Hearing a thump of a flat tire, I groaned inwardly.  I was taking two young nieces home after their summer visit and this would make the trip seem longer.  As I pulled off the highway, I prayed silently for help. It had been many years since I’d changed a tire, and never on this car, which had a kind of jack I had never used.

 Even before the trunk was unlocked, I realized the girls’ determination to see everything wouldn’t make it easy for me to keep them away from the highway traffic while I worked on the left side of the car. Before I could unload the trunk to get at the jack and spare tire, I had a more urgent concern. 

 Two huge motorcycles stopped behind us and their burly, bearded riders in leather jackets dismounted.  Everything I’d ever heard about the depravity of motorcycle…

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