The new school year had begun. And it was on a day that Simi chose not to walk directly home after the bus left her in the little square of Madrid. That was the afternoon she met Jaylon. At least that was what he told her his name was. It was the sound of his motorcycle that got her to turn and leap up onto the curb for safety. The young man who nearly ran her over seemed to be like a character in a move. His powerful Harley Davidson motor bike had just roared up to the edge of the street where she was standing, now frightened.

Its rider was motionless and, disturbingly, he just sat back  and stared at her. It was this intense look of his. The initial presentation that Simi would never forget--the shoulder length black hair, the scruffy, unshaven face. But it was also the attitude. He wore the typical black leathers of a biker, yet there was something else which gave the young man only several years older than her a menacing aura. A look that caused her to want to run. Though frightful, however, there was also this uncanny characteristic of the boy in him which strangely captivated her to stay. The young ruffian had the most remarkable steel grey eyes. They seemed animal-like to her, but could quickly soften and speak non-threateningly. Jaylon's stare was now direct and inquisitive. And he just continued to sit on his bike, letting its low throttled engine to idle, as if he waited for her to speak first.

"Can I help you?" she managed to finally ask over the roar of the syncopated engine.

The unfamiliar biker to the town--perhaps nineteen years old, stared back, still searching into her eyes. Finally, looking to be satisfied that she was who he had singled out on the street, he spoke.

"Your name . . . Simi?"

She felt a chill come over her as he asked this, already knowing her name. Instantly, however, Simi's composure and strong confidence came back to her. It gave her the presence of mind to be perfectly evasive.

"Well. . . I might go by that name," she said calmly. "I suppose it depends on . . . who wants to know."

The steely look on the young man's face morphed into the hint of a smile. He then turned off the deafening engine of his motorbike.

"Jaylon," he said softly. My name is Jaylon."

He took the time to slowly remove one of his black leather gloves and reached out for her hand in a surprisingly formal and ancient gesture of greeting. It was not what Simi had known or seen young people do, and this once more put her on alert as to his origins and purpose. She also noticed a heavy silver ring on his now-bare right hand. It had the design of a bird or a dragon on it, but he moved too quickly for her to peruse it carefully.

"You're a stranger to Madrid," she told him, in a much quieter voice, now not competing with the loud engine. "I pretty much can recognize everyone in this town . . . except for the tourists in the summer. But they've all mostly left by now. So  who . . ."

"Well you might say I'm just a tourist then," Jaylon answered back, dismissively."

"You might . . . say you are? . . . or you are?"

"Look. Simi. I was told I could find you here. Returning about this time . . . from your school. So I guess I just have. Right?"

Again a wave of fear rippled up her back and neck as the stranger let on that he not only knew  her name, but her movements.

"OK." She said boldly. So are you going to tell me why you . . ."

Just then Jaylon held up his ringed hand to silence her. Simi could see it was indeed a silver ring molded into the shape of a dragon.

"Hold on!"  he said in an excited whisper. He then looked around searchingly in the stillness. "I'm feeling something . . ."

"Feeling?"

At that moment a car could be seen approaching them. It slowed down as it passed by, and Simi could see one of the men who had been menacing her last year in the company of another unfamiliar face. They drove the car very near to the curb. It passed within inches of Jaylon's bike before it quickly sped up and drove out of sight.

Jaylon smiled more fully at her and nodded.

"Yup . . .  See, I had them pegged before they even made it around the corner. He began putting his glove back on.

Simi was astonished by what had just happened.

"These are the ones bothering you. At least some of them. Right? "

"Well. . . Yes. I mean. OK. I've seen one of them before."

"And they do  threaten you. Like just now. Right?  Make you feel unwanted. Isn't that right, Simi?"

She was agitated now by his questioning.

"Yes. Sometimes. But . . . how did you know that?"

"It's an old game. Older than you would believe, but now . . . I'm in it. And I'm always in it to win."

Jaylon put his foot on a silver pedal of his bike. He rose up, and came back down on it with all his weight. The Harley started back up with a growl--seemingly even louder than before.

"I'll explain everything. But later," he shouted over the din of the accelerating engine.

He looked at her now more seriously and in total silence with his disarming gray eyes.

"That is . . . if you really want to know."  The hint of a playful smile came back to the young man's rugged face. "But Just not today. Alright? It's a busy time for me right now."

Simi was totally perplexed at what had just happened. What Jaylon had just told her.

"Just know  that I 'm here now. In the game . . . on the case . . . OK?"

She was still speechless with curiosity. About who he was. What he had meant with those words?

"And that's something your lovely  enemies . . . who just passed by . . . are not too happy about right now. "

The mysterious young man smiled broadly as if he had just been given a sporting challenge. He then focused on the roadway, revved-up his bike once more, and sped away. Simi just watched, Jaylon's hair flying back toward her like a dark, indeterminable flag.

* * *

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