For several seconds Frank remained still, stung by the fact that Jim was taking the child seriously. Then habit overtook pride. He isolated the electrical system and made certain the motorcycle was stable before anyone approached the underside. He fetched a small inspection lamp and eased himself down on a creeper. Leon knelt nearby without touching the machine.
"Over there," the boy whispered. "A little farther back."
Frank moved the light. At first all he saw was the familiar grime beneath a forty-year-old engine. The frame tube wore a thick coat of dust, and the fasteners around the mounting point were black with old road oil. Then the beam caught a tiny dull glint between a bolt and the frame. Frank shifted the lamp until he could see what Leon had seen from the floor.
The wire had slipped out of its intended path and become trapped at the mounting point. Its outer covering was worn through, leaving metal exposed where the ignition circuit should have been insulated. It was an obvious problem once the light reached it, and almost invisible from any ordinary standing angle. The fault could interfere with the motorcycle's ignition exactly when the system was trying to produce a spark.
Frank stopped breathing for a moment. He moved the lamp closer, examined the damage, and felt the sickening recognition of a problem simple enough to hide behind a mountain of complications. He had chased three faults that mattered and one he had created himself by rushing. He had replaced parts, checked expensive possibilities, and made assumptions because his experience told him what was likely. The boy had simply watched what was there.
"Well," Frank said at last. The word came out so softly that nobody understood him.
Jim eased closer, careful of his hip. "What is it?"
Frank sat up slowly. "Damaged ignition wire. It's been pinched against the frame."
Wilson's smile disappeared. Cole craned his neck to see past the workbench. Jim stared at Frank and then at the child, his expression so difficult to read that Leon almost stepped backward. "That's what stopped it?" Jim asked.
"It could be," Frank answered. He shook his head. "I should've found it."
Jim looked at Leon. "He did."
There was no triumph in the words. That made them harder for Frank to hear. He had known for years that failing to find a fault did not mean being a bad mechanic. He had said it to apprentices and customers alike. Yet under Jim's gaze and in front of the child he had repeatedly silenced, the truth tasted bitter.
"Let's fix it properly and confirm," Frank said.
He fetched the appropriate repair materials, cut away the damaged section, and restored the wiring while Jim held the inspection light. He checked the surrounding hardware, secured the cable away from the place that had trapped it, and inspected the rest of the visible run to make sure the same problem would not recur. He worked more slowly than he had all week. When the repair was complete, he tested the circuit again before reconnecting what he had isolated.