And he had almost forgotten the strange things Arthur told him about Dutch's engine.
Until the day six mechanics began arguing over timing marks.
After Arthur's death, money became a constant worry for Mara.
She continued working at the clinic.
Accepted additional shifts when she could.
And tried to keep life stable for Leo.
But medical bills, reduced household income, and the ordinary cost of raising a child made everything difficult.
She moved them into a smaller apartment.
Sold Arthur's work truck.
And carefully stored the most important of his belongings.
Leo's schoolbooks filled a shelf near the kitchen.
His father's photographs stood above the television.
And several boxes of diagrams and notebooks remained beneath Mara's bed.
She couldn't bear to throw them away.
Not yet.
Rusty Cole had known Arthur through the local motorcycle community.
When he learned Mara was struggling, he offered help.
At first, she refused.
She didn't want charity.
She wanted to work.
To raise her son.
To maintain the dignity Arthur always tried to give their family.
Rusty understood.
So he offered something different.
“If Leo wants to visit the shop after school sometimes, he's welcome. I'll make sure he's supervised and stays away from the dangerous work.”
Mara hesitated.
“He's only six.”
“I know.”
“He can't be working on engines.”
Rusty shook his head.
“I'm not asking him to.”
He smiled.
“He can draw at the office desk, help us sort old catalogs, sweep a little if he wants, and listen to everybody argue about motorcycles.”
Mara laughed despite herself.
“That last part sounds educational.”
Rusty grinned.
“Terrible influence, really.”
Eventually, she agreed.
Leo began visiting the garage on afternoons when Mara's work schedule made childcare complicated.
Rusty's office manager kept an eye on him.
He did homework at the small table near the window.
Sometimes he helped with simple cleaning tasks.
Other times he watched the mechanics from a safe distance.
The men grew accustomed to him.
Most liked having him around.
Big Dave occasionally brought donuts.
Tyler helped him with math homework.
Nate gave him old motorcycle magazines.
And Evan taught him how to identify tools without letting him use anything dangerous.
But the garage was noisy.
The mechanics teased one another constantly.
And not every joke was gentle.
Leo learned early that asking questions could make grown men laugh.
Sometimes they laughed because he was funny.
Sometimes because he was wrong.
And sometimes because they forgot how much an eight-year-old could hear in their voices.
He rarely complained.
Instead, he watched.