Chapter 6

Operations

Almost immediately did Iori regret her decision. Before, during that episode in front of the casino, Jordan turned away and headed to the parking garage. Originally she thought he was heading towards his car, and after eating dinner and going in the very the same direction, she still believed as before. Hardly could it be further from the truth.

"A," the words could barely whimper out of her mouth, "bike?"

"Yeah," the man said over-excitedly. "Isn't it sweet?"

Perhaps a motorcycle would be "sweet," but this was a bicycle. Two wheels and a pedal. There was no ignition, no motor, and most importantly, no place for two people to sit.

"Don't worry about it, I've got it all figured out. You can go ahead and sit there and I'll just stand while I peddle," was how he explained the logistics of the operation.

There were many flawed parts to his plan. Most of which was that Iori was wearing a dress. Unless she sat side-saddle she'd have to hike her skirt all the way to her hip, exposing far more then her legs she'd ever want to under any situation.

"I wouldn't do that," Jordan tried explaining to her. "It's pretty dangerous, for starters. With all those cars that are going to be passing us, it's not a good idea to be sicking your legs out like that. Also you won't be able to get a good hold of me in that position."

So many issues about his comments disturbed Iori. She didn't know where to start.

"Can we just call a cab?" she was nearly pleading.

"Haven't you had enough problems with cabs today? And what money are we going to use to pay for that?" The answer was obviously his money, which has substantially dwindled after buying her dinner. "Besides, if I leave my bike like this, the casino's likely to cut the chain and impound it. No, we're sticking together and we're taking my bike. That or we can walk all the way back to my apartment. If your up for staying awake another couple of hours, then that's fine with me."

Now that she'd eaten and relaxed a bunch, Iori's fatigue was creeping up on her in a hurry. For many years had she outgrown being so sleepy that she needed to be carried home, but with her current condition and situation she nearly believed an embarrassing relapse could occur. Never would she let that happen, intentionally or otherwise.

There wasn't much debate to be had, only could she accept his proposal and hope for the best. Bunching up her long skirt and tying it into a knot on the side, Iori granted her legs the freedom to be able to mount a bicycle. Perhaps more embarrassing then exposing her fleshy white thighs was the wrinkles that she was creating on her skirt. After all, this was all she had to wear. Until she was once again reunited with her band-mates she'd have to suffer messy attire.

"Ugw," she groaned some inaudible sound once looking at the bicycle seat.

"What's wrong?" Jordan started to ask as he stood ready to pedal. Then he saw it, "Oh," and tried to contain his laughter, but failed. His laugh was deep and powerful, echoing in the night air so everyone all the way out into the street could probably hear him.

Iori wasn't tall enough to reach the seat on her own.

"Sorry, I didn't think about that. I guess I'm kinda a big guy."

Big guy her butt. Jordan was huge; well over 180 cm. Of course if he was that big, so would his bike. Plenty had the seat been raised already, but even if it hadn't Iori doubted she could still reach the seat and the pedals at the same time. In fact, if planted on it's hind wheel and stood erect, that bike might be taller then her altogether. This was a very discouraging day for Iori.

Jordan extended his arm for the girl to climb up. Taking his gesture, Iori soon realized there was no spot for her to place her foot. Realizing too late, she was surprised when he lifted her by that single hand alone and planted her on the seat. She was embarrassed that she cried a little shriek.

"You alright back there?"

"Wait," she was not alright. "Your backpacks in the way."

Left the way that she was, Iori would be leaning back slightly the entire trip. This would do a number on her spine. While she might have to suffer the indignity of riding this bike, she would not be inappropriately discomforted while doing so.

"Right," addressing her concern, "I hoped I wouldn't have to do this, but could you wear my backpack while we're ridding?"

Figuring as much beforehand, "Yes."

Slipping it over his shoulder he proceeded to hand her the item. As she took hold of the backpack she nearly fell off the bike. It was heavy!

"What do you have in here!"

Jordan laughs. "Everyone says the same thing. Are you ready?"

After properly suiting herself with the bag and buckling all the straps so it's rooted firmly in place, Iori grabs his sides and says, "Okay."

"Alright!" he shouts over-exuberantly. "Here we go!"

He said it before, and perhaps she only half believed him, but Jordan kicked the bike into motion and immediately headed into the street.

Into the street.

Into traffic.

"Aieeyeee!" Iori screamed.

"Ha ha! You better hang on!"

The pair ducked and weaved through the cars, making it to the far left lane as quickly as possible. Not terribly far ahead were cars parked waiting for the left hand turn light to change to green. They were immediately behind a cab.

When pulling to a stop, "What were you thinking!"

"I told you to hang on! Each one of these cars is two tons of death on wheels! Disrespect these drivers and you'll earn a quick trip to the hospital!" The light turned green. "Here we go!"

All coming from the man not wearing a helmet. Suspecting greatly, Iori imagined that Jordan was having fun, that he enjoyed being this close to vehicles dashing passed him on all sides.

As the cab ahead of them moved, Jordan too stomped on the pedal. In no time he was at a pace that matched the turning car. Under a certain speed he was an equal to a car, but as the cab accelerated it began to pull away. As they flowed with all the traffic making a left turn, the pair pulled as far to the right as possible. Iori spotted a large carbine rifle graphic printed on the placard atop the cab. It was advertising a gun range.

Directly to their right was a casino modeled after the city of New York, with it's own version of the Statue of Liberty. There were many cars pulling in ahead of them and into the driveway. She would have expected the entrance to be on The Strip, but the front of the casino/hotel was here on this side street. Must have been decided upon due to ease of access, as the traffic was already tight as it was. Iori had been to the city of New York plenty of the times in the past, so she wondered how the casino might look from the inside. Did they go for accuracy, or the romantic novelization that the Big Apple regularly received in books and movies?

"Hang on!" Jordan suddenly shouted.

Iori had become distracted while looking at all the pretty sites, that she nearly forgot that she was hanging on to a man while they were combating traffic on a measly bicycle. Had he noticed this, or did he feel her grip slipping? Either way, he was right. Iori redoubled her efforts to hold onto his side.

That was, at least, until she noticed what was directly ahead. A freeway overpass. The road ascended as it bridged over the freeway, and what comes up most go down. Still a little way ahead was a green light and flowing traffic. Jordan rapidly began upping the gears and peddling harder. He was aiming to beat the light. A couple meters before they reached the signal it turned yellow. They weren't yielding.

"Hey! Wait!" Iori's shouts landed on deaf ears.

It turned red moments before they before they crossed the lines, but they still didn't waver. No longer caring for appearances, Iori quit merely holding Jordan by the sides and instead hugged onto him very tightly, screaming and crying the entire time. At that moment there wasn't a single car in the intersection. Nobody but them had dared to run the red light, nor had oncoming traffic jumped the gun and crossed early. Perhaps this was the safest they'd been thus far in their journey.

They reached the top of pass, and sure enough, they started to descend.

There was another light immediately ahead, but it turned green only a moment ago. Of course Iori couldn't see ahead of her at all, since her cheeks were held tight to the man's back, but Jordan saw this very well. Using the mechanism on the right handlebar, he clicked the bike into top gear. Iori started to scream again as they reached speed seemingly impossible under normal human power. They were at such a velocity that Iori feared the bike would simply fall apart. Although, at that moment Iori feared many things. The wind cracked at their sides like whips, and both Iori and Jordan's long hair flickered behind them.

Something other then absolute panic and fear assaulted Iori's senses as they reached the bottom of the pass, the smell of good old-fashioned American Fast Food. Directly to their right was a burger joint with a line of car for the drive-through almost extending to the street. The parking lot was packed and there was customers spilling out to the outdoor seating. This must have been a very popular place as the wait seemed to be excruciating, and Americans notoriously hated to wait. But in nearly a blink of an eye, the restaurant was already behind them.

This speed couldn't continue forever, for no longer where they traveling down hill. Without the aid of gravity, the tires spun only so fast under human power. As the feel of danger seemed to dissipate with their loss of speed, Iori realized that Jordan had a very hard and muscular back. Then she realized how embarrassed she was and rapidly pushed herself away, though still remembering she was atop a moving vehicle.

"Something wrong back there!"

"No! Nothing!"

Iori thought, Of course he wouldn't be embarrassed by this. After all, this was the difference between adults and children. A bad habit of hers was overreacting when the situation takes a twist she doesn't expect. More then a time or two had she embarrassed herself in front of her producer and the other idols, and her attempts to cover it up only deepened the depths of which she was drowning. At least Jordan didn't seem the type to egg her on, very much unlike her own partner Ami.

They passed an adult superstore. Then another. After turning a corner they found a strip club.

"Where are you taking me!" she screamed.

"What?" he asks as they're stopped at a red light. "To my apartment. It's only a little further ahead."

"You live in this kind of neighborhood!"

"Yeah it's great, isn't it? You got the Orleans right over there, and the Palms right in my backyard."

"Not that! This!" and she point at the building with the large banners of "ladies" painted on the side.

"Oh. Ha ha ha! Yeah, I guess so. Some times I forget I live down the street from a place like this. This is Vegas! You kind of get used to these kinds of things. There's a school right over there." He points, and sure enough, there's an armada of school buses parked in a large fenced off lot. "I've lived here a few years now and I've never been inside. Want to take a look?"

"No!"

"Ha ha! Yeah, I guess not." The light had been green a while now, but since turning down this street, traffic had dwindled to nothing. "It's not much longer now, so it'll be a smooth ride. Just hold your breath when we get to the aqueduct, it stinks to high heaven."

. . .

Not even five minutes passed before they pulled into the lot of an apartment complex. They were directly in the shadow (and even at night, these vast hotels cast shadows) of a casino, and here were families living their lives. Peaceful or not was a different story. Here so did Jordan live, tucked away in a small corner that somehow seemed secluded even when surrounded by monstrosities. After helping the little lady down, he took his backpack and lifted the bike with only a single hand. Apparently he lived on the second floor.

"This way," he invited his guest. "I didn't leave this morning thinking a little Japanese girl would be spending the night, so it's a little messy."

Iori had a gut feeling that "a little messy" meant a lot messy. Jordan might have been a decent gentlemen thus far, but he was still a guy. Empty pizza boxes, piled up trash bags, dirty dishes strewn about, all that shes heard of how a single man lives (and she noticed long ago his lack of a wedding band). As it turns out, the apartment was only a little messy.

What immediately struck Iori when he opened the door was the furniture occupying the front room. Perhaps nothing a "guy" would chose, he had a large three seat sofa in tan colors and dark floral pattern. Perfectly did it match with the bookshelf opposite the entryway, and the large entertainment center immediately to her right. To enter the apartment she had to curve to the right as another room, perhaps a closet, blocked a straightforward entry. In the corner of this front room was a desk with a large computer and game console, and a sliding glass door leading to a patio. Iori's first impression was, This looks like something a Grandfather would choose.

As far as being messy, there was a quilted blanket laying on the sofa.

"I'm sure your tired," Jordan spoke up when Iori finally decided to move forward again, "so let me show your room."

For a moment Iori thought that this was a two bedroom, but she found an unmade bed directly opposite the kitchen.

Upon noticing Iori's confusion, "Oh, that's mine."

"This is not two bedrooms?"

Jordan visibly flinched, but for what reason Iori did not know, "No, it isn't. I have guests here every once and in while, so I let them take the bedroom."

"You do not use bedroom?"

He sighs, "I tried, but I can't sleep in there. It's a thing with me, I got to sleep close to the front door. I don't know what it is with me, I'm just like that."

Iori thought, Sleeping next to the front door? He's almost like my dog.

"Well, here's the kitchen," pointing to the kitchen, "my room," perhaps the space that was supposed to be the dinning room, "bathroom," in the short hall leading to the bedroom, on the left, "and the master bedroom."

This room also matched with the theme thus far, but it seemed a bit more feminine for some strange reason. Atop a king sized bed was dark burgundy colors with gold trim. There were comforters, throw pillows, more pillows, and quilted blankets underneath the sheets. Compared to Jordan's bed in the dinning room, which had only a sheet and two pillows, this was extravagant. Likewise, this was a bit much compared to Iori's bedroom back in Japan. Iori only won because of her drawn curtains, where this had none.

Along with the bed were twin nightstands, a lamp, a dresser with a small TV on top, and a door that lead to what she expected to be a walk-in closet. Next to the dresser, before the closet, was a patio table with crafting supplies resting on top. By far there was something different with this room.

"Um," Jordan hummed as he leaned against the entryway, "you're going to need something to sleep in, right? Want to take one of my shirts?"

He had to mention that just as the thought crossed her mind, "Um, no. I will be okay?"

"You sleep naked?" he immediately questioned.

"No!"

"Then you need something else. I'm not letting you sleep in that dress."

And he scampered off without allowing Iori further room for rebuttal. Sighing, her expression naturally fell to the floor. In a moment he was back.

"Here, take this," it was a black t-shirt with the logo of a tattoo artist printed on the front. "You might be in a bad situation right now, but there's nothing stopping you from being comfortable while you're here. And go ahead and take the shower. No doubt you're more then a little sweaty after all that you've been through today."

"Why are you doing this for me?" had been on her mind since the moment she met this man. As to why she decided to ask at this very moment, she had no idea.

Jordan leaned against the wall, "Hmm. I'm not entirely sure. I'm not the kind of person that helps out everyone he sees. And frankly, I'm not sure why I'm doing it. As far as I see I've nothing to gain and my wallet's drying out quicker then a puddle on Las Vegas Blvd. I guess the short answer is because I want to. You're interesting, and that trumps any logical reason I could put together."

Interesting, he says. Iori didn't know how to interpret that. But all the same she was truly grateful. She lost count how many times she's done this now, but she again bowed to the one that had been so extremely generous.

"Aw shucks, you're going to make me blush."

When she rose, she was laughing along with him, beaming a smile more radiant than any other since landing in this country.

"Go wash yourself up, we got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Well, that certainly took a lot longer then I expected. Perhaps the only thing harder then having to go through the heartbreak of forgetting to save and losing hours worth or work, is forcing yourself to delete something that you know you can't make work. It's like railroad tracks; once you get going in a certain direction, when you realize you're going the wrong way, you have to stop, back up, then make your turn. It's actually a lot of work simply to delete something that you've written. Well, it has to be done. And it's not like I'm getting paid for this. My updates should be more frequent from now on.

Hopefully.

~Kyle Castorena