“I’ll know.”
The four generators went into the storage shed behind the Boone house.
For eight weeks, Cedric worked almost every evening.
The first thing he did was remove identification plates and write each serial number in his notebook.
Then he disassembled the machines systematically.
No random piles.
Engine components in one section.
Electrical components in another.
Hardware cleaned and sorted.
Usable.
Questionable.
Scrap.
Raymond visited once during the second week.
He stood inside the shed and looked at the four stripped frames.
“You buy a business?”
Cedric laughed.
“Thirty-one sixty.”
“For all of it?”
“Yes.”
Raymond looked again.
“Maybe you did.”
Cedric pointed toward a rotor.
“This one tests good.”
“Good compared to what?”
Cedric reached for his notebook.
Raymond nodded.
Better.
The carburetor from the second generator took an entire evening to clean.
Cedric almost damaged the needle valve when a stubborn deposit refused to move.
He stopped.
Walked away.
Returned thirty minutes later.
Patience was still the hardest skill.
A stator winding from another unit tested within acceptable range.
One regulator was beyond practical repair.
Several capacitors remained useful.
Starter components survived.
He ordered $12.85 worth of replacement parts from a catalog.
The waiting irritated him more than the work.
During that time, he cleaned everything again.
Rechecked connections.
Studied manuals.
Built the first functional unit from components that had originally belonged to three different machines.
The first attempt failed.
Engine turned.
No stable output.
Cedric felt his stomach drop.
For ten minutes, Blaine’s laughter returned in his head.
Then Raymond’s voice replaced it.
What is still working?
Cedric started over.
Ignition was good.
Fuel delivery good.
Engine speed stable.
Mechanical rotation good.
The failure had to be further downstream.
He traced the system.
Found a connection he had assembled incorrectly.
Corrected it.
Tried again.
The generator came alive.
Not dramatically.
No explosion of triumph.
It coughed.
Shook.
Settled.
Cedric connected a single one-hundred-watt bulb.
The filament glowed.
Then held.
Steady.
He stared at it for nearly a minute.
Howard stepped into the shed.
Saw the light.
Then saw his son.
“That one of Blaine’s dead machines?”
Cedric nodded.
Howard smiled.
“Want me to drive you into town?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Howard looked at the bulb again.
“Your mother wants to know if this thing’s going to burn the house down.”
“Tell her no.”
“You tell her.”
Cedric laughed.
After Howard left, Cedric opened the notebook.
He did not write:
I proved Blaine wrong.
He documented the repair.
Initial condition.
Usable components.
Failed components.
Replacement costs.
Labor estimate.
Testing procedure.