Never Never Land Part One

I do not own
the biker mice from mars they are owned by the creators of the cartoon series.
I make no profit from the creation
of this story and do so only for entertainment purposes. I do however own Morgan
Blair, Shimar Muyo, and Jamul Langer they are invention’s of my imagination.
I have to add that again without the guidance of two remarkable young writers
I would never have been able to get this finished. My deepest thanks Bookworm
and Red for taking the time to share all that marvelous gray matter.

Second star to the right and straight on till morning. Lost children aren’t
the only ones who find their way there, but only children can stay.

Part 1

Finally after looking, for what seemed like an eternity, she had landed a position.
All those horrible interviews and miles of walking had paid off and she found
a real job. The salary was great and the hours looked to be pretty reasonable.
So this weekend would be spent taking it easy, resting up for the new workweek
and of course the needed shopping to coordinate just the right outfits for her
new position.

The only down side was the fact that she had to come through this section of
town. What was the city trying to do? Half the buildings look as if a bomb
had hit them and the rest were just foundations, as if someone had snatched
the top floors right out of the ground, “urban renewal, go figure,” she thought
while trying to see through the rain that was covering her windshield.

Morgan Blair, an attractive, sepia skinned African American woman, in her late
twenties, had only been back in Chicago for little more than 6 months. She had
recently graduated from one of New York’s top fine arts colleges and was determine
to carve out a successful art career in the windy city. Of course her new job
had little to do with her craft, but it would pay the bills until she could
save enough to start her own gallery. She drove her new silver, pick-up truck,
a graduation gift from her parents, as quickly as the law would allow even though,
along with the rain, the streetlights where few and far between which made seeing
that much more difficult. Thankfully there wasn’t too much traf ……

Before she could finish her thought, a large image moved directly across her
path and she slammed down on her brakes trying to avoid hitting it. Unfortunately
she didn’t stop soon enough and felt the sickening jolt of her truck knocking
the object out of the way. Morgan swerved to a stop and held onto the steering
wheel, so hard, her hands shook too frightened to move. She attempted to catch
her breath, all the time praying that it was a garbage can or a loose piece
of metal that might have fallen from one of the decaying builds. Daring to look
up, the dim light of the lone streetlamp showed what she had actually hit, lying
against the curb was a downed motorcycle and not far from it was a motionless
body.

“Oh my, God,” whispered from her shaking lips. The expression was something
many used as just an expression of surprise but Morgan uttered it as an actual
prayer. She pried her hands off the steering wheel and with shaking weak legs
slowly climbed out and walked over to the still body. She knew enough first
aid not to move them, but she just had to see if they where still breathing.
She took hold of the person’s shoulder and tugged pulling them over until they
lay completely on their back. It was a man of considerable size with an odd-looking
motorcycle helmet covering his head. She tried to find a way to take it off,
but it seemed to be attached up under his chin. The best she could do was feel
his neck and try to get a pulse. He must have had a thick beard because she
had to push through a lot of hair before she could touch his skin, but a sigh
of relief rushed over her when she was able to feel a strong but usually fast
heartbeat.

If his heart was beating then he must still be breathing, but that didn’t mean
that he wasn’t badly hurt. She ran back to her truck to dig in her bag and retrieve
her cell phone only to remember that it was left at the phone shop for repairs
earlier that day. She ran her hands through the small twists of wet black hair
trying to figure out what she should do next. Then she looked up and noticed
a phone booth about a block and a half away. Thank heaven; she could use it
to call for help.

Reaching behind her seat she pulled out a small gray and white stadium blanket.
She carried it back over to the injured man and laid it over him, “I don’t know
if you can hear me, but I have to leave you for a few minutes. There’s a phone
a little ways up the street. Don’t move I’ll be right back with some help, I
hope.”

Before she could stand the stranger grabbed hold of her hand, “ Please don’t,”
a low voice emitted from the helmet. Morgan jumped in surprise and tried to
pull her hand away,

“No please, I won’t hurt you, just don’t call any one.” he released her hand
showing that he wasn’t a threat.

Morgan stood up and back away rubbing her wrist, “I think you are really hurt
and I can’t just leave you out here in the rain. I have to get you some help.”

“No honestly, I’m okay. Where’s my bike?”

“I think it’s as banged up as you are, but it’s over there,” Morgan point to
the bike laying a few feet away.

“Please Miss, if you would just help me up and back on her, I’ll be outta your
hair.”

“But…”Morgan couldn’t help but be moved by his honest plea, his voice was so
sincere and she had to do something. She knelt back down and waited for him
to make the next move.

It was obvious the man was in a great deal of pain as he tried to get himself
up off the ground. He tried to brace himself up on his right elbow but groaned
when he put any pressure on his arm and he immediately lay back on the ground.

“This is ridiculous, you can hardly sit up, I have to get you some kind of
help. Look do you have any friends or family that would come get you?”

He stopped as if he were trying to figure out the answer to her question, “I…I…I
don’t remember exactly. My mind is just a little cloudy.”

That’s it I have to call somebody. Please, you need medical attention you could
die. Are you running from the law? Whatever you did its not worth possible dying
for.”

“I’m not a criminal, but I have my reasons, please just help me to my bike
and I’ll be okay, please.” he was almost begging.

“All right, but I know this is a mistake,” Morgan reached down and slid her
arm under his left shoulder and around his back. He took a bracing breath and
leaned up on her as she tried to give him a little leverage to stand. He moaned
but ignored the pain until they clumsily got him to his feet and Morgan almost
buckled from the weight of this very tall and heavy man. They walked slowly
over to the cycle and Morgan let him lean against the lamp post while she walked
over and lifted the heavy bike up right causing the destruction of three of
her newly manicured nails.

Strangely once upright the machine stood on its own and the rider walked over
to gently touch the brown leather seat, “You okay, Darlin?” the stranger soothed
as if the machine were a trusted friend. Morgan just watched and shrugged it
off remembering how many times her friend, Jamul, would talk to his motorcycle
like it was alive, the only strange thing was his bike never responded as this
one seemed to.

Before he could even mount the machine he almost toppled over and Morgan grabbed
him full around the waist with both her arms. “Look, I promise I won’t call
any body, but at least come sit in my truck for a couple of seconds just until
you get a little more stable and we can get out of the rain.” He turned his
helmeted head toward her and nodded in agreement.

Morgan supported most of his weight the short distance to her truck. She opened
the door and he struggled to get into the front seat. Finally in, he lay back
and took a breath to let the pain subside a little.

She walked to the driver’s side; her motor was still running so she flipped
the heat on since they were both shivering from the cold rain that had drench
their bodies. She remembered the thermos from lunch and knew there was a little
warm coffee still in it. She retrieved the large metal sliver cylinder with
the red plastic cup and twisted off the top, “something warm would do us both
some good,” she said as she removed the cup and poured out the warm black liquid.
Turning to the stranger she held the cup for him to take a drink, “its okay,
its just coffee,” she smiled holding it closer.

He turned to face her and debated for a second then with some difficultly raised
his injured right arm and leaned up slightly to remove the helmet. Morgan heard
a slight hissing sound then saw him slip it off his head and turned to look
at her.

Her first reaction was to sit and stare at him, and then she calmly asked,
“Is there a reason for that?”

He looked at her, “A reason for what?”

“That a grown man would put on a mask, sunglasses and a motorcycle helmet and
then go riding out into the dark Chicago night, in the rain? Do you have some
sort of a death wish?” Morgan was mad that what seemed like some sort of childish
practical joke could have gotten them both killed.

The stranger chuckled but stopped as the pain shot through his ribs, “ I’m
not wearing a mask and the shades, are a story you wouldn’t believe, if I told
you.” He lay back trying to relieve the ache in his sides.

Morgan looked at him in disbelief, sat the thermos on the floor in front of
her and reached over to touch his face. He made no movements to stop her and
let her run her hand down his fur covered cheek, touch his ear and even tug
slightly on the hair hanging on his shoulder.

In shocked realization Morgan snatched her hand away, threw open the door,
jumped out of her truck and took off running. She stopped suddenly and looked
back to see if he were following her. After thinking for a second she laughed
at herself and walked back to the truck, opened the door again and saw that
he hadn’t mode a move. She took an embarrassed breath, got back in the truck
and sat down.

The man who’s features resembled a large tan mouse reached up to remove the
black glasses with the green and yellow lens and laid them on the seat next
to him. In one motion he rubbed his eyes, forehead and pushed the long tan hair
away from his face, “And that’s why you can’t call any of the authorities, please
don’t run out again, I couldn’t catch you if I wanted too.”

“I’m sorry you caught me a little off guard. You’re not what I was expecting
to see,” Morgan apologized.

“Nope, I guess not, don’t worry about it. If the circumstance were different
and you were on my world, maybe I do the same thing.”

Morgan knew he didn’t mean to sound insulting, but she was just the same, “Oh
and just what world do you come from where I would cause you to go screaming
into the night.”

He looked at her and realized how what he said must have sounded, “Mars, but
just like you, I wouldn’t have run very far,” he gave her a weak smile.

She returned the smile, “Mars huh? Well I guess, it’s as good a place to be
from as any, but if I can’t take you to the hospital I have to get you to where
you are staying. Somebody has to be helping, you just tell me where to take
you and maybe they’ll be able to take care of your injuries.”

A frightening puzzled expression filled his face, “I don’t know, I…I can’t
remember.”

Morgan touched his shoulder, “Don’t worry, it will come back. You probably
got a slight concussion when you smacked into the sidewalk. I’ll take you to
my place for tonight and I’m sure things will be clearer in the morning.”

“My bike, what about my bike?”

“Boy, guys are the same no matter what planet they come from. You have probably
broken your arm and who knows what else, you can’t remember where or who you
are and you are in the hands of, for all you know, somebody that might turn
you over to the nearest alien reward center and you are worried about your bike?

He smiled looking at her with trust in his crystal pink eyes and reached up
to touch her face. “I don’t think a lovely lady like you would do that. I’ve
learned early who I can trust and who I can’t so; I’m not worried about that.”

Morgan could feel her face getting hot and the way he looked at her made her
heartbeat speed up. “Oh …well…okay. You don’t have to worry about your bike;
I can pull it into the back. I transport a friend of mine’s bike all the time.
You just lay back and relax and I’ll load it up and we can get out of this rain
and see what I can do to patch you up,” he smiled and nodded but not before
running his finger gently down her cheek before taking his hand away.

Morgan coughed nervously trying to catch her breath for a whole different reason,
then reached down to pulled off her black high-heeled pumps knowing they would
just get in the way. She got back out and ran to the flatbed section of her
truck and pulled the door open trying to ignore how cold the wet ground felt
to her stocking feet. The wooden planks where still in there from the other
day, when she and her friend Jamul had gone to the moto-cross finals. She pulled
them out and made a small ramp. She went back to the motorcycle and the motor
was now humming softly, he must have some sort of remote control to start it
from inside the truck.

Pushing the cycle to the truck was no problem but she stood looking at the
height from the ground to the truck. “I’m never going to get this way up there,”
but she was going to give it the best try she could. Taking a deep breath she
started to push the machine expecting to struggle but to her surprise it moved
up the ramp on it’s own stopping when it was just the right distance in the
truck.

“Well that’s convenient. You move by yourself, why not? He’s a Martian who
looks like a grown up Simon and you can drive yourself, so what else is new?”
She shook her head and climbed up into the truck, pulled up the planks and completely
covered the bike with a large, heavy, waterproof, canvas tarpaulin. Of course
her new gray linen suit was ruined not to mention the expensive matching gray
rain coat, but it was all to solidify interplanetary relations,” she giggled
wondering if she could deduct their cost off of next years taxes.

After all was secure she finally got back in the drivers seat exhausted and
frozen. The warm heat felt so good on her icy toes, feet and legs. She looked
over to see how her rider was doing and his head leaned against the window and
he appeared to have fallen asleep. She reached over pushing up the sleeve of
the leather jacket he wore and again she felt a strong steady rapid pulse. Letting
him sleep with a possible head injury wasn’t the wisest thing to d, but maybe
with Martians it was their way of healing. Regardless, she wasn’t going to wake
him up. He would need to be at least a little rested if she were going to try
and get him to her apartment which thankfully was below street level.

“Okay, Miss Good Samaritan, what have you gotten yourself into now?” she sighed
and sat for a second watching him sleep. “Well, I have to say one thing, I don’t
know how Alvin and Theodore turned out, but one can only hope it was as gorgeous
as you,” she laughed softly at her private little joke and pulled off to head
for home.

To be continued….