Figh
VOLIACE
By Mark Gonzales
DAKSER
R
icky's eyes didn't open for quite
some time until after he was born. His
small red face made his mother nervous.
It was her first time giving birth. Ricky's dad
Roger had two other kids, girls, from his previ-
ous marriage, so he told his young nervous wife
not to worry. The worrying would not be good
for his first born son.
"You want my son to be a sissy? His eyes will
open and when they do, his gaze will send his
enemies trembling with fear."
Rose, his wife, hated macho talk, and imagined
that someday if her sweet little boy's eyes did
open, they'd be blue. His skin would be fair, his
hair color would be black. Rose would some-
times spend all evening dreaming about her little
Ricky someday being a bolt-'em-down billionaire
if only his eyes would open. The doctor, Dr.
Dunsbury, told Rose soon they would.
Ricky's eyes opened and it was the strangest
thing. His eyes had no color-no retina, no outer
iris, no resemblance to any other person's eyes.
This frightened Rose, and she prayed and went
to church daily. For eyes, poor Ricky only had
two black specks. They were his pupils. His
vision was fine, but the sight of his eyes spooked
most people. The eye doctors ran several tests.
and told Ricky's parents that physically there
was nothing wrong with their son's eyesight. He
was 20/20 vision, perhaps a bit better. The doc-
tors explained how Ricky's eyes were rare; only
one other person was born with eyes like that.
"I did a case study and a woman who lived in
England from 1888 to 1894 had eyes the same.
If his are the same as hers, when he gets older
he should be able to judge depth and width in
DEZA
an instant. His eyes will be like a tool that
no one has quite learned to understand or
properly use."
Rose was horrified. Luckily Ricky from a young
age was well supplied with contact lenses. Of
course the eye doctors and eye experts kept
close watch; every other week Ricky and his
mother would ride the bus clear across town to
visit the eye doctors.
After Ricky turned nine he got his first bicycle.
Even though he wanted a motorcycle, he still
was happy. His favorite thing to do was to find
big hills and then speed down them. After a few
big falls, Ricky's mother took his bike away. A
year passed, and then another year, until he just
gave up and listened to every single thing they
told him. It was almost like his spirit died, but it
didn't really die. It was just resting.
When he went to
school it was his job to
go on his own visit the eye doctors. The bus
ride was tiring. Ricky always gave up his seat to
handicappeds and senior citizens. One time
while waiting for the bus, he saw these three kids
that looked rough. Not only did they look rough,
but they also behaved rough.
After a few rides on the same bus they got
wise to his route, so one day just before the bus
came to a complete stop, the skinny one said,
"Hey, cornbread." Ricky looked around and then
knew they meant him.
"Yeah? What?" Ricky said.
"You got fitty cents for the bus?" the skinny
one asked.
Ricky said, "I've got a bus pass. I don't need
fifty cents."
"You do if you wanna get past us." Now it was
the bigger one talking.
Ricky paid. What the hell, it was only
fifty cents. Now every time Ricky
went to the eye doctor he made
sure he had the two quar-
ters. Once he didn't have
the fifty cents so he said,
野
HICH VELTAGE
"I'm gonna wait for the next bus."
Then, the three said "Well, we'll wait with you."
"No," Ricky said. "It's not that I don't
want to pay you. I just don't have the fifty
cents, OK?"
"Today that's OK but starting next time it's a
dollar. From then on you pay us a dollar."
Ricky felt like shit. Here just 'cause these
three were tough they were gonna take his
money, and that was supposed to be
cool. Ricky, sad and ashamed, did not
ride the bus to the doctor's that day.
He just stood there and watched
the three boys get on.
"Ain't you gonna get on?"
they screamed from the
window. "You can pay us
next time.
Ricky watched the
bus drive off. He
wanted to give them
the middle finger
go
but he knew if he
did they might rip
his finger off, so he
just watched the bust
up the steep hill. He
noticed the electrical
cables above the bus; it
amazed him that the bus ran
off of electricity. Right then it
hit him. He wondered how many
volts went through those cables.
Jesus, he thought to himself, those
cables go all over this city. On Ricky's
walk home, he thought, I gotta talk to my
dad. If I can get him to convince my mom to
let me have my bicycle back, maybe I can rig a
motor that runs off electricity. All along his walk
home, he moved happyand optimistic.
When he got home his dad was drunk,
throwing rubber darts at the TV screen. Ricky
didn't know what to make of it. He moved
past the living room and into the kitchen. On
the fridge Ricky's mom had left a note that
said, "Ricky, sorry I was unable to tell you
before school that today's appointment with
the eye doctor was cancelled. I didn't find out
until after you left. I won't be home till late.
Please make you and your father dinner.
Love, Mom."
Ricky looked at the note and read it twice
completely through. Love, Mom.
"Hey, you son of a bitch!"
Ricky hated it when his dad was drunk. He
walked slowly through the house hoping his
dad wouldn't take much notice of him being
home. Once in his bedroom, Ricky sat at his
desk, studied, and drew sketches of his bike
with a long rod that went up the back near the
rear wheel. He drew several different drawings.
Some looked better than others.
They were just premature ideas of how
his electrical bike would work. First he
thought, What motor would work best? Maybe
from a washing machine. No. He didn't think it
would have enough power. After all, the hills
where Ricky lived were rather steep. You ever
been to San Francisco?
"Ricky?" a loud voice called. It was his father.
"Yeah, Dad," Ricky screamed back.
"You hungry?"
Ricky closed his sketch book with technical
notes and walked into the living room. "Yeah,
I'm hungry. It's only six o'clock, though," Ricky
said, trying to act like he didn't notice his dad
was drunk. "Mom left the note on the fridge
that I should make dinner."
Ricky's dad looked deeply at his son. "What?
What note? Why do you have to be such a
mama's boy?"
Ricky, pissed at having to pay the kids to ride
the bus and now hearing his own dad call him a
mama's boy, said, "Fuck you, Papa Smurfette."
Ricky's dad laughed and asked, "What did
you call me, you little foul-mouthed punk?"
"I said, let's go out to get something to eat."
Ricky's dad grabbed his jacket and car keys.
"You're gonna have to drive, son. I'm drunk."
Ricky had never driven. He was nervous.
"I'll meet you at the garage, Dad." Ricky ran
quickly to his room. He got his notebook. He
figured he could talk to his dad about his
electrical bike at dinner.
Bwoop bwoop bwoop. Ricky was at the
garage. He got into the car on the driver's side.
His dad explained, "The 'R' is for reverse. The
'D' is for drive. It's a good thing someone came
up with the automatic, because that's all I'm
telling you besides making sure you take off
the emergency brake and use your blinkers."
Ricky started the car up and put it in reverse
as he was backing out of the garage. He made
sure not to hit any of his father's tools. He saw
his bike chained and locked. His dad did too.
"This ain't like your bike. You crash in
this car, you don't just lose skin. We might
lose our house. Tons of motorists are
completely sue-crazy."
Ricky turned out from their driveway onto the
street. He was being cautious.
"You drive OK," Ricky's dad said in a
superior tone. "Just don't tell your mom or
we both will be bus-bound from then until
who knows when."
Once at the restaurant, Ricky and his dad
ordered. The food took a long time to be made.
Ricky showed his dad his ideas about his bike
that ran off the bus wires. While looking at the
drawings, his dad sipped his margarita.
"Mmm," his dad said. "The salt on the rim's
good. Here, son, taste it."
"No thanks, Dad. I'm straight-edge."
"You're what?"
Ricky smiled. He wasn't straight-edge. He just
didn't like drinking booze. Besides, he wasn't
old enough.
"I don't know, Ricky. Those buses run off at
lot of voltage. I'm not sure it would be worth
fussing with. You might get yourself killed.
That's an electrical shock I'll pass on." Ricky's
dad handed him his sketch book back. Ricky's
dad was honest.
Ricky just about figured he'd give up, but then
his dad said, "If you could find something that
could convert the voltage or something that
could store the voltage, and then put it out at a
different level, it might work."
Ricky smiled. "What kind of motor do you
think would be good?"
Ricky's dad said, "Probably one of them
small electrical weed whackers. First you gotta
know the voltage."
The food landed. Ricky's dad had ordered
steak picado. Ricky had ordered taquitos with
rice and beans and enchilada sauce on the side.
"More Sprite?" the waitress asked Ricky
seductively.
He was smiling. "Yes, please. I guess I'll take
a little sip, Dad."
When Ricky went to grab for his dad's mar-
garita, his dad jerked it away. "Just wanted to
test you. You can't drink, Ricky."
Ricky looked dumbfounded. "Why not?"
"You're driving."
Ricky felt busted.
"Now I'm gonna have to drive home. You
failed my test."
Ricky kept eating and thought to himself. His
dad's little test was a dumb test.
Since Ricky couldn't be trusted with a car, he
got his bike back. The small motor fit onto the
front. It had to be there to weigh the bike down
going up the steep hills. The bike was pretty
heavy with the motor plus the electrical con-
verter. The converter cost five hundred dollars.
Ricky thought it was worth it though. At least
he wouldn't have to deal with the three hoods
who kept strong-arming his loose change.
The bike went over 40 mph-15 mph up hills.
Ricky loved it 'cause it didn't need gas and the
electricity was free. There weren't any signs
saying "electricity for bus use only." Still, get-
ting caught riding his bike scared Ricky, so at
first he only drove it from 3:00 in the morning
till 4:45. Those were the safest hours, he fig-
ured. Then when he was completely comfort-
able, he used it to go see the eye doctor. First
he'd go home and then he'd get his bike and go
off to the eye doctor. After a few trips, things.
seemed cool. Every now and then someone
would point and say, "Check that out." But
mostly people were too busy worrying about
their own method of transportation or their
own concerns.
"Over here!" One of the kids who
would take money from him screamed.
The three hoods saw his bike. "Hey!" the
three boys screamed as they chased
Ricky up a hill. Ricky had the bike going
as fast as it could, but they were catching
him easily. Before Ricky got to the top
they surrounded him.
"What kinda bike is that?"
Ricky said, "It's a beach cruiser, but I con-
verted it so it can run off the bus wires."
"Cool," the big fat one said. The skinny one's
face was all squished up. He was looking at the
long rod that went from the electrical trans-
former to the wires above.
The medium-size hoodlum said, "Step off.
Here's where I take over."
Ricky said, "No."
The kid punched Ricky in the face. Ricky sat
there and took it. The biggest kid pushed the
medium-size kid and said, "Don't be so cold.
You see this bike? He worked hard to make it.
Don't take it."
The medium-size kid spat on his big
friend and then pushed Ricky off his bike.
Ricky was on the floor. His face was
twisted; he scrambled to get up. The
skinny kid held him down. The medium-
size kid rode off on Ricky's bike. He had
the throttle peaked back. Too much energy
at once caused the motor to shut down.
From the top of the hill, Ricky and the big
kid could see them, the medium-size kid
and the skinny one chasing after him. The
big kid apologized to Ricky. Ricky just
kept watching. Once the bike rolled to a
stop, the kid who took off put his hand up
by the motor and tried to touch whatever
he could so the bike would work again.
But it didn't. Finally the skinny kid got up
to where the bike was broken down. They
both simultaneously touched the wires in
the back where all the voltage was, even
though Ricky had put a skull and cross-
bones to signify danger. It even said "high
voltage." The boys were not cautioned and
were electrocuted.
Ricky and the big kid at the top of the hill
were sure the two were electrocuted by the
way they both froze for a second and then fell
to the floor.
"I guess we won't have to worry about those.
two taking something that doesn't belong to
them," Ricky said. The big kid looked at Ricky.
Although they were his friends, he shook his
head in agreement.
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