Taker decided to take a ride in the country on his Harley. He needed to get away to some peace and quiet....the country life. The city had taken its toll on him with the rat race it brought from day to day. A nice ride in the country would do him some good. It was a beautiful summer day.

He came to a stop sign, reveling his motor as he and a White AMC Pacer arrived at the intersection at the same time. He beckon for the pretty blonde to go. She threw him a smile and waved in passing.

He drove on, making it out in of the city, as he took in the beautiful countryside. Fields were fenced in, while the sheep or cattle grazed lazily behind them. Every once and a while you caught the glimpse of an small house in the distance. You could see people moving about doing their daily chores.

Taker took in the fresh air as the wind blew pass his face licking at it and leaving his ponytail to trail flowing freely behind him, with the bandana in place on his head. Now this was a ride. It felt so good to be cruising down the road with little or no cars for miles around.

He came to a little small town. He was getting a little hungry. He drove through the streets looking for a store to stop in. There down the street was a little store. Well, the only store from what he could see.

He rode his bike down to the store. Parking and turning his bike off, as passersby from both sides of the street stopped and murmured to one another about the big biker dude who had grace their town. Taker just smiled. He was use to the talk and stares by now.

He dismounted his bike, taking off his shades and stared at the people who seemed more rude then any he had encountered, they had stopped everything they were doing to watch as he drove in and came to a halt in front of the general store.

None came by to greet him as he toss a quick smile or two. They just continued to look on and murmur. He shook his head looking down at the ground smiling and spitting out a big hunk of chew, as he replace his shades back on his face. He left the side of his bike, walked up the couple of steps and made his way into the store.

Inside it was like an old-fashioned store. He asked the storekeeper where his beer was located. He snobbishly pointed over to a corner as he glared at Taker. He came to the counter with a pack of beer and asked for some pretzels he saw in a jar. He looked down at a small child holding a kitten, looking at a jar of red lips. He wasn’t sure if they were candy or not. But the child seemed very interested in them.

The storekeeper noticed the child for the first time and began shooing the child away, hurling abuse at her. The child backed away with tears forming in her eyes. Taker felt himself getting angry at the treatment of the child by the storekeeper.

He beckon for him to give him a couple of the lips in the jar. The man went to say something, but Taker cut him off with one of his stares. The storekeeper decided to oblige. Taker took them in his hand and realized they were wax lips, he handed them to the child, whose mother had just came around the corner to witness the exchange. She smiled politely at him and took her daughter with her out of the store. It was evident she was one of the poorer families in the town and being snubbed by the good people of the town.

Taker paid for his beer and left the store. He watched as the mother and daughter scurried down the street. The little girl turned and gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen. He felt all fuzzy inside.

He took off his shades once again and looked up to the flag swaying in the wind above the little store. He looked around at the townspeople, standing about treating him like an alien from another planet. And the mistreatment of others less fortunate as them. Then he wondered, if they knew for what it is that flag stood. Taker jumped back on his bike and left the little town behind.

He sat under the tree drinking his beer. Ah! Now this is the place to be. As he watched the people rushing up and down the sidewalks, the toxic smell of the city. People on the street corner trying to con someone out of their money.

Cars crowding the street bumper to bumper, blowing their horns and drivers spraying obscenities one to another. Bums sleeping on the park benches. Kids on bikes and skates. People saying a howdy-do as they pass by each other.

Yes, he thought as he stretched out, hands behind his head and looked at the flag blowing in the breeze, hanging from the pole in the middle of the city park.