“There's something else we should discuss after the ride. Nothing you need to decide today.”
Mara nodded.
“Okay.”
Gravel stepped forward.
“Come on, son.”
He gestured toward the garage.
“There's somebody waiting for you.”
Leo followed.
Inside, the mechanics stood beside the covered Harley.
Rusty smiled.
“Morning.”
Leo looked toward the motorcycle.
“Morning.”
Big Dave stepped forward.
For a moment, he seemed uncertain.
Then he crouched.
“Leo?”
The boy looked at him.
“Yeah?”
Dave took a breath.
“I was wrong.”
Leo blinked.
The mechanic continued.
“When you first spoke up, I laughed at you. I told you to go sweep because I thought an eight-year-old couldn't possibly know anything we didn't.”
For several seconds, the boy remained silent.
Dave swallowed.
“That was disrespectful.”
He looked directly into Leo's eyes.
“And I'm sorry.”
The little boy stared at him.
Then shrugged slightly.
“It's okay.”
Dave shook his head.
“No, son. It wasn't.”
He took a breath.
“You were trying to help. I should've listened.”
For a moment, Leo looked toward Rusty.
The shop owner nodded encouragingly.
Then the boy looked back at Dave.
“Dad said everybody makes mistakes.”
Dave smiled sadly.
“Smart man.”
Leo continued.
“He said what matters is what you do after.”
The big mechanic stared.
For several seconds, he couldn't answer.
Then he nodded.
“Your dad was right.”
Leo smiled.
And Big Dave extended his enormous hand.
The boy shook it.
Several mechanics laughed softly.
Then Rusty stepped toward the covered motorcycle.
“Ready?”
Leo nodded.
Rusty glanced toward Gravel.
The club president smiled.
“Let him do it.”
Leo looked confused.
“Do what?”
Gravel gestured toward the cloth.
“Reveal Dutch's bike.”
For a moment, the boy stared.
Then he looked toward Mara.
She smiled.
“Go ahead.”
Leo approached the motorcycle.
He grasped the edge of the white covering.
Then carefully pulled it away.
The black Harley-Davidson FXR appeared beneath the garage lights.
Its fuel tank gleamed.
The leather seat had been cleaned.
The chrome reflected the faces of the men standing around it.
And beside the left side of the engine, Rusty had mounted a small commemorative plate.
Leo leaned closer.
The lettering was simple.
ARTHUR HAYES — MASTER MACHINIST
CUSTOM ENGINE WORK PRESERVED, 2026
The boy stared.
His mouth opened.
Then he looked toward Rusty.
“You put Dad's name on it?”
The mechanic nodded.
“Should've done it years ago.”
For several seconds, Leo couldn't speak.
Then he began crying.
Mara walked toward him.
He turned and buried his face against her.
She held him tightly.