Really? by M.J. Garrett (best motivational books to read .TXT) 📖

backed up a step. “What do you have in mind?”

Rick smiling, “You'll see. Let me go get my ride.”

Great. I don't know what is in store, but I figured it would be good to get away from the grind a little bit. I walked over to make sure my car was locked and leaned up against the side waiting for Rick. After a minute or so, I hear the sound of a motorcycle. Rick pulling his ride up next to me; looks at me and tosses me a helmet.

“Put this on.” his muffled voice said through his skeleton covered helmet and mirrored shield.

“Really? It's pink! I can't wear this!” I stared at the pink helmet that I was sure wouldn't even fit on the top of my head. It didn't have a face guard or a shield, just this pink hard plastic hat the made my face look more like a ball of fat. “I'm not going to wear this and I'm not getting on the back of that bike.”


**

Straddling the bike with Rick nestled between my legs, I peered over his shoulder while holding onto him for dear life. I could only imagine what the rest of the world was thinking. This sharp looking guy, dressed in his suit sporting this fat-ass with a pink helmet. I guess if Rick didn't mind, then I guess I shouldn't either.

After a day on the town, Rick turned the corner and there my car was. Still sitting in the same spot with a crowd and two fire engines dousing my crappy car down with foam and water. Pulling closer, my grip on Rick loosened up as my jaw just dropped in uncontrollable awe. Getting off the bike I slowly walk toward the burnt remains of my car and just stood there.

“Is this yours?” the fireman walked towards me talking in a language that shock doesn't let me understand. “Sir, is this yours?”

“Uh...umm...well, it was this morning.” I glanced to look at the fireman with his fire-proof pants being held up with his red suspenders. “Yeah...” I again looked over at my car, “...yeah, it's mine.”

“Well, wait here. The police are coming.” He turned and walked away, but not before stopping and turning toward me with the look of confusion. “You going to be okay? You know, if it matters, nice helmet. My daughter has one just like it.”

“Really? Nice helmet? Well, it's a good thing you approve. I think your helmet is gay!” I snapped at him out of anger.

“...Says the guy with a pink helmet on? Good luck, Pal.” He then disappeared behind the red fire engine.


**


I told you that life wasn't so spectacular. In just a short time I lost a job, ex-wife, and father. I did gain the love and custody of my two girls, so I still have someone to live for. It seems that life has thrown it's curve ball, but I'm still surviving.


Chapter 8

A knock on the door woke me up from another sleepless day of warming the living room couch. With my hair a mess and my worn out pajamas that seem to have more holes than material, I walk to the door and peep through the hole to see who was taking it among themself to ruin my beautiful Saturday morning. Cops? What the hell is going on? I answered the door to see two officers standing there waiting for my welcoming morning breath.

"Can I help you? Is everything okay?" I stood there with the morning sun slicing my face in half as I peeked from behind the door.

"Are you Abraham?" The officer stared at me with suspicion as I ran everything that I could have possibly done through my balding mess of a head.

"Yes, I am Abraham." I stood there waiting for the next wave of bad news, as my Katie stumbled her way to the kitchen with her eyes shut.

"Sir, have you been home all night?" He sternly asked me while the other officer stood slightly behind the one who was questioning me.

"Yes, I have been home. Is something wrong? Is somebody hurt or something?" Confused by the reason for their visit, they stood there asking questions that worried me about their visit.

"Sir, do you have access to the attic space?" The officer pushed the door open and peeked around the room, obviously looking for anything strange or out of place. "Is there anyone else in the house?"

"My two daughters are here. They are in the back bedroom. What the hell is going on?" I opened the door as the two officers walked into the door and immediately started looking around. "I don't understand? Did I do something wrong?"

"We'll talk about that in a minute. Where is the attic space?" I ushered the officers into the bedroom closet and showed them where the attic crawl space was. They looked around and mumbled to each other. I couldn't really make anything out, but I did hear one of them say that there was no way it could have been me.

The officers made their way out the front door and apologized for the inconvenience. I asked them what was going on and one of them said, "Apparently, this morning around 6 a.m., someone was in the attic space and almost fell through your neighbor's ceiling."

What?! I couldn't believe it. I poked my head out of the door and saw my neighbor talking with the property manager. The neighbor's name was Jen. She has been really nice on the occasions that we have spoken. Surely she didn't think that I had anything to do with this!

I closed my door and drug my feet back over to the couch. Sitting there watching Katie poor a bowl of cereal, I couldn't help but wonder who could have been in the attic space. This was such a quiet place. I didn't know any of the neighbors, but surely this wasn't what Jen thought it could be. Could someone be creeping around the attic?


**


"I have to move?! Really?! Why?!" I stood there in my ratty pajamas as the property manager tried to explain. "So because I share an attic space, I'm automatically guilty? Where the hell am I supposed to go? If she is so freaked out, make her move! I could care less if anyone is crawling around up there!! Is this even legal?!"

"I know you are upset, but if we deem you a menace, we reserved the right to remove you from the apartment. You have 7 days." This pompous little bitch stood there with this smile on her face that seemed to come straight from the Devil.

I have never been in any trouble of any kind. Not once! I only received 1 ticket from the police and that was because my car was illegally parked, but that was just a couple of days ago when my car exploded.


**


I guess you can add homeless to my list of things to fix on the "honey-do" list? I have no clue what to do. I am homeless. I have no vehicle. I have no way to get to work. I have 2 beautiful daughters to look after. This is my nightmare!


Chapter 9

Sitting there, looking at the ridiculous pink helmet, I flipped it around in my hands for a couple of seconds then took a deep breath. Rick, smiled at me as I struggled to snap the strap beneath my chins. Normally, this would be where I tell him that I'm not wearing this stupid thing, but I figured that I didn't really have a choice in the matter.

Miss Thatcher, came by the apartment this morning to pick the kids up from school, so that worry was placed on the back burner of my mind. I'm so glad that Miss Thatcher wasn't here to see me wearing this stupid helmet. At least I still have some dignity.

Rick looked at me with his cool shades and helmet tucked under his arm. I guess when you are such a cool dude, you can have any blob of fat on the back of your bike and still look cool. "Come on out, man." Rick stood there at the door waving me out as I stayed hiding in the shadows of the dimly lit apartment. "Come on," he said to me, "No one cares what you look like, except you. Besides, no one is even going to see you."

I slowly peeked my head out of the door and with this pink helmet gleaming from the sun light. I didn't see anyone. Maybe if I could just hurry up and make it to the bike, we could get the hell out of here? Stepping up the pace, I jogged down the stairs. As I turned the corner, I bumped into Miss Thatcher. Apparently, Katie left her book bag and Miss Thatcher came back to pick it up.

"Abe?" She looked at me with surprise and just stared at the pink beacon I shoved my fat head into. With a smile on her face, she asked if I could get the book bag.

"First of all," I tried not to turn red from the embarrassment, but I don't think that she even looked at my face. Her eyes glued to the pink helmet, I continued, "I would like to say that the helmet is not mine."

"What helmet? I don't see a helmet?" she tried to hide her smile as she pulled her lips tightly together. She then quickly covered her mouth to help in the effort.

"Really? 'What helmet'? I'm going to pretend that you aren't making fun of me and I'm going to return up stairs to get the bag." As I turned to walk back up the stairs, Rick was sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at Miss Thatcher. As I walked passed him, I pointed my finger in his face and quietly mumbled, "Don't you even think about it." then continued to his apartment.

Walking back down the stairs, I see Rick pointing out different things on his bike to Miss Thatcher. I just knew he was trying to flex his coolness for the pretty teacher. "Miss Thatcher? Here is the bag."

"Please, call me Angela." she said with a smile. This smile was a little different. Although I was still sporting this ridiculous pink helmet, she smiled with some sort of curiosity written on her face. She cleared her