“I already work.”
“I heard.”
“I can’t move.”
“Why?”
“My grandmother.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Then we discuss that.”
Owen did not reach for the card yet.
Eleanor liked that too.
“What kind of training?”
“Paid apprenticeship.”
“Paid?”
“Yes.”
“Housing?”
“If you need it.”
“I need to keep helping my grandmother.”
“Then that becomes part of the conversation.”
Owen looked at her.
“Why me?”
Eleanor glanced toward Black Fury.
“You didn’t guess.”
“I did a little.”
“Everyone guesses.”
She smiled.
“The difference is you knew where guessing ended and testing began.”
Owen took the card.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She pointed at him.
“If you call, I’m going to work you harder than that crowd did.”
Owen smiled for the first time.
“That’s fine.”
Garrett looked toward the olive-green toolbox.
“T. Fletcher.”
“Yes.”
Garrett nodded toward Black Fury.
“My father’s name was Samuel.”
Owen waited.
“He taught me this bike.”
Garrett touched the tank.
“Not the way your father taught you. I mostly held the flashlight and annoyed him.”
Owen smiled slightly.
“Still counts.”
Garrett looked at him for several seconds.
Then said:
“You got somewhere to be?”
“Home.”
“Where?”
“East side.”
“I’ll drive you.”
Owen shook his head immediately.
“No.”
Garrett almost laughed.
“Fair.”
He looked toward the bike.
“Then let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“What do I owe you if I want you to go through the whole motorcycle?”
Owen looked at the five thousand dollars in his hand.
“You just paid me.”
“That was the bet.”
“So?”
“I’m asking for work now.”
Owen thought.
“Forty an hour.”
The entire crowd reacted.
Eleanor nearly laughed.
Garrett stared.
“Forty?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what shops charge?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why forty?”
Owen shrugged.
“I don’t have a shop.”
Garrett looked toward Nolan.
Nolan shook his head.
“Kid, charge him more.”
Owen frowned.
Garrett laughed.
A real laugh.
The first one all evening.
“Hundred an hour.”
“I didn’t ask for that.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because now we’re negotiating.”
Owen looked at Eleanor.
She smiled.
“First business lesson.”
They settled at seventy-five.
Owen left the Iron Rail at 9:12 that night.
Not on Garrett’s motorcycle.
Not surrounded by cheering people.
He walked.
The same way he had arrived.
The five thousand dollars sat deep inside his backpack.
Eleanor’s card was inside his wallet.
His father’s toolbox hung from his right hand.
The library book was stained with oil.
He would have to pay for that.
At home, Ruth Fletcher was sitting at the kitchen table.
Their apartment was on the third floor of a tired brick building near Chene Street.
Ruth was seventy-one.
She had arthritis in both hands, high blood pressure, and a habit of staying awake until Owen returned despite his repeated requests that she sleep.
She looked at the clock.
“Eleven minutes late.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
Owen placed the backpack down.
“Motorcycle.”
Ruth stared.
“That sentence has never once led to something inexpensive.”
Owen laughed.
Then placed the roll of cash on the table.
Ruth froze.
“What is that?”
“Money.”
“I can see that.”
“Five thousand.”
Her face changed.
“Owen.”
“It’s legal.”