Read Online An Obvious Fact by Craig Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

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    â€œHow’s the bike?” We were sitting in the Ponderosa Bar behind the Ponderosa Café. Actually, we were sitting at a picnic table in the alley behind the Ponderosa Bar behind the Ponderosa Café, because it was the only place where there were acouple of seats together, and we were soon to have guests. “Irreparable, I hope?”
    The Bear rewrapped the gauze and Ace bandage around his hand after readjusting the nonstick pad that covered the burn he’d received from the KTM as it had attempted to squash him like a bug. “I bent a few things, but we’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Exasperated, which I could tell only from a slight change in the angle of his head, he turned and looked at me. “You act as if I am the only one who does crazy things.”
    â€œName one crazy thing I do.”
    â€œIt is pinned to your shirt.”
    I sipped my Rainier. “Actually, it’s in a natty leather wallet in my pocket.”
    â€œYou know what I mean.”
    It was a velvety evening in the Black Hills, and the slight breeze carried the scent of the pines and the clear high-country air—or maybe it was the lumberyard on the other side of the river. “That’s different; it’s my job.”
    He raised an eyebrow and savored his Snowden cabernet. “Why is that different? I am thinking it might actually be worse.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œMine is driven by passion, yours by wages.”
    I gave him the eyebrow back. “Civic duty, if you please.”
    â€œEven worse—insanity as a duty?”
    â€œThe insane part of my work is accidental, an improvisational by-product, whereas you are actually courting crazy.”
    â€œNot true. I am, like you, participating in actions which may or may not lead to certain results which you deem as crazy.”
    â€œNo, you choose to do these things.”
    He gestured with the wineglass. “And you did not choose to wear that badge in the natty leather wallet?”
    I considered it and then raised my bottle in a toast as he joined me. “Touché.”
    â€œWhat are you guys toasting?”
    I looked up at the smiling man with the blue sweatshirt and mop of silver hair. “Well, if it isn’t No Go Novo.” I scooted over and made room for the traffic expert for the Division of Criminal Investigation. He sat, and I noticed that he’d already fortified himself with a beer from the bar, a prudent action seeing as how we hadn’t spotted a waitress in twenty minutes.
    The investigator glanced around, pushing the hair from his face. “Kind of crowded around here.”
    â€œâ€™Tis the season.”
    Mike nodded to Henry. “You make your time trial over in Sturgis?”
    The Bear smiled. “Nine-tenths of it.”
    â€œUh oh.”
    I shrugged. “He’s in the front third.”
    Mike seemed impressed. “Well, that means they think you’ll actually make it; the guys they throw in the back third are doomed.”
    Henry nodded. “I know, I have been there.”
    â€œWhat time is the race tomorrow?”
    â€œEight.”
    â€œIn the morning?” He drank from his beer. “I’m not through throwing up by then.”
    Spotting a waitress rounding one of the other tables, I flagged her down and turned back to my comrades. “I’m getting another; you guys want something?” Agreeing that we might not have another opportunity, I ordered a double round and then turned back to Mike. “Did you have a look at Bodaway’s bike?”
    â€œNo, but I saw the incident location.”
    â€œAnd?”
    He took a couple of sips of his beer, encouraged by the hope of another. “It rained, of course, and there’s been no end of traffic on that road—”
    â€œYeah, yeah, yeah.”
    He smiled. “There are about three different types of gyroscopic instability on a motorcycle. The ones that happen