Hando Has a Visitor

Hando opened a beer and walked out on his screened porch and sat down in a rocker, it was wobbly and he looked down and shifted it on the wooden floor. He had gotten used to the silence since finding this abandoned cabin on the edge of The Glen. No one knew about it he thought, at least no one had approached the place since he’d been there.
It had taken a lot of work to get it cleaned out and the screening put back up on the porch. He had nothing else to do with his spare time. No mates anymore after that last episode in Melborne, they were either dead or in prison. He had been smart to get out when he did and took off with no particular destination in mind ending up in Sydney for awhile until a weekend ride around with a shelia he’d rather forget brought him to The Glen.

Yeah it was a bit of luck finding this place. He even had a job of sorts in Coffs, something to put a little food in the fridge and gas in his car. It was so quiet…like he was the only one in the world.

He finished his beer and walked back inside placing a Wagner on the old record player there would be no one to interrupt the concert. He sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes.

When the music stopped he still sat for a minute until something…he sensed rather than heard and got up going back out on the porch…what the fuck.

She was astride a black Harley with her back to him looking out over the pond, long black hair almost to her waist she was dressed in cut off jeans and black boots.

“What are you doing here?” Hando asked from the porch

“Oh…I heard the music…and followed it down the drive.” Startled at his voice she turned.

“You like Wagner?”

“Yes I do, I’m Marce by the way.” He didn’t answer with his name, “I’m sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your privacy.” She started backing her bike around.

“It’s not private if you can just ride up here like this.” He had to strain his ears to hear her, her voice was so soft.
“I didn’t know the cabin was here I just like I said followed the music…it seemed a little out of place out here in the country.”

“I’m called Hando, would you like to come in?”

“Um, I’m not sure…” he had stepped out of the door and walked down the steps toward her. She’d never seen anything quite like him. “You seem a little out of place out here too.”

He stopped in front of the bike, “do you think so, where do you think I belong?” His eyes flicked over her.
“Oh…anywhere you want I guess.”

“Like here?” he asked raising his chin

“Yeah…like here.” She locked onto his eyes, fascinated by him

“Are you coming in or not?”

She looked at the black leather watch on her arm, “I have to be at work in an hour.”
“Where do you work?” he asked moving closer.

“In a leather shop in Coffs,” Marce wasn’t afraid of him despite his appearance, she’d seen worse. Something in his eyes told her he meant no harm to her. “I have to go home and change clothes.”

“Do you ride out here often?” He wanted her and the knowledge caused him to stop and blink his eyes.

“No actually this is the first time I’ve gone off the main road. You live here in this place?” She tilted her head, “I might ride back sometime.” She felt her own body heat and blushed.

He smiled slightly, “do,” was all he said.

Marce smiled slightly back at him and started her bike turning once as she rode up the drive.

Hando watched her until she was out of sight and walked down to the edge of the pond and sat in the grass. Being alone was one thing, being lonely was something else.