Heat

“You got tired of the California girls?” Jack ribs me. He starts singing that old song, I think it’s the Beach Boys. “Girls, girls, girls…”

“What do you expect me to do, ignore all my admirers?” I joke.

But I know Jack ain’t serious. He’s never wanted what I have; he’s happy the way he is. Then again he’s never tasted it. I never wanted to ride either until I did it on a lark one day. Then it became my life. These animals, they’re huge. Powerful. And crazy. But there’s something in me that I know can control them. Because I am one of them.

And that’s what Canada will learn, if I have anything to say about it.