A young boy and girl ran down the backyard, sailing through the sea of grass. The boy sprinted across the yard, his black hair scraping along the sky. The girl let her scarlet hair flow with the wind, clutching a daffodil in her hands and scattering the snowy seeds to the wind. With his emerald green eyes, the father watched them both through his bushy brown eyebrows, then lept up in surprise, as the boy had jumped into a lake, splashing the water all over the jacket he wore. "John! Don't soak my jacket!"
"Why not, Dad?! It's just some old artifact." The father's hands rose up to meet his face, then his body drooped with exhaustion.
"It's not just any old artifact," he snapped. "It's my most prized jacket!"
"Yeah right!" John mocked, his verdant eyes staring in defiance of his father. "Black with red laces, more metal spikes than a porcupine, and skulls galore! So professional!"
The father yelled, "You brat! Don't mock a family heirloom! This jacket was passed to me from my father, who received it from his mother!" The father grabbed the jacket off John and set it on the clothes rack to dry.
As he lay down on the wooden porch in his rocking chair, the father remembered the conversations he often had with his brother. "Hey, Jim," Charlie would say, "next time you ride with the mechanics, invite me along, okay?" Jim chuckled. "If you don't barf up your food like last time, I'll take you." Charlie's face burned firetruck red, and then he remembered something.
"Oh, yeah. When are you going to pass that coat down to Ally? She's already 16." Jim's face turned to stone.
"I don't know, Charlie. Of course tradition's important, but..." He paused, the gears turning over and over in his mind.
"She's got her own life to live, and she hates all things relating to motorcycles. Wants to become some kind of an artist or musician or something. If only Diana were around."
Charlie sprang up in his seat, and whispered, "Keep your voice down! You want the kids to find out about Diana? That woman's a disgrace to our Tulloch family! Don't forget what she almost did to your workshop!" A spiteful smirk stretched across Jim's face.
"Don't worry. Old elephants like us never forget."
"Hey, look! It's Uncle Charlie!" Ally exclaimed. The familiar black van pulled into the driveway, with the same model and make that the family had seen so many times. The father grinned and opened his mouth to welcome his brother back from vacation. It's odd, Jim thought. Charlie usually goes on foot. He only brings the van when he's going somewhere. As the kids ran to the van to welcome Charlie, a woman jumped out of Charlie's van, grabbed Ally, pulled her into the van, and drove off. The father's smile became a face of disbelief as he struggled to understand what had happened.
"Diana?"
Ally's cerulean eyes examined the inside of the stranger's van. Crap, this is so much like Uncle Charlie's van! The teddy bear he won at the state fair is still on the top shelf. The stain on the mat John made 2 years ago-ew-it's still there. Actually, that's gross. Charlie should clean the mat, or the whole place'll stink of..
Her thoughts were interrupted by a bump in the road. Every single thing Ally had seen multiple times, it was there in Charlie's - no, the stranger's - van. She looked at the middle-aged, brown-haired, blue eyed woman.
The father rushed to his garage and got his motorcycle. He saddled onto the silver steed of death and revved the engine. Before chasing after the woman on his motorcycle, he pulled out his phone and called Jones, the boss of the workshop: "There's a woman who stole my kids. I need some backup here."
The vice-chief replied, "Don't worry, Jim. We'll get Ally back for you. Where'd she go?"
The father stated: "The woman's going down 5th fast, trying to get on the highway. Block her at 2nd and bring your bullets. Prepare for a firework party." Jones responded: "Got it, Jim."
Jim hung up and drove his motorcycle in pursuit of Diana.
Jones hung up, then turned to his men. "Boys, we have a mission today. Some fancy lady kidnapped Jim's daughter, Ally. We'll need to teach that kidnapper a lesson. " The mechanics fixed up the spare motorcycles they had in the shop, rolled out from their abandoned warehouse, and drove toward 2nd Street. A police car was keeping watch on 4th Street, and the policeman watched the van speeding past. "50 miles on a 40-mile road. Let's book this fool." The car drove in pursuit of the van, ready to arrest her. The police, motor club, kidnapper, everyone met up on 2nd Street.
"This is the police! Come out and put your hands up!"
The mechanics arrived, ready to cause mayhem. "Come out of there, woman!" Jones yelled. He banged on the side of the van so loud that a policeman pulled out his gun.
"We will shoot in 10 seconds if you do not exit the vehicle!" The woman strolled out of the van, and watched as the father pulled up next to the vehicle.
"Diana," he barked, "we need to talk about this." As calm as a glacier, she replied, "Very well. I also have much to discuss with you." They both went into the van, where they conversed for a while. Both the police and the bikers wished to go in and apprehend the woman, but they were too cautious of each other to attempt it. Finally, silence fell on the van for a few minutes, followed by a barrage of shots. Ally staggered out of the van, letting out a bloodcurdling yell. Wrapped in her father's dripping scarlet jacket, she ran to Jones's comforting arms and flooded them with tears.
