Always awesome to find a Honda weaved into a story!
This time we stumbled upon a book named "Sinister Bedfellows: Anthology" which you can find in Google Books.

The Braunaugh kid met me at the old Millcreek Bridge waving his pudgy little hands over his head. He wore the same faded red and white short set he had played in yesterday. I slowed my Honda P50 moped to a stop, kicking up dust and gravel from the dirt road. "Sir, sir," he said. "Them UFOs done made waffle marks on my yard." I didn't know why he called me sir. I was only a couple of years older, but Papa said he was a bit slow and it be best not to worry over too much of what the boy talked about. "Let's go see," I said. I helped him onto the back and the pungent smell of medicines and dirty diapers overpowered the little moped's exhaust fumes. Mama said Billy always smelled that way because his shitter didn't work the way God intended. I gave the Honda all the gas she could handle. I knew that sick kid stench was gonna wear off onto me. I didn't want Billy's mama trying to fix my shitter too.

Now go get the book and start reading!