The apartment was a huge three-bedroom that ran from a sunroom in the front down the line of a long hallway with rooms off the side to the kitchen in the back, which had a bedroom coming off of it. Three of them lived there. It was Kit and Dean, and a woman name Emma, who I hadn't heard anything about except that she knew people in the comic book scene that Kate and Blake operated in, so we had to be careful about how we acted around her. It was really the first time since I'd met Kate that I had to engage in any kind of subterfuge with her. It was only about the second time that we'd ever hung out with other people we knew around. I think it's a big test for lovers. Anybody can do it behind closed doors. My sister made a cool and simple test for love. Two questions. Does your lover make you feel good? I mean really make you feel good inside. That's the first. When you are with them in public are you proud? That's the second question. It's always worked pretty well for me. I don't ever heed the feedback my answers give me, but that test has never lied to me without me lying to myself pretty badly first.

The apartment was hot. I'd forgotten how hot city life is in the summer. Boston hadn't really gotten warm before I left. That's the thing about Boston. It's not really hot til about the middle of July. Growing up in D.C. summer is late June on through September and it just keeps getting hotter and hotter and more and more humid. Boston's nice that way. Chicago isn't. We lay around in the front room where the windows were and the girls and boys talked to each other. I pretty much kept my mouth shut cause I figured I'd had a good start with Kate's friends and I should just go along for the ride. What's not to like about a quiet motorcycle dude? Emma came in and joined us after a while. She was really excited about the bike.

In Chapter VIII Giles and Kate part ways with a kiss and Giles rides off into the Great Wide Open of the American West to seek his destiny.

Monday, July 12th, Chicago, IL to Orfordville, WI. We woke up late, the sun baking us through the back window in Dean's room and illuminating the scrawled blue-dog-on-green-field painting that hung from the second hand easel. I crawled on top of Kate and held her head in my hands and stared at her.
    "So this is it," I said. "My last licks."
    "Don't go," she said. "Stay one more day."
    "If I stay we'll have to do what we're doing now tomorrow. It'll just get worse."

    "Hey pop."

    "Hey G."
    "Any news?"

    "Not yet. They'll call sometime this afternoon."
    "How're you holding up?"
    "I'm alright," he said. "It'll be better once we know. I'd rather just deal with it than wonder about it."
    "Yeah. Well I just wanted to call and check in. I'm about to ride out of Chicago."
    "What's Chicago like these days?"
    "I don't know," I said. "Seems pretty cool. More affordable than most places and a lot of young people."
    "Careful. They're all from the Midwest. You can't trust those people."
    I laughed.
    "Yeah, well. You can't trust anybody."
    "Ain't that the truth. Can't even trust your gut."

My given name is John Giles Reynolds Morris, after John Giles Reynolds, a great great on my dad's side. He was blinded at the battle of Cold Harbor during the siege of Richmond. Sheila is the only one who calls me John Giles. It started when she was cross with me as a little kid and now it is in fun.
    "Hi there."
    Eric ambled out with his bemused grin, his pipe clamped in the side of his teeth, his eyes searching the bike out.
    "What do we have here?"
    "It's an old Honda Nighthawk."
    "Hmm. Doesn't look too dangerous. Or pretty for that matter."
    "It works really good."