"What the hell is that?" Henry growled, glaring at the contraption sitting in his driveway, blocking his truck in.
"Isn't it great, Dad?" Shawn beamed, lovingly running his fingers over the handlebars of his brand new motorcycle.
Henry stared in horror at the death machine as his son climbed on, settling onto the seat as if he'd been riding his entire life.
"I think I'll call her Marla…" Shawn continued happily as he gripped the handlebars as if he were already doing ninety down the freeway, pointedly ignoring his father's growing disgust. "…Or maybe it's more of a Frank …can a motorcycle be a dude?"
"I'm not buying you a motorcycle, Shawn!" Henry informed him, scowling as he circled the beast like a knight searching for the weak point in his foe's armor.
"You don't have to!" Shawn told him, pulling a folded sheet of paper out of the pocket of his leather jacket and handing it triumphantly to his father. "I saved all my Weinermobile money all summer. It's a done deal, Dad. I own it."
Henry looked down at the bill of sale, scrutinizing every dotted-T and crossed-I.
Damn it, it looked perfectly legal.
He sighed and handed it back to Shawn, still scowling at the bike. "Well, you're not riding that damn thing without a motorcycle license!" he told him next, quickly running down his mental list of all the reasons Shawn couldn't own a motorcycle.
"Oh, really?" Shawn snorted, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out his wallet. He opened it and tossed it to his father.
There, staring up at him from the little plastic sleeve in the front was a brand new California Operator's license, Class B.
Motorcycles.
Shawn's smug, plastic grin quickly vanished when Henry slammed the wallet shut over it and threw it back at his son.
"When did you take the test?" he demanded, glaring at Shawn.
"Last week," Shawn shrugged. "My Driver's Ed teacher teaches motorcycle classes on the weekends. He let me use his."
Henry sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he saw his perfectly logical list of reasons going up in smoke.
"Insurance!" he snapped a moment later, the light finally coming on as he grasped at his last, fleeting straw.
No way in hell Shawn had thought that far ahead!
Not the kid who forgot his lunch money every single day in fourth grade.
Shawn just laughed. "Bam!" he exclaimed, whipping yet another sheet of paper out of his back pocket and thrusting into his father's face. "I paid my first premium two hours ago. I'm covered for six months!" Shawn grinned, crossing his arms victoriously.
Henry stared down at the form, a cold sweat starting break out across the back of his neck as he realized that this time he couldn't do it.
This time, he couldn't stop his son from killing himself.
"Shawn--" he started again, a desperate edge creeping into his tone. But Shawn just waved him off breezily.
As if nothing he said even mattered.
He was determined…and there was nothing Henry could do to stop him this time.
"And I have a helmet, Dad." Shawn rolled his eyes, anticipating his father's next objection.
He picked the helmet up off the ground and plopped in onto his head, lifting the visor. "Face it, Dad. There's absolutely no good reason I can't own a motorcycle!"
"Yes, there is, Shawn!" Henry snapped.
"What is it?" Shawn demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"You'll break your damn neck!"
"I'm not going to break my neck!" Shawn shot back, starting the bike up. "And it's my damn neck to break, anyway!" he shouted over the noise, revving the engine even louder now.
"Shawn!" Henry shouted back, straining to be heard.
"What?"
Henry hesitated, meeting his son's eyes through the thick helmet.
"What?" Shawn shouted again when his father didn't answer the first time.
"I'm not paying for your damn gas!" Henry growled finally, his eyes narrowing to match his son's glare.
"It's like ten bucks to fill the tank!" Shawn shouted back, flipping the visor shut and pealing out of the driveway, leaving his father in a cloud of dust as he pulled onto the road and disappeared around the corner.
For a full five minutes, Henry didn't move. He stared intently down the street, waiting for Shawn to turn around and come back.
Waiting for the phone to ring…
For the ambulance sirens to come screaming down the street…
Finally, he turned around and slowly headed back into the house.
"You'll break your damn neck."