"Free like the bluest sky
Free like mountain's eye
Free like... free like...free like...free like
Free like the brown in my eye
Free like the tears that I cry
Free like...free like...free like... free like
Free like a willow tree
Free like a summers eve
Free like the waves are crashing on the side of a solitary beach…"

Jill Scott – "Free (Epilogue)"

Erik handed a seventeen-thousand-dollar cashier's check to the salesclerk holding his I.D. and motorcycle license. The Kawasaki Ninja he wanted, the same as the one his mother used to have, with the same green and black coloring too, sat posted up outside the entrance of the motorcycle showroom.

Ownership papers handed over along with registration forms, the keys were dropped in his hand. The sales clerk had been a dick when Erik first came into the dealership looking to purchase a ride. He had to get permission from the manager before he could even do a test ride of the bike, even showing a picture of his mother on her bike with him when he was a child to let them know he was serious about buying. They gave him the grand total and Erik told them to have the bike polished and gassed up to go. Two hours later he was back and handing over full payment, but was annoyed when the bike wasn't ready. They assumed he wasn't coming back.

"Enjoy," the sales clerk said, and Erik rolled his eyes at him as he slung his backpack on and rolled out of the lot. His new helmet was nice on his head, and he felt free tooling down the I-10 and merging onto the 101. Transportation at last. He was too young to rent a car, and it was annoying having to use Lyft or Uber when he was ready to jet. His grandfather had called to verify his use of the money. Erik's parents had left him a small trust fund that he would receive in total when he was twenty-one. It was life-insurance money mainly, and he was allotted thirty-thousand when he turned eighteen with the rest pending. He was finally spending it on something other than clothes and computers.

His mother had him riding behind her the moment he was able to hang on to her waist, and his fondest memories were riding with her and Grandpop on the rare occasions they went out with his grandfather's bike club. Oaktown Rebels. Green and black were their colors.

The robust rumble under his thighs made him grin, and he sped up to pass a few cars as he made his way back to his apartment. He needed to grab a few things before he headed out to Joshua Tree.

Rolling into the apartment complex, he parked his new ride near Maria's leased car.

Walking into his unit, delicious smells wafted to him from the kitchen. He put his helmet on the coffee table and walked to where the tantalizing aromas came from.

"Look at you," Maria said.

He was surprised to see Valentina in his kitchen with Maria and also Giselle. All three women stared at him and his clothes.

"What happened to Erik Stevens intern? Who brought in Sons of Anarchy?" Maria said.

He touched his black leather biker jacket. The matching pants drew stares too.

"Just protective gear."

"For what?" Giselle asked. Her eyes looked suggestive. They were all a little tipsy. An empty wine bottle sat on the kitchen counter.

Valentina brushed past him to take a gander at the back of the ensemble he wore.

"That is some pricey gear, Stevens," she said.

"I bought a new bike…whatchu cookin'?"

His nose aimed for the stove.

Maria held tongs in her hand as she stood near a wok on the stove.

"Oh…shit….," she said pulling out fried egg rolls and placing them on paper towels on the kitchen counter.

"Lumpia. Chicken and pork…"

"What else?" he said, pulling open a lid on a skillet next to the lumpia still cooking.

"Pancit, chicken adobo, rice…"

Fuck.

He wanted to ride out to Joshua Tree asap, but the food looked banging and he was starving. This was better than the protein bars he was going to grab with his hydration pack.

"Join us," Maria said.

She pulled out plates from the cupboards and Giselle helped set their little kitchen table. Valentina opened another bottle of white wine. They all stared at him. He took off his riding jacket and carried it to his room. He packed up the gear he would take with him then washed his hands.

The women were already seated and grubbing when he returned.

Maria fixed him a full plate and he got down to business.

"So what is this? A hen party?" he said.

Giselle laughed and sipped on her wine.

"How did you guess?" she said.

Giselle had taken her braids out and Erik saw how big her hair was, lush puffy waves that cascaded to her shoulders, without her make-up and intern clothes, she looked like a teenager sitting next to him in her shorts and yoga top.

"We just needed to vent and trash the guys we work with," Valentina said nibbling on her lumpia.

"Well shit, maybe I shouldn't be here," he said.

"Stay, you might learn how to be a better man," Maria said.

"Erik is one of the good ones," Valentina said winking at him. Erik smiled, but then he caught Giselle looking at Valentina in a strange way. He stuffed pancit in his mouth and scooped up more of the noodles and cabbage on his fork. When Valentina's hand reached across and stroked his hand, Giselle really looked perturbed.

"Thank you so much for the pep talk the other day. I finished the beta on time and Janine spoke to me about working with Hollowell," Valentina said.

Erik nodded his head. Valentina's hand stayed on his wrist. She poured him a little bit of wine and he drank it so he could move his hand. He felt heat on his neck coming from Giselle staring and he couldn't figure out why she was giving off jealous vibes. Valentina was just the homie.

Maria must've caught the tension from Giselle.

"How's it going in your department?" Maria asked Giselle.

"Pretty good actually. I get to attend a conference with my project manager Evelyn. We leave in two weeks for Portland," Giselle said.

"So lucky! You get to travel. Wish we could go somewhere," Valentina said.

She picked at her plate and for a moment everyone was quiet as they ate.

"I have ube cake if anyone wants some," Maria said.

She jumped up and went to the fridge and brought back a purple cake. Once they all had their fill of food, Maria cut slices of the cake.

"Wow, it's purple on the inside too," Valentina said staring at it before she took a bite.

"It's a sponge cake, but a purple yam is mixed with it," Maria said.

"It's good! Light" Giselle said.

Erik snuck more wine and ate two pieces of cake.

"Let's go see your new bike!" Valentina said. Her fingers tapped Erik's hand again.

"C'mon," he said.

They all followed him downstairs.

"That is so cool!" Maria said.

Erik hopped on and started it up.

"That looks really expensive," Valentina said.

"Paid 17 G for it," he said.

"Can I get on?" Maria asked.

He helped her climb on and she took out her cell to snap pictures.

"Give us a ride around the parking lot," Valentina said stepping close to the handlebars.

"You need a helmet. I only have one," he said.

"It's just the parking lot. You don't have to go fast. We're in an enclosed place," she said.

"Me first!" Maria said clutching his waist.

He used his legs to roll back.

"Calm down, girl," he said.

Maria was giggling and wiggling behind him.

He zoomed around the lot and Maria squealed like a big kid on a rollercoaster for the first time. When he came back around and she jumped down, her face was flush from too much wine and laughing so hard. He thought she was so cute when she was buzzing.

"Me next," Valentina said.

She was taller and heavier than Maria. When she held his waist, he could feel her full breasts pressing into his back. Her chin rested on his shoulder.

"See ya!" she called to Maria and Giselle.

Unlike Maria, Valentina didn't giggle or look around, she rested her head against the back of his neck. When he brought her back, her hands dropped from his waist and rested on his thighs.

"That was fun," she said.

"Do you plan on getting off?" Giselle asked.

Valentina climbed off and Giselle hopped on. She was skittish with her hands.

"Hold tight," he said.

She relaxed and held him better. She looked around as they rode.

"This thing has some get up," she said.

"Yep. Top of the line."

He gave it a little more speed on the return so she could feel the power under them.

She took her time climbing off and Valentina was already trying to get a second excursion. He turned the bike off.

"This is so you," Valentina said.

"More cake anyone?" Maria suggested.

"I'll have more!" Valentina followed Maria back to the kitchen.

Giselle stayed behind as Erik dismounted.

"What's up with you and Valentina?"

"Nothing," he said.

"That's not what I'm hearing at the office."

"Whatchu hearing then?"

"Lunch together every day. Working late and driving home together. Acting like more than besties in public."

He shrugged.

"I eat lunch with Maria most of the time too. I don't have a car and it sucks catching the bus or a Lyft every day. She's friendly to everyone in public. Who are you hearing gossip from?"

"Maria."

"You already know she's a talker—"
"Not just her. Other people have been talking. A lot of the guys who want to hem Valentina up."

"Why do you care? You told me you wanted to stay professional. Acting like you in your feelings or something."

"I didn't say I cared like that."

"What if I was hittin' that?"

"I don't see it."

"Why not?"

"That's not you."

"Fuck you talkin' 'bout girl?" He leaned against his bike.

"Most Cali niggas I've met are prone to the white girl hierarchy. It's ingrained. Everywhere you look, white women are propped up. It is what it is. But you…you not that brotha. But Valentina, she wants to break you in."

"You jealous or somethin'?"

"Observant."

"You don't think I could get down with a white girl?"

"No."

"So you should be happy then."

"Why?"

"Most sistahs hate brothas with white women—"
"Not true. We don't care. We just get annoyed with Black men who date or marry white or non-Black women exclusively and then proceed to trash us every opportunity they get. There's a difference."

"What's the point to this?"

"Curiosity."

"I don't think so."

"I date the rainbow myself. Keep my options open. Black men will always be my first pick…but…you…you remind me of my grandfather. Y'now, Black people first, but probably have some colorism issues mixed in there—"

"Nah, I date the Black rainbow—"

"—and I wonder why you hold tight to that. Have you ever been with anyone non-Black?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why is this a conversation?"

"Don't deflect."

Erik stared at her. He couldn't understand why she cared so much about his choices.

"I have a preference for Black women. Other women are fine as fuck too and alla that, but for me…there's something about Black women that I just zoom into. I've been with mixed Black women…I just…it just be that way, Ma. There's a cultural understanding about shit that Black women get. I don't have to waste time or energy explaining shit-"

"Like?"

"Racism. Colorism. White supremacy. American fuckery. The struggle—"

"Of course. The never-ending struggle."

Giselle's voice sounded dismissive. He didn't like that.

"What if you met that one woman that was not Black and she had some cultural understanding and she was into you—"

"Hasn't happened yet—"

"Valentina-"

"Nah—"

"It's a fact. I heard her talking to some women in the break room. She really wants to make something happen. You can't see that?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Be careful."

"You blockin?"

"For who?"

"You. You not low, Giselle. You still feelin' me even though you want to be all professional. I saw you looking salty at dinner."

"I don't care if you get with her."

"Yeah, you do."

Giselle turned away from him and Erik grabbed for her hand.

"Hold up, finish," he said.

"Cake?" Maria called out.

Erik saw her on the top step of their apartment with a plate in her hand.

"Be up in a minute," Erik shouted.

His eyes took in Giselle's. She was serious.

"Why should I be careful?"

"Valentina comes off cool, but she's manipulative. I wasn't planning on coming here tonight, but Maria wanted me to, and when I heard Valentina was coming—"

"You wanted to throw a flag on her play," he teased.

Giselle's eyes didn't waver.

"If I wanted you that bad, I could take you."

"Look at you saying that with your whole chest."

Erik held onto her hand.

"All I'm saying is be mindful of how she acts around you and other people. I thought she was cool until I noticed some behavior that made me see that she's a user. She's into social capital and manipulation. You are Stark's golden boy and she wants to be the golden girl—"
"She's good at what she does—"

"Getting next to people who she can climb above."

"I don't see it, but I hear you."

"Do more than hear me. Men can be so stupid when they ignore signs."

"We're all here to climb over each other. Trying to outshine the next person to claim a spot."

"That ain't you either."

"You think you know me that well."

"You're an easy read."

"Maybe I'm manipulating you."

"No. I don't think you'd do anything like that. You're too blunt. Too real."

"I'm not interested in her or anyone else here. Just you. I would let you use me."

She smiled and he thought he had an in with her.

"Lemme take you out."

"No, I told you—"

"One date."

"No."

"You're killing me, G."

Giselle headed up to his apartment.

"You'll live, Erik."

It felt mad awkward returning to the apartment. He overanalyzed every interaction with Valentina. She was just…Valentina…relaxed when she was drinking, astute, aware of shit around her with a basic understanding of her own privilege in the world. Maria liked her and Maria had a good heart.

But Giselle was pretty astute too, and Erik had to concede that he often stayed in his own head a lot over the years and tended to ignore things that didn't concern him. Especially working in the Stark offices. He did his work and bounced, took careful notes in his journal, and kept to himself on the weekends unless Maria cajoled him into going to a movie. He was not interested in Valentina like that. She was gorgeous with that Greco/Roman Mediterranean vibe, sexy without trying, aware of it, but not lording it over other women. He racked his brain trying to think of any encounter where Valentina had ever—

"Hey, you okay?"

Erik snapped out of his reverie. He stood in the kitchen eating the last of the lumpia. Maria watched him with inquisitive eyes. He could hear Giselle and Valentina talking loud as they watched TV.

"Coolio," he said.

"You and Giselle looked like you were in a serious convo."

"Nothing too serious. She still won't go out with me."

"Maybe you should find someone else."

"Like who?"

Erik waited to see what she would say. Maria's eyes glanced down at his plate.

"I dunno, maybe…"

"Valentina?"

"Giselle snitched on me, huh? I shouldn't have said anything."

"Be honest. She checkin'?"

"Yes. This won't make it weird for you, will it?"

"Already done."

"Sorry. I know you want Giselle, but…"

"But?"

"You have a sure thing out in our living room."

"Not happening."

"Why?"

Erik popped the last piece of lumpia in his mouth and washed his hands in the sink.

"I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

"Personal business."

He went into his room and slipped on his jacket. His hydration pack was filled and he had snack bars for the ride back.

"I'm out," he said.

Both Giselle and Valentina stared at him.

"We were thinking of going out to The Grove," Valentina said.

"Next time," he said.

He left quickly and felt like he could breathe once he was back on the I-10 heading East. Traffic was cumbersome, but once he got past Ontario, the flow of cars was less stop and go. He made a quick bathroom break at a truck rest stop, and by the time he made it to Palm Springs, he saw the rows of wind turbines peppering the sides of the freeway. He knew he was close to his destination. The hundreds of turbines looked like white giants standing guard for some long-forgotten ancient battle.

The hill he rode up to get into Joshua Tree itself was peaceful in the darkness, and he found a cheap motel to stay in. It was better to search early in the morning rather than late at night in case he ran into any cops. Weren't too many Black people out in the desert, and meth-heads along with opioid users ran amuck, so Erik didn't want to look like a dealer doing a night drop or pick-up.

The motel was clean and he set his cell alarm for early morning.

###

The heat would not arrive hardcore until later, and Erik moved quickly with the high-end GPS compass he bought for the job. This part of the desert had vortices that were fucking with the dials of the indicators.

Yucca plants and small cactus surrounded him as well as the yucca species known as the Joshua Tree for its unusual shape that Mormons long ago said looked like praying hands lifted to the sky. They seemed to thrive in arid places like this. Erik walked around with the small shovel he picked up from the Home Depot.

Sipping water from his hydration pack, he took off his jacket and laid it across his bike. There was no one near him for miles. He didn't have to worry about anyone stealing his shit. He set off in the direction the coordinates gave him. He wished there was a picture map sketch or mentions of signposts to look for, rock formations or a particular line up of cactus, anything to help pinpoint whatever he was looking for.

He found what he thought was the spot and dug for thirty minutes and found nothing. He moved to two other spots near his first dig site and found nothing still. Maybe it had been dug up a long time ago. Instead of getting frustrated, he let thoughts of his father guide him. If Baba wrote this down, it was important. He would stay as long as he could in his search.

When the sun rose high, he took off his shirt and tied it around his head, keeping his shades on as he continued digging. By the time it was near noon, his water was all gone, and he was hungry for more than the protein bars he had. Whatever his father placed here was long gone. He mentally prepared to plan a trip to the central corridor and Klamath where the other buried sites were.

A rabbit caught his eye and Erik walked towards it just to have a break from bending over and allowing him to stretch his back out.

"Shit!" his hissed grabbing onto his lips.

An intense itching overtook his bottom lip and Erik shoved his middle and index finger onto his gums there.

His tattoo.

Something was making his tattoo react in an adverse way.

He stepped back to where he was before he saw the desert rabbit and the itching faded away. He traced his footsteps around the area where the tattoo reacted. The space around it was less than a foot around.

Erik stepped forward again. The itching started again but was less pronounced. He could endure the sensation.

He started digging.

Three feet in he found a small gray silky bag the size of an apple. He picked it up and climbed out of the hole.

His eyes darted about and he walked back to his bike.

Opening the bag carefully, he found another cloth brown bag within. His tattoo flared up with prickly nerves. His hand slipped into the brown bag and he pulled out…

….a small chunk of neon blue metal that glowed with an intensity that made his hand light up. His tattoo was made from this, he was sure of it, his body reacting to the similar elements found within the metal.

Erik covered the metal back up quickly and stuffed it inside the pocket of his jacket and zipped it up. He debated covering the holes he had made back up, but he decided against it. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Pulling his shirt from his head, he put himself back together. Under the bright summer blue sky and surrounded by desert sands that led to mountains, Erik felt a freedom he hadn't felt in a long time. His quest felt tangible now. He had something his father died for in his possession. Erik shook his head, feeling a lone tear fall from his face. This felt like a true beginning. He had a talisman in his possession that would guide him to his future victory.

He rode to the nearest gas station. After filling up his tank, he bought fresh water for his pack and made his way out of town.

This metal, this hidden treasure that his father buried far away from Oakland…Erik recognized it.

Even knew the name of it.

His father had taught him the word.

Vibranium.