Mason stared at the list.
Arthur sat on an old stool.
“Well?”
Mason looked at him.
“You want the polite answer?”
“No.”
“The bike is trying to kill you.”
Arthur laughed.
“Danny used to say the same thing.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
Mason pointed at the front tire.
“That tire is finished.”
Arthur studied it.
“Still round.”
“That is not the standard.”
“You got one used?”
Mason stared at him.
“Cheap?” Arthur added.
Mason rubbed his beard.
“Don't start negotiating yet.”
“I told you what I have.”
Mason walked toward the parts rack.
“Tyler, check upstairs. I think we have a nineteen-inch Dunlop from the Lawson build.”
“That tire's almost new.”
“I know.”
“You saving it?”
“Not anymore.”
Arthur stood.
“No.”
Mason kept walking.
Arthur followed.
“No, no. I can't buy that.”
Mason stopped.
“Who said buy?”
“I said no charity.”
Mason turned.
“You ever help somebody fix a fence?”
Arthur frowned.
“What?”
“You ever help a neighbor fix a fence?”
“Yes.”
“You charge him?”
“Depends how much I liked him.”
The mechanics laughed.
Mason almost smiled.
“You ever jump somebody's battery?”
“Sure.”
“Charge for that?”
“No.”
“Then stop calling every decent thing charity.”
Arthur became quiet.
Mason pointed toward the motorcycle.
“You pushed a seventy-eight Shovelhead twenty-eight miles into my shop because you made a promise to your dead son.”
His voice softened.
“Let us help you keep it.”
Arthur looked down.
Finally he whispered,
“I can pay for parts.”
“We'll talk later.”
Mason walked back to the lift.
“Now let's see if this old girl wants to live.”
Daniel's Motorcycle
While the mechanics worked, Arthur sat quietly.
Mason eventually came over with a cup of coffee.
“You want to tell me about Daniel?”
Arthur looked at the motorcycle.
“Not much to tell.”
“That's usually what people say when there's too much to tell.”
Arthur smiled.
“Smart mouth.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Arthur took the coffee.
“Daniel was stubborn.”
“So I've noticed.”
“He was twenty-three when he bought her.”
“Original owner?”
Arthur nodded.
“He paid two hundred dollars for her.”
Mason laughed.
“Two hundred?”
“Back then, everybody thought the bike was junk.”
“What changed?”
“Daniel.”
Arthur's eyes softened.
“He took it apart piece by piece. Learned everything. Every wire. Every bolt. Every strange noise.”
Mason glanced at the wiring.
“He did good work.”
“He loved that machine.”
Arthur paused.
“Sometimes I think he loved it more than he loved me.”
Mason smiled.
“Probably loved you differently.”
Arthur stared into his coffee.
“Maybe.”
He looked toward the photograph.
“After he got sick, he couldn't ride much anymore.”
Mason said nothing.
“Near the end, he asked me to promise something.”