Chapter Sixteen

“Who wants some Gu?” Otis called out over the bodies lying in the grass around his feet. He held up a cardboard box filled with energy bars and gels. He shook the container, but it made no sound. Sighing, he tucked it under his arm and dug out a handful, waving it in the air. “C’mon, people, you need to fuel your bodies!”

Charlie said, “I’ll take a couple of those bars, O.”

“You just drank a bottle of Enduro-LiQuid,” Mac said. “How many times have I told you, separate your sports drinks and energy foods, and that should keep you in the right carbs per hour range.”

“So wait an hour before you scarf this,” Otis said, tossing a bar to Charlie. “And drink your water.”

Charlie said, “When I’m kickin’ down it’s after I’m done and washed up that I’m ready to eat a horse. Or a cow. Maybe just a couple of burgers.”

Frankie rolled over on her side toward Dante, who was sprawled next to her on the grass. “Did you hear that, D? Charlie washes!”

Charlie flicked his finger at Frankie and turned his back. MaToya said to him, “The thing is, Charlie, when you ride at home, it’s after school, or on the weekend. On this tour you’re doing the long haul, even though we have rest days built in, it’s still way more than even your training sked. You need to listen to your body or you’ll bonk.” She tossed him a gel packet. “Trust me on this one, Charlie. Hey, I didn’t steer you wrong on the gear, and now look how stylin’ you are, with your matching kit and so fine looking!”

Frankie snorted. “Considering Bike Haven is sponsoring the trip, he had to wear the store kit!”

“Yeah, lucky for him he found matching baggies,” Dante said.

Charlie looked over his shoulder at Dante and Frankie. “Don’t you ladies have anything to talk about other than my shorts?” Turning to Mac, he said, “Hey, Skater, how’s the ride?”

Mackenzie was leaning against a tree, her head back, eyes closed. She was lost in thought, mulling over the dream she’d had on the bus, and Grady, her father, and her flying bike. It’d all gotten mixed up together and swirled around her brain, weaving in and out between questions that had no answers.

“Did you say something?”

“Fine. Be that way. I was just curious.”

“No, seriously, I wasn’t paying attention,” Mac said. “What did you say to me?”

Charlie sighed, trying to decide whether to attempt conversation. “I just wanted to know how the RC is on the road.”

“Forget it. We’ve been through this.” Mac leaned her head back on the tree and retreated into her thoughts.

“I wasn’t angling, Mac. I really want to know if you feel a difference.”

Mackenzie opened her eyes and studied Charlie. She didn’t trust him, but since she and Frankie had made the kindness pact, decided to answer. “The difference is huge. I feel like I’m riding on air. The only weight I’m carrying is my own. It’s like…there’s no metal under me, nothing to drag me down. It’s like,” she paused, “it’s like I’m flying.” She looked down, realizing what she was describing. Even though Charlie wouldn’t know that, she blushed.

“Cool. That’s so totally cool.” Charlie said, walking away.

Frankie frowned and looked at Dante and Mac. Mac shrugged and whispered, “Maybe it’s working?”

Dante asked, “What’s working?”

Frankie said, lowering her voice, “We’re going to be so nice to him, even he’ll notice if he starts acting assholic again and regulate his assholicness.”

“Uh, what?” Dante asked.

Frankie scooched closer. “Mac was talking to Charlie as though he were human, and he acted exactly like a real person. Freakish.”

Soon they were on the road again, with Dante riding just in front of Mac. MaToya had mapped out a route curling around pretty back roads; they were pedaling past fields with little white farmhouses surrounded by picket fences. Charming, dilapidated barns dotted the countryside; cows soon outnumbered the few cars that passed.

They were alone on a deserted section of road, and Dante slowed down a bit allowing Mac to catch up so they could ride side by side. The silence was punctuated only by Frankie’s wild off-key yodeling along with her music. Every once and awhile, Dante rode freehand behind Frankie, his fingers plugging his ears just to make Mac laugh.

“If we’re lucky, maybe those battery packs won’t last her as long as she thinks,” Dante said.

After a relaxed lunch by a lake MaToya had found on her last tour, they continued, with directions to bear left when they saw a giant billboard puncturing the view. It was impossible to miss, with a gargantuan green tent painted on it, and a three-foot tall red arrow pointing in the direction of the campgrounds.

As everyone off-loaded their gear from the van and set up camp, Frankie, Mac and Dante started getting dinner together.

Frankie said, taking a big pot out of the van, “I totally blew a non-drive rear spoke today.”

Dante said, “Of course. It’s always the rear wheel, right?”

“Everything cool?” Mac asked.

“Yeah, Ma’s looking it over and said she’d tune me up while I’m on KP with you guys tonight. What’re we making, anyway?”

They stood around the picnic table, pulling out all the staples Otis and MaToya had stocked in big plastic bins. There were dried onions and garlic, baggies filled with colorful red, yellow, and green spices and herbs, milk powder, dried fruits, vegetables, and even shrimp. There were seven different kinds of pastas, rice and wheat. And what felt like a luxury, a cooler with butter and cream, as well as a few other perishables.

Mac rubbed her hands together. “Did Otis mention any menu we’re supposed to follow, or can we make whatever we want?”

Dante and Frankie looked at each other, their eyes wide. Frankie said, “Dude, if you have an idea, consider us your sous-chefs.”

“What’s a Sue chef?” Dante asked. “Is that any relation to a boy named Sue?”

“You are so weird, D,” Frankie said, giving his shoulder a shove.

Mac tossed him the container of dried onions. “It’s French for the people who help the head chef.”

Dante said, “Hey, check this out!” He held up the container of dried onions and pointed to the brand name on the label.

“Mackenzie’s? What are they, your personal onions, Mac?” Frankie asked.

Mac grunted. “I think we’ll have to use them just because.”

After what felt like an eternity to every starving biker who hovered and checked and questioned when dinner would be ready, a feast was served.

“C’mon you beasts, the grub is on!” Dante yelled, while everyone rushed him and got in line.

He handed each Geek a plate and then doled out the salad. Frankie spooned big steaming piles of rice next to that, and then on down the line, Mackenzie ladled her concoction onto the rice. Finally everyone was served, and they dug in.

“I don’t know if I’m starving or you are a cooking genius, but this is amazing, Mackenzie!” MaToya blurted out between groans of appreciation. Everyone ‘mmm’d’ and ‘yummed’ their agreement through full mouths. “What is it? I don’t remember buying anything that would make a meal this good.”

“It’s kind of like paella. You know, the Spanish thing? Usually it has ham and chicken and seafood in it. I used some of those freeze dried veggies you got, and a chicken stock cube, bacon bits, tomato paste—”

“I didn’t know you could cook like this!” Otis interrupted.

Mac shrugged. “I always made dinner before my dad remarried. Still do, lots of times. He likes his meal on the table when he gets home from work.”

Charlie looked like he was about to lick the plate clean. “If it were left to me, it’d be mac and cheese out of a box every night.” He stopped mopping up the juices with his bread and said, “Ha, get it? Mac and cheese?” He looked around the table at the faces staring him down. “Okay, whatever.”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes. But she scooped out a little more for Charlie and everyone else who wanted another helping. She said, “Actually, after enough boxed dinners you get bored —or hungry—enough to figure out how to cook something decent. Anyway, it’s not very hard. You just have to mind-taste it.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you know, just imagine tasting it.”

“Dude, I can imagine eating this, but no way can I imagine making it, and I watched you do it,” Frankie said between bites.

“What do you mean, use your imagination?” Dante asked.

“If you know what something tastes like, imagine that, and then think about what would go with it.” They all looked at her, faces blank. She tried to think of an example. “Okay, take plain old marinara sauce. Nothing in it. Just tomatoes. Now try to mind-taste what it would be if you added a little freshly crushed garlic. Now imagine you put in too much garlic. Pretty soon you’ll be mind-tasting different kinds of things and getting new ideas.”

Charlie nodded. “I am mind-tasting your bike right now.” He closed his eyes. “I’m getting a new idea about taking it out for a spin…” He opened his eyes and saw Mac frowning. “Kidding! I’m only kidding.”

“I see,” Dante said. Triumphant, Mackenzie pointed to him as proof her method worked. But then he added, “I see I’ll never get past boxed macaroni and cheese.”

By the time they finished cleaning up it was dark, and Mac and Frankie were grateful they’d already pitched their tent. They slid into their sleeping bags and groaned, relieved to be horizontal.

“If I’m this tired now, how’s it going to be when we really start cranking?” Frankie moaned. “At least my knee’s doing okay. I was worried it would start popping on me or something,”

“Frankie, you’re yelling,” Mac told her. She rolled over and nudged Frankie. “Turn off your iPod. I can hear it!”

The tinny beat of the song escaped Frankie’s earplugs and hung over Mackenzie like a toxic fog. She couldn’t puzzle out the words, but she could hear a haunting organ solo and some guitar strums, making her belly suddenly tighten. She sat up and, reaching over to Frankie, yanked out her ear buds.

“Hey!”

“Turn it off. We’re going to sleep,” Mackenzie said.

She couldn’t tell what song it was, but it reminded her of the dream she’d had on the bus on the way to Providence. It stuck to her like cobwebs and made her skin crawl.