The End of the Rainbow (Hudson 4)

"I don't know," he said.

He went to it and stood it up, inspecting as much as he could. "It doesn't look like anything's broken."

He tried starting it and after a few attempts, it did start and seem to run okay.

"I could go get some help," he suggested.

"Oh no, Harley. Don't leave me here," I cried. "Ill get back on."

"You sure?"

"Yes, absolutely," I said. "Okay."

He helped me up. I stayed off my ankle and got back on the motorcycle.

"Maybe there's a hospital or something down here." he said.

"I'll be all right. Harley. I just need some ice and we'll get an Ace bandage to wrap it."

"Right. doc. I forgot you were an expert in first aid.."

We started out again, both of us very anxious about what lay ahead. Were those men in the pickup truck waiting for us on another side road or driveway to continue harassing us? That fear kept my attention away from the continuous thump, thump, thump rising out of my ankle and reverberating up my spine. I took deep breaths and held onto Harley. He drove a little faster as he became more confident; finally , we saw a garage on our left.

We pulled in. There was a soda machine, but no ice machine. Harley set the motorcycle so it would stand and told me to just sit tight while he went inside the garage. After a few minutes, he returned with a rag full of ice cubes.

"The guy had a refrigerator and gave me this when I told him what happened. He said he thinks he knows the idiots."

A man about forty or forty-five, stout, in a pair of gray coveralls stepped outside, wiping grease off his hands and looking our way.

Harley reached into his tool kit and came up with a roll of tape. He told me to hold the ice against my ankle while he taped around it and my leg until it remained there without my holding it.

"How's that?"

"Now who's the first aid doctor?" I asked, forcing a smile through my grimace of pain.

"It should keep the swelling down, right?"

"Right. I probably strained the tendons."

Harley went back to thank the garage mechanic and get some more information about the road ahead and our destination.

"He said we're only about an hour and ten minutes from Centerville, but I've got to get back on the main highway. We'll have to take our chances with the highway patrol."

"That's better than running into those idiots again. Harley."

"Right. Sorry." he said again.

"It wasn't your fault. You did geat," I told him.

After we started out, the ice began to make my whole leg freeze. I took it as long as I could and then I had to tell him to pull off so I could take off the packet.

"It's swollen pretty good," he said studying my ankle. "Maybe it is broken."

"Let's just get there. Harley," I said. "I'll be all right once I can rest."

He nodded, worried, and we continued. The last fifteen minutes or so seemed to take forever, but finally we saw the sign announcing the village and we pulled off the highway and headed for Main Street.

"Do you know where to look?"