Hearts Of Glass #AdultFiction

Chapter 1

FRIDAY - MAY 28, 1976

Sam raced down the freeway, his Harley feeling like a purring tiger between his thighs. He kept his helmet off, needing to feel the rush of the wind through his long black hair, hoping to rid himself of the buzz that had been running through him.

He had left his parent's house in the Catskills early that morning, heading for the show in Cleveland, Sunday night. They were in their second month of the tour, having covered the Eastern states and had a couple days off. Since they were close to their homes, they decided to stop and visit their parents.

Sam loved the tour, the excitement, the rush that came from the crowds. And the parties afterward, especially the girls that were at those parties. There were always plenty to pick from.

But lately, Sam noticed that the energy he felt on stage didn't leave his body. Soon it became a buzz that he couldn't shake.

After one night with his family, he told Georgie he was going to take his bike and ride ahead. He thought maybe getting off the bus and being on his own during the tour could help him shake the restlessness. He hoped too, that he could get some ideas for some new songs.

Construction forced him to take a detour through Breezewood, New York. He saw the sign announcing the small town at the edge of road and slowed down to check it out.

He cruised down the residential area, appreciating the detailed craftsmanship of the Victorian homes. Sidewalks lined the street and ran up the middle of each yard, leading to porches that stretched the width of the house. Most of the porches had wooden swings on the end, some had trellises filled with flowers. The sun shone through the leaves of the tall oak trees in the yards, casting leafy shadows on the street.

Occasionally, he could see a glimpse of the glistening lake behind the homes on the right. In some places the shoreline curved away, and the ground between the lake and the backyards was filled with trees. The neighborhood had a settled-in feel about it, there was no doubt in his mind, this was an old town.

He drove past a town square with the obligatory cannon in the center, and then the main road widened and became the downtown district. He slowly cruised by, seeing a "mom and pops" grocery store, a restaurant, an ice cream parlor and a few antique stores on one side of the road.

On the opposite side was a hardware store, a pizza shop and an old theatre, the marquee displaying "The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea."  Seeing that reminded Sam of the first time he met Kris, the guy was a really cool dude. They had partied together one night in a bar in New Orleans and it was an unforgettable night.

He slowed down to let a crowd go by on the crosswalk.The little beach town was bustling with vacationing tourists. The businesses got fewer and farther between, diminishing into grassy field after about 6 blocks.

The orange detour sign was at the edge of the town, directing him to turn left to catch up to the freeway again. He looked straight ahead instead; about 50 yards away on the right, he spotted a sign - BEACHSIDE CAMPGROUNDS.

He skidded to a stop, scattering the loose gravel..His front wheel was turned towards the left, but as he planted his feet on the road, Sam stared at the sign on his right. He absently revved the engine as he narrowed his eyes.

His decision made, he turned his bike to the right and gunned the engine.

The office was about 20 ft. down the drive, a small white hut. He read the plaque posted by the door that announced "Dave Wilkins, owner and manager", then under it was a smaller sign that said "David Wilkins Realty". Printed in smaller letters on the next line, "David Wilkins, Broker". As Sam was opening the door, a guy about his age stood up from the desk on the right. He introduced himself as the owner, and explained the way to the beach as he assigned Sam a campground.