“Then what?”
Jim thought.
“Advance gratitude.”
“For something I haven't done.”
“Then don't make me regret it.”
Leo finally nodded.
Jim stood.
“Tomorrow. Dawn.”
Rusty said, “You coming?”
“No.”
Jim looked at the FXR.
“If I stand here, everybody's going to think about me instead of the bike.”
That was unexpectedly wise.
“I'll be back Friday at noon.”
Jim's riders started toward their motorcycles.
Before leaving, Jim looked at Leo once more.
“Your father ever tell you what Dutch called him?”
Leo shook his head.
“Professor.”
Leo smiled.
“He would have hated that.”
“That's why Dutch called him that.”
The motorcycles roared out of the lot.
For several minutes afterward, nobody at Apex spoke.
Then Rusty looked at Leo.
“You have any idea what you've just done?”
Leo looked at the hundred-dollar bill.
“Maybe.”
“No.”
Rusty pointed toward the FXR.
“You just convinced a room full of adult men that tomorrow we're taking apart something we've already rebuilt twice because you remember stories your father told you.”
Leo nodded.
“When you say it that way, it sounds bad.”
Tommy burst out laughing.
Even Rusty eventually joined him.
That night, Leo and his mother ate steak.
Not at an expensive restaurant.
Leo did not want to waste the money.
They went to a small diner several blocks from their apartment.
His mother ordered chicken at first because it was cheaper.
Leo pushed the menu toward her.
“Mr. Jim said steak.”
“Mr. Jim does not control my dinner.”
“He's really big.”
She smiled for the first time that evening.
“Fine.”
They split one steak, added mashed potatoes, and took half home.
Leo told her about the motorcycle.
He did not tell the story dramatically.
That worried her more.
“You're not taking apart an engine.”
“No.”
“You're eight.”
“I know.”
“You are not using cutting tools.”
“I know.”
“You are not going underneath anything heavy.”
“I know.”
“You are not—”
“Mom.”
She stopped.
“Rusty will be there.”
“That does not make me feel better.”
“Mr. Dave too.”
“Even worse.”
Leo smiled.
Then her expression softened.
“You really think your dad knew this bike?”
Leo looked down at his food.
“He talked about it all the time.”
She remembered.
Arthur talking through dinner about cam timing, metal fatigue, ignition advance, fuel mixture, temperatures, tolerances.
She had understood perhaps ten percent.
Leo had sat beside him absorbing everything.
Arthur would take a broken carburetor apart at the kitchen table and let Leo hand him pieces.
He made the boy identify parts by shape before he learned their names.
Once she complained that their son was too young.
Arthur smiled and said, “Then he won't remember.”
Leo remembered.
Everything, apparently.
“He would be proud of you,” she said.
Leo's fork stopped.
“You think?”
“I know.”
He looked away quickly.
At dawn Wednesday, Apex Iron Works was already open.
Rusty had barely slept.
Neither had Big Dave.
Tommy appeared carrying coffee strong enough to strip paint.
Pete arrived first and pretended that did not mean he was interested.
Leo walked through the side door at 6:07.
Clean face.
Same oversized clothing.
Small battered flashlight in one pocket.
Rusty glanced at the clock.
“You said dawn.”
“The bus was late.”