“Put it right here,” Hawk said. “I wanna see the cocksucker’s mouth get a little more—how you call it? Lubrication.”

“Huh?” the nigger said.

“Piss on my fuckin’ dick, nigger! Is that so goddamn strange?”

“It’ll get your pants wet,” the nigger said.

“Aw, man—”

“All right, all right,” the nigger said.

“I been pissed on before,” Hawk said. “You know how we initiate a guy in the Phantoms, man?—right here, that’s it.” His knuckle prodded my mouth, stretched with his cock and thumb. The nigger’s knee was right next to my elbow.

It hit the side of my nose first, then my cheek.

“On his mouth, nigger—yeah! We get a guy in his new jeans and his new jacket, and first he’s gotta take his bike apart, change the oil in the crank case, empty the front and back forks, do a complete overhaul so we know—”

“Man, why don’t you fuck the kid’s face and cut this—”

“You just keep pissin’, nigger. And lemme do my thing?”

“Okay,” the nigger said. “All right. See, I’m pissin’!”

I had to bend to the side to get a breath. Hawk pulled me back, and I was bubbling through my nose. His belt was wet. I could see flames glitter in the brass: “—a complete overhaul now, so we’ll know he knows the bike. We got this big hanger out in Rye Hill that’s the clubhouse. And after he gets his bike apart, all the pieces all out over the drop cloth—and them jeans don’t look all that new no more—we all have a drink. And then the guy starts puttin’ his chopper back together. Only then we make him take another drink, see. And maybe a couple more. And him still down there workin’ and tryin’ to get his pins in place and his gaskets aligned. Good guys’d get it about two-thirds done before they realized what was happening, you know? And then they’d look around the drop, man, and see about three hundred little screws and nuts and cover plates and body-rings and ratchet-pins; then they’d realize how drunk they was—‘Get it fixed, motherfucker, before you pass out! And have another drink!’ Then we’d really go to town. Oh man, watchin’ a drunk, dirty biker tryin’ to put in the last fifty nuts and bolts can about get me off without even touchin’ myself, you know? Just standin’ around and watchin’.”

“Don’t you do nothin’ more’n that?” the nigger asked.