Arty had rented Bay Fourteen from the building's previous owner years before Rusty bought Apex.
He worked alone.
Never advertised.
Yet motorcycles appeared there from riders who crossed three counties specifically for him.
Then cancer came.
First came the coughing.
Then the weight loss.
Then days missed.
Eventually the bay emptied.
Or Rusty thought it had.
Arthur died two years earlier.
Leo had started appearing around Apex months afterward.
At first, Rusty found him watching through the fence.
Then sitting on an overturned bucket outside.
Eventually he discovered the boy's mother worked long shifts and struggled with child care after school.
Rusty made a loose arrangement.
Leo could sit in the office, do homework, sweep lightly, organize harmless items, and eat dinner with the crew.
Nobody called it charity.
Especially not in front of Leo.
Rusty gave him a few dollars now and then for simple chores.
Mostly because the boy hated receiving anything free.
Until that afternoon, Rusty believed Leo simply liked motorcycles because his father had.
Now he began wondering how much the child had actually absorbed.
Jim stepped toward Leo.
“You think you can fix Dutch's bike?”
Rusty interrupted.
“Jim.”
Jim ignored him.
Leo looked at the motorcycle for a long time.
Then said, “I can't do all the work.”
That answer surprised everyone.
He could have bragged.
He did not.
“My hands aren't strong enough.”
Leo lifted them.
Small fingers.
Grease beneath the nails.
“I can't torque the heavy stuff. And some of the parts are too heavy.”
Jim nodded.
“But?”
“I know what Dad knew about this bike.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
The honesty made Jim lean closer.
Leo continued.
“But I know more than the manual does.”
That was the sentence that decided it.
Jim stood.
He faced Rusty.
“The kid doesn't wrench alone.”
“Obviously.”
“You and your people supervise everything.”
Rusty stared at him.
“You're serious.”
“I am.”
“Jim, do you understand the liability of letting an eight-year-old direct mechanical work on—”
“He isn't directing the shop.”
Jim looked toward Leo.
“He's telling you what his father knew.”
Rusty rubbed both hands across his face.
Jim's voice softened.
“You've got nothing else.”
That hurt because it was true.
Rusty looked at his mechanics.
Big Dave shrugged.
Tommy said, “We're already beaten.”
Pete added, “Kid found a switch I missed.”
Rusty looked at the bike.
Then Leo.
“All right.”
Leo blinked.
“All right what?”
“You think you know what your dad did to this machine?”
Leo nodded.
“Then tomorrow morning you show us.”
Jim reached inside his vest.
He took out a folded hundred-dollar bill.
Leo stared at it when Jim placed it in his hand.
“I can't take this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“For what?”
“Dinner.”
Leo looked confused.
Jim crouched again.
“You eat?”
“Yes.”
Jim glanced at the child's frame.
“Regularly?”
Leo's pride appeared immediately.
“Yes.”
Rusty looked away.
Jim understood enough.
“Buy dinner for you and your mother.”
Leo tried to hand the money back.
Jim closed the boy's fingers around it.
“Not payment.”
Leo looked at him.