The big biker said:
“We'll figure it out.”
Noah wasn't sure what that meant.
But it was enough.
“Thank you.”
He stuffed the money into his pocket.
Then hesitated.
“What’s your name?”
The biker scratched his beard.
“Cole.”
Noah nodded.
“I'm Noah.”
“I know.”
Cole pointed toward the backpack.
Noah looked embarrassed.
“Oh.”
He stepped away.
Then stopped again.
“You don't have to stay all day.”
Cole raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
“No. Just an hour.”
“Why?”
Noah shrugged.
“Seven dollars isn't much.”
Cole smiled for the first time.
It made him look less frightening.
“Kid.”
Noah waited.
“Go home.”
Noah grinned.
He left the diner.
The bell rang behind him.
The second the door closed, nobody at the biker table spoke.
Cole watched the boy walk along the sidewalk through the window.
The red-bearded man finally broke the silence.
“Well.”
Cole looked at him.
“Well what?”
“You’re crying.”
Cole immediately touched his face.
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“Shut up, Mason.”
Another biker laughed.
Mason picked up one of the napkins.
“Need this?”
Cole threw a sugar packet at him.
The laughter lasted only a few seconds.
Then Mason became serious.
“You going?”
Cole looked at him as if the answer were obvious.
“Of course.”
“All of us?”
Cole turned toward the remaining men.
One by one, expressions changed.
Mason nodded.
“You know how many people are coming to the clubhouse tonight?”
“About thirty.”
“Call the others.”
Cole looked through the diner window again.
Noah had reached the crosswalk.
“Every one.”
By seven that evening, forty-seven riders knew.
The phone calls spread quickly.
“Family Day.”
“Elementary school.”
“Kid lost his dad.”
“Mom has to work.”
“Eight thirty.”
“No club colors?”
“School property. Keep it clean.”
“Got it.”
One rider asked:
“How many people does the kid expect?”
Cole answered:
“One.”
That was all anyone needed to hear.
At home, Noah told his mother nothing.
He considered it.
Several times.
But he imagined the questions.
Where did you meet this man?
You talked to strangers?
You offered them money?
Motorcycle club?
Noah decided silence was safer.
His mother came home after nine.
He was sitting at the kitchen table doing math homework.
She looked exhausted.
“You ready for tomorrow?”
Noah nodded.
“You sure you're okay if I can’t get there until lunch?”
“Yeah.”
“I talked to Denise again.”
“Mom.”
“I know.”
She opened the refrigerator.
“I just hate you being there by yourself.”
Noah stared at his worksheet.
“I won't be.”
She turned.
“What?”
He realized his mistake.
“I mean… teachers will be there.”
Her expression softened.