Beyond Our Control

“Does the information I gave you worry you?”
“Huh?” I asked, looking up at the expressionless person from where I sat.
The person didn’t repeat himself verbatim, which was nice. She worded it in a different way.
“This is a lot for anyone to process. Are you at all distressed by what I’ve told you?”
Distressed? Well, just a bit, I was distressed. Sitting here in a dirty alleyway, I thought about how things went down over the past few hours. I didn’t expect all this, I was just in bed after a long days work. To some degree, I felt cheated. But I knew there wasn’t much I could do, if I really was in danger right at this moment. Not just myself, but this strange person too. Honestly, at this point I figured I might as well trust this person, whomever or whatever she was.
Someone had indeed tried to break into my apartment garage. Seeing some tough characters were the perpetrators and this person had saved my life, I didn’t have to think too hard to figure out who the bad guys and the good guys were. Not much of this story made sense to me, but after seeing how she clearly could transform into a fully functioning motorcycle, I figured it was best to just go with the flow. So here I was, protecting someone I didn’t even know from a corporation that didn’t even affiliate with people like me. I stood up, reaching my hand out toward this person. She reached for her bag but I stopped her.
“Hold on a sec,” I kept my hand extended, “I want to help you. I do want to know some things first.”
The person looked at me, then shook my hand, so I guessed she was giving me the ok to speak.
“Did you change in my garage because you’re on the run?”
The person nodded.
“What do you plan to do?”
The person looked down. As metallic as she was, I wondered if she was showing some emotions now.
“I do not know.”
“I don’t know everything about your story,” I said after a minute, “but I’ll do what I can to help.”
The person changed into a motorcycle, and the helmet appearing in front of me.
“Wait a minute,” I said, talking to the motorcycle, “what do I call you again?”
Suzuki-Takanova.
I thought for a moment then said, “how about ‘Suzuki’? It’d be easier.”
There was a pause, then the motorcycle answered.
Compliance.

I yawned inside my helmet.
Take the next right to the park here. You can rest.
I wasn’t sure what time it was. I knew the cars were thinning out on the road; it made me feel conspicuous. Once I pulled over, I scooted Suzuki behind some bushes before lying down on the grass. Suzuki stayed in his motorcycle form, which seemed like a wise choice.
“What will we do tomorrow?”
Do you know any place that could take me in for the time being? I’ve calculated that the men who tried to kill you earlier will monitor your house.
“Am I safe on my own? Like when I go back to school tomorrow?” I asked, looking over at him.
Correct. So long as I’m not in your possession you’ll be safe. They have no means of believing you have anything to do with my escapism. You’re merely a bystander to them.
I thought. There were countless places and people I was sure I could talk to. But which one would be safest?
“I think I know a place.” I said.
We sat there in silence for a moment. I was glad I had the time to do so, because I got to process everything then. As much as this was an inconvenience, this person needed help. Who was I to deny anyone help? And it wasn’t like I’d be in this forever. I’d be safe while at school too. Feeling a bit relaxed, I stood up, stretched, then thought of a series of routes we could take that would keep us in the dark for the rest of the night.
“Ok, let’s go.”