lane to get around slower moving traffic, Trevor twisted the throttle, the bike accelerated with a growl.
His Sturgis was by far the best bike he ever owned. His old Honda was underpowered and bogged down going up even the slightest grade. The Harley seemed to have more power than was ever needed. Smiling, he gazed at the sparkling blue waters of the lake, he sure loved riding motorcycles.
Brad always teased him about wearing chaps. Besides looking cool, he wore them, so if he ever had to lay down his bike, he wouldn’t get all scuffed up. If Brad had followed his lead, he’d be in better shape than he was.
Just then, his bike sputtered and stopped running. He looked at his trip-odometer and nodded to himself; it was about time for a refill. He reached under the tank and turned the petcock to reserve3… the bike roared back to life. He beeped his horn to get Brad’s attention and made a pointing sign to his tank. Brad nodded and smiled. They had about fifteen miles before the bike completely ran out of gas, more than enough. After about five minutes, the brothers pulled into a Texaco station, pulled up to a pump and turned off their bikes.
The gas attendant walked up and grabbed the nozzle from the tank. “Nice bikes… Fill um up?”
“Thanks… and yes,” Brad said.
Trevor reached for the nozzle. “We’ll do it ourselves, please.”
The attendant smiled. “Sure thing.”
The total was $11.60 and Trevor handed the attendant a twenty.
“Thanks,” Brad said.
“No problem, you can buy lunch,” Trevor responded.
The gas station was also a burger joint. The brothers pressed the electric starter and after a short screech, the bikes roared to life. They rode across the parking lot, parked their bikes and entered the restaurant to get their burgers.
They found a table outside with a view of the lake. A large muscular guy was standing near their bikes. They set down their food and walked over to him.
Smiling, the man said, “These bikes yours?”
“Yes sir,” Trevor said.
“Nice rides. I noticed you’re from Pennsylvania, you’re a long way from home.”
“We’re on a cross-country trip. We stopped to gas up and eat lunch,” Bradford said.
The man whistled. “I’d love to do that… maybe someday,”
“We’re looking for a place to camp. Any recommendations?”
He beamed. “Gentleman this is your lucky day. I work at the Lakeside Campground. It’s just down the road on the right. I think I can even get you a site right on the lake.”
“Well, that sounds great.” Holding out his hand, “I’m Trevor and this is my brother, Brad.”
They shook hands. “Glad to meet you, I’m Bill, Bill Ides. I’m heading back now, eat your lunch and come on over. I’ll be at the front desk.”
“Thanks, we’ll see you in a bit,” Trevor said.
Bill turned and walked over to a partially rusted out blue and white Ford 150 with double rear wheels. This type of truck was known as a dually and was typically used to transport heavy loads or tow a large trailer. He got in and rode a way in a cloud of exhaust.
“Well, that thing has seen better days,” Brad said.
“You’re right about that big brother…let’s eat before our burgers get cold.”
They pulled into the Lakeside Campground and up to a log cabin style building with a neon sign labeled Office. Bill’s old rusted pickup truck was parked in a small lot next to a few other cars.
Running his hand over the rusted fender, Trevor asked, “What year is this POS?4”
Trevor prepared himself for a long, detailed answer. As long as he could remember, Brad knew about every make, model, and year of every car on the road.
“It’s a 1979 XLT dually. It was the top of the line truck in its day. He must tow something big to need a truck like that. He wouldn’t pay the extra cash for no reason.” He took a deep breath and continued. “The winters up here are tough, there’s salt on the roads from September to April. I’m surprised it’s not rusted out to the frame.”
Trevor shook his head and smiled. “Well, let’s go check in.”
A bell announced their arrival as they pushed open a wooden screen door. Bill was behind the counter and smiled when he saw them. In the far corner of the room, a teenager with long brown hair, a muscular physique, and a backwards baseball cap was busy unpacking boxes of supplies for the camp store.
Bill was thrilled to see them. “Welcome, I’m glad you made it… I wasn’t sure you would.”
“You’re kidding me,” Brad said. “Campsite on the lake. We wouldn't think of passing it up.”
Bill spoke with pride. “I set you up on site 22. I also put a load of logs in my truck. My son can follow you to the site if you wish and unload it.”
“Thanks Bill, we appreciate that,” said Trevor.
“No problem, the campsite is ten dollars, and the wood is two bucks.” He turned around and in a raised voice said, “Marc, can you come over here, please?”
Marc slowly walked over. “Yes, Dad.”
“This is Brad and Trevor. I put a load of wood in the truck. Can you take it down to Twenty-two, please?”
Marc looked at Trevor, then Brad. “Sure, follow me.”
There was no smile on Marc’s face. He wasn’t nasty or mean, just kind of indifferent. “Your site is just down that hill. You can follow me and then I’ll unload your wood.”
The site was nestled amongst tall pine trees. There was a picnic table and a fire pit made of large rocks. As Bill said, the lake was visible a few yards away.
Marc parked the truck, opened the tailgate, and began to unload the wood, placing the logs near the table.
“Let me help,” said Trevor.
Again, in an indifferent manner, “Okay.”
They silently unloaded the wood and stacked it neatly in a small pile. Trevor knew something must be going on.
“Thanks very much, young man,” Trevor said.
Marc closed the tailgate with a loud clank. “You’re welcome.”
He drove up the hill toward the office in a cloud of dust. At the top of the hill, a black Firebird pulled up next to the truck. If you had asked Brad what kind of Firebird it was, he would have said a 1977 Trans-Am with a W72 400 engine.
Two large guys got out and approached the truck. A very spirited conversation ensued, with raised voices and waving hands. Then, the guys got into the Trans-Am and screeched away.
“What the hell was that all about?” Brad asked.
“I have no idea,” Trevor responded. “Let’s setup camp.”
Thanks for reading the first part of Helping Marc. To read the second part of this episode click here.
For more information about Vision Quest click here.
Let me know what you think of the story so far.
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Motorcycles of this time had no gas gauge, instead the tank was divided into a main and reserve tank. The main tank held ninety-five percent of the gas, and the reserve held the rest. The motorcycle would be ridden until the main tank was depleted and the bike stopped running due to lack of fuel. Using a switch known as a petcock, the rider accessed the remaining fuel in the reserve tank.
Piece of Shit.
Nice shift from past to present here., Scott. Looking forward to seeing how you tie them together in the next episode! You have created two distinct characters and their connection is strong.
So easy to like your characters! Will be following the Quest.