NORTHERN EXPOSURE: FISH STORY (3/14/94)




 
RUTH-ANNE HITS THE ROAD ON CHRIS' HARLEY


Ruth-Anne, exasperated with the customers in her store, shoos
them out and locks up. She's crossing the street just as Shelly
and her baby, accompanied by Chris, walk up.


Shelly: Hey. Isn't that Ruth-Anne?

Chris: Yeah.

Shelly: Isn't that your bike?

Chris: Yeah.


Ruth-Anne, riding Chris' battleship gray Harley-Davidson FLH,
roars out of Cicely as Shelly and Chris look on.

Later, while piloting the Shovelhead on a lonely highway out
along the forest, Ruth-Anne passes a red Chevrolet flatbed
truck and continues speeding down the road. 

Darkness falls as the neon 'Last Call Bar' sign flashes its
stars. A 'Silver Bullet' neon sign is dislayed in the window
and, inside, Ruth-Anne is sitting in a booth.


Waitress: Everything all right?

Ruth-Anne: No. Everything is not all right. I ordered this
                  steak rare and this is medium. And don't reheat
                  those fries, I want a fresh batch.

Waitress: Yes, ma'am.

Ruth-Anne: And here. (hands over shot glass) This time put a 
                   full two jiggers in, will you?


A wiry, hard-looking man, Turk, wearing leathers approaches 
Ruth-Anne with two others; Frog, with an eye-patch and a
bigger, bearded guy, Tiny. 


Turk: Is that your Shovelhead out there?

Ruth-Anne: Excuse me?

Turk: The Harley. Is it yours?

Ruth-Anne: Yes.

Turk: It was blocking the handicapped ramp. We moved it for you.

Ruth: Thanks.


Turk sits down across from Ruth while the other two grab their
own table behind Turk.


Turk: (looking at Tiny) What?

Tiny: (holds palms out and innocently shakes his head) 

Waitress: (puts glass in front of Ruth-Anne) Double Wild Turkey,
               neat. Gentlemen?
 
Turk: You know what we want, girl. And make it fast. 

Turk: (to Ruth-Anne) That's some bike you got there, Ma.

Ruth-Anne: Nothing to that big Knucklehead I used to ride.

Tiny: Yeah? What year?

Ruth-Anne: '48 

Tiny: Chopped?

Ruth-Anne: Extended front end. Bobbed fenders.

Turk: Is that your old man's bike or yours?

Ruth-Anne: My old man wouldn't go near it. Scared the hell
                   out of him.


The guys laugh over her response.


Turk: Maybe you heard of us. We're the Diablos.

Ruth-Anne: (shakes her head)

Frog: "Terror of the Tundra". That's what the Sleetmute
         Sentinel called us.

Tiny: Maggots.

Turk: (pushes waitresses' hand from his can of bud) Leave it!

Turk: (to Ruth-Anne) Where you headed, Ma?

Ruth-Anne: Wherever.

Turk: Yeah. I can dig it. Tell you what, how'd you like to
         ride with the Diablos tonight?
 
Frog: We're jamming with the Rattlers, gonna run the Gauntlet
         to Delta Junction.

Ruth-Anne: The Gauntlet?

Frog: Open throttle all the way.

Tiny: No stops.

Ruth-Anne: But you have to go through Greeley, don't you? 
                   There's a state police station in Greeley.

Frog: (burping) Greeley.

Tiny: We own Greeley, man!

Turk: So what do you say, Ma? You feel like getting down?


The Diablos and Ruth-Anne stop their Harleys on an unpaved
road out in the wilderness and shut off their motors.


Tiny: (to Frog) So where's the Rattlers, man?

Frog: Those skanks are always late.

Tiny: Well, they had better not be too late. I got to take
        Courtney to the Orthodontist tomorrow.

Frog: Braces?

Tiny: No. Palate extenders.

Frog: Her teeth look OK to me.

Turk: (to Ruth-Anne) How they hanging, Ma?

Ruth-Anne: (gestures OK with a smile)

Turk: How come we never seen you before?

Ruth-Anne: I've been stuck behind a counter, I guess. I realized
                   as we were riding up here, I've been in Cicely longer
                   than I've been anyplace in my entire life.
                   

Turk's cell phone starts ringing. He picks it up. 


Turk: Yeah? Shut up, men. I can't hear. I hate these damn
         things. (walks away from group) Yeah? Yeah. Yeah. 
        That's much better.

Tiny: Hey, Ma. Let me ask you something.

Ruth-Anne: Shoot.

Tiny: You're in retail, right?

Ruth-Anne: Yeah.

Tiny: Well, I own a couple of snowboard franchises myself.
         Half a dozen employees. This new change to the Medicare
         Tax, is that gonna hurt me?

Ruth-Anne: Not unless you make more than $130,000 in a year.

Tiny: Huh.

Ruth-Anne: All they did was take away the wage limit.

Frog: Told ya', man!

Turk: Son of a bitch!

Tiny: Uh-oh. Turk's pissed.

Turk: They're not coming.

Tiny: What?

Turk: That was Sonny. He's having elective surgery tomorrow.

Tiny: You're kidding?

Turk: He went in for rectal bleeding. Turns out they're gonna
         have to take out part of his colon.

Ruth-Anne: Diverticulitis.

Tiny: The colon? Man!

Turk: All right. Let's burn rubber.

Tiny: Without the Rattlers?

Turk: We're still the Diablos, aren't we? (pauses) We're still
          the Diablos, aren't we?!?!
 
Tiny: Diablos, man!

Frog: All right!


They fire-up their Harley-Davidsons and ride down the road.
Later, with Turk in the lead, they enter a small market with a
young male clerk standing behind the counter.


Turk: (to clerk) Hey, you got any get-well cards?

Clerk: Yeah. (pointing) Over there.

Turk: (to group) Sonny will really appreciate this. He's gonna
         be in the hospital a week.

Frog: (holding card in hand) Hey, this is funny. "Heard you
         got laid-up a week. Hope you get it sideways and upside
         down, too."

Tiny: Hey, that's not funny, man! When you're sick in the
         hospital, a thing like that falls flat.

Ruth-Anne: (handing a card to Turk) Here. Short and sweet.

Turk: (reads it aloud) "Thinking of you. Get well soon."
         Hey, that's it. That says it all. I'll take this one.

Clerk: Uh, anything else?

Frog: Yeah, you got any Mercuric Oxide? Damn sty. I keep
         telling Doreen to get rid of them down pillows.

Clerk: One of two percent?

Frog: Two.

Turk: Okay, let's ride.

Frog: I don't know, Turk.

Turk: What?

Frog: Maybe we ought to cool it tonight, huh?

Turk: What are you saying to me, Frog? What are you telling
         me? Are you telling me that Turk Tortelli doesn't lead
         the Diablos anymore?

Frog: No, Turk.

Turk: Then what are you saying to me, man?

Frog: I'm telling ya', it's not the same without the Rattlers.

Tiny: He's right, Turk. (pauses) I hear they got some pretty
         good frozen yogurt here.


Front of Ravensdale Market shown with the four Harley-Davidsons 
of Ruth-Anne and Diablos parked out in front.


Tiny: (pushes empty yogurt cup on counter) Yo, Monkey Boy.
        Hit me again.

Clerk: I'd really like to close up, fellas.


The Diablos silently stare at the nervous clerk.


Clerk: Macadamia-Vanilla swirl, right?

Turk: (to Ruth-Anne) What's up, Ma? You look a little down.

Ruth-Anne: I think I've run out of road, Turk.

Turk: Metaphorically?

Ruth-Anne: Physically, too. When I left Portland for Cicely,
                   I wanted the wide open spaces. Look at me now.
                  What's left? Vladivotok?

Tiny: But as long as we've got it in here (taps his heart),
         there's always the open road.

Frog: Ma's right, man. Frontier's over. It's history.

Ruth-Anne: We've all read Hunter Thompson. The biker movement
                   was started by dissatisfied G.I.'s who weren't willing to buy
                   into the phony prosperity of the late '40s. 

Frog: Tell it. Hip.

Ruth-Anne: It was a reaction, a revolt.

Frog: Um, you remember Brando's line in "The Wild One"? 

Turk: Dude says, "What are you rebelling against?" Brando
         says, "What do you got?"

Frog: But what does it mean anymore? How can it mean anything
         in a society where lawyers are wearing earrings and
         fashion models tattoos? 

        Have you been in a Harley dealership lately? New Ultra 
        Classic; stock, no chrome, no nothing, listed at $16,000. 
      
       Who's buying these bikes? I'll tell you who: Doctors, Chefs,
        Account Executives. That's who. The affluent middle-class.
        And you want to know what? We're part of it.     

Turk: What if we are? I'll tell you, for the first time in my life, I'm
         happy. Shirley's great. The kids like school. The Dow went
         over 3,900. I mean, what's so bad about feeling good?

Ruth-Anne: Well, I guess the major thing I'm rebelling against
                   is my arthritis.


Turk laughs and raps Ruth-Anne's hand a couple of times.


Tiny: What about the open road, man?

Frog: Ah, jeez. Look at the time.

Turk: Yeah.

Frog: Next Saturday, Turk?

Turk: (checking his schedule) Well, no. Saturday's tight. Rickey's
         soccer team made the playoffs. How about Sunday?

Frog: Okay.

Turk: Tiny?

Tiny: Fine with me.

Turk: Deal.


They leave the market and punch their Harley-Davidsons to life.


Turk: Be good, Ma!

Tiny: And if you can't be good...

Frog: Be quick!


Ruth-Anne pumps her arm into the air. The Diablos ride off into the night
together while Ruth-Anne takes her own road back home to Cicely.


 Chris' 1977 Harley-Davidson FLH 1200. High bid at Northern Exposure Auction in July 1995 was $13,500, but the buyer backed out. Bike was sold at another auction. John Corbett's (Chris Stevens) initials said to have been engraved on gas tank. 


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