“What part?”
“I don't remember.”
“Cam?”
“Maybe.”
“You don't know.”
Leo looked down.
“No.”
Dave relaxed, almost triumphant.
Then Leo added:
“But he said the factory mark was twelve degrees wrong afterward.”
Dave stopped.
Rusty stared at the boy.
“Twelve?”
Leo nodded.
“Exactly twelve?”
“Yes.”
“How do you remember that?”
“My dad made me count it on a cardboard circle.”
Nobody laughed now.
Jim slowly turned toward Rusty.
“You have timing light?”
Rusty looked offended.
“I own motorcycle shop.”
“Then check.”
Dave stepped in.
“We already set—”
“Check twelve.”
Rusty looked at the FXR.
Then at Leo.
Then at the clock.
Two days.
Nothing else had worked.
“Fine.”
For the next thirty minutes, Leo stood on an upside-down milk crate beside the motorcycle while four grown mechanics tested a theory coming from an eight-year-old child.
The first test proved nothing.
The second raised eyebrows.
The third made Dave swear.
Rusty leaned closer.
“Again.”
Dave repeated measurement.
He stood.
“That’s impossible.”
Jim asked:
“What?”
Dave looked at Leo.
“The mark isn't matching expected position.”
Rusty said:
“Could be previous assembly error.”
Leo shook his head.
“No.”
Dave looked.
“You suddenly know everything?”
Leo flinched.
Jim’s voice cut across room.
“Let the boy talk.”
Leo pointed toward left side beneath fuel tank.
“There’s a switch.”
Rusty blinked.
“A switch.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Under tank.”
“There isn't.”
“My dad said there is.”
Dave rolled eyes.
“I've had that tank off twice.”
Leo stared.
“Did you touch the metal tab behind the front mount?”
Dave’s face changed.
He looked toward Rusty.
Rusty said:
“Take it off.”
Dave removed seat, loosened hardware, raised the tank enough to inspect.
Minutes later:
“What the hell?”
Rusty came closer.
Hidden beneath a wrapped section of harness was a tiny old toggle switch mounted behind a bracket where nobody would see without knowing to look.
Jim laughed once.
“Dutch.”
Rusty touched switch.
“Homemade ground interrupt.”
Dave traced wire.
“This could disable spark.”
Leo nodded.
“If you don't turn it, bike cranks but doesn't start.”
Jim looked at him.
“How did your father know?”