My father died young. My oldest brother, Bruce, he took over our father’s responsibility. He was a big strong man—picked up a niցցer man and dropped him in a dumpster. I naturally was attracted to the kind of men my brother hung out with. When I was a cute little sixteen year old thing I went into the Holiday House to find a man. Also, when I was a little girl in middle school and that big niցցer punched my face and the principal wouldn’t do anything about it, the Freedom Riders rolled up while the buses full of black kids were pulling off for West Baltimore and told them they’d be back if they laid hands on any of us again—and it worked.

I got served, and was talking to one handsome fella when a very good friend of Bruce’s came in—this was where the bikers hung out. These were bikers—big, tattooed, hard-drinking men. I never imagined they feared Bruce so until Sally said, “You’re Bruce’s sister. You’re perfectly safe here with us and we will tell Bruce you were here. If we don’t, and he finds out you were here—he will kill us. They’ll be nothin’ but bodies in this place.”

They were nice and respectful and talked to me and nobody bothered me, or asked me out, not Freedom Riders, Chosen Sons or Hell’s Angels. I was off limits.

So I took my cute little self down to Brennens and met this tall handsome fella, one of those loners an independent biker. He was a heck of a man and took me back to his place and we were making out. Then up he stands and off came the pants. I knew what sex was, knew that part went into my part, but had no idea his part could be that large. I jumped back and squealed and he said, “How old are you?”

I said, “Sixteen.”

He said, “Than I’m taking you home. Where do you live?”

I told him and he said, “That’s Bruce’s house! Are you related to Bruce?”

I said, “Yes.”

His eyes bugged out like he saw the Devil and he said to the walls, “Oh fuck me! Girl, I’m dropping you off around the corner. And if your brother sees me you can keep me above ground and him out of prison by swearing that I saw you hitchhiking and I brought you home.”

“Yessir,” I said.

Let me tell you, I was impressed that these men that were older than Bruce, guys in their thirties, were terrified of him. He was a man’s man and I knew after that that I better not date a biker or He’d end up behind bars. It’s just that I had been looking for a man to protect me, like Bruce, and found out he was all I needed. So I married that mean little man who beat me and I couldn’t let Bruce know or my mother’s oldest son would be behind bars.