One repaired engine at a time.
One long day after another.
When the shop began making real money, he expanded.
Then expanded again.
Eventually, he had enough employees that he no longer needed to work on every motorcycle himself.
He was proud of that.
But now, walking through the busy building, he noticed something that had never troubled him before.
He could remember nearly every machine he had repaired.
But he had forgotten how many people had helped him build the place.
The younger biker had worked there for almost eleven years.
He helped install the first hydraulic lift.
Painted the office.
Built the shelves in the parts room.
Stayed late during difficult repairs.
And once spent an entire Christmas Eve helping the old biker finish a motorcycle for a customer whose husband was returning home the following morning.
The young mechanic had been exhausted.
His hands were covered with grease.
His shoulders ached.
But when they finally started the engine, he smiled as though they had accomplished something extraordinary.
The old biker remembered asking why he was so pleased.
The young man replied, "Because that fellow gets to spend Christmas riding with his wife."
At the time, the old biker laughed.
Now the memory brought tears to his eyes.
One afternoon, he found himself standing beside the second service bay, staring at the place where his friend used to work.
An employee approached.
"Boss?"
The old biker looked up.
"Yeah?"
"You all right?"
He nodded automatically.
Then stopped.
For most of his life, he had responded to that question the same way.
Fine.
Even when he wasn't.
He looked toward the empty workstation.
"No," he answered quietly.
The younger mechanic seemed surprised.
The old biker continued.
"Not entirely."
He rested one scarred hand against the workbench.
"Used to have a good man working here."
The employee nodded.
"I've heard stories."
The old biker looked toward him.
"Not enough, I reckon."
He turned toward the office.
"Come here a minute."
Together, they opened a storage cabinet that had not been properly organized in years.
Inside were boxes of old tools, photographs, repair manuals, and spare parts.