"Did you inspect the cam gear?"
Rusty hesitated.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because we followed the factory service manual."
Leo quietly said, "That's why it beat you."
Nobody laughed.
Rusty walked toward the engine.
He looked at Leo.
"Suppose you're right."
He gestured toward the motorcycle.
"Can you actually fix it?"
Leo looked at the tools scattered across the workbench.
"I can tell you what to do."
Rusty frowned.
"You're eight."
"I know."
"You can't rebuild an engine."
"I know."
"You can't safely lift half the parts in this shop."
"I know."
Leo looked directly into his eyes.
"But I know what needs to be done."
Jim stepped forward.
"Then let him work."
Rusty turned.
"Jim, you're seriously going to let an eight-year-old direct an engine rebuild?"
Jim's voice was quiet.
"Your mechanics already tried."
Rusty said nothing.
Jim looked at Leo.
"Can you bring Dutch's motorcycle back?"
Leo looked at the FXR.
"Yes."
The answer was simple.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Jim nodded.
"Then you're in charge."
The Widowmaker
They began before sunrise.
Leo arrived at Apex Iron Works carrying a small backpack.
His face had been washed clean.
His clothes were still old, but his expression had changed.
He looked like someone who had been given a job that mattered.
Rusty and three mechanics waited beside the FXR.
Big Dave was first.
The giant mechanic crossed his arms.
"All right, boss."
Leo looked up.
"You're not calling me boss."
"What should we call you?"
"Leo."
Big Dave smiled.
"Okay, Leo."
Rusty pointed toward the engine.
"Where do we start?"
"Drain the oil."
Dave did.
"Remove the cam cover."
He did.
"Careful with that bolt."
Dave stopped.
Leo pointed.
"That one is different."
Dave examined it.
He was right.
Rusty watched the boy closely.
For the next three hours, Leo directed the work.
He knew where each component belonged.
He recognized modified parts.
He remembered his father's lessons.
Then they found the timing gear.
Rusty stared at it.
A small mark had been stamped into the metal.
A letter.
"V."
Rusty's face drained of color.
"Shovelhead."
Leo nodded.
"That's the part."
Rusty sat down heavily.
"I've been working on motorcycles for thirty years."
He looked at the boy.
"And I never saw it."
Leo didn't answer.
He was studying the pushrods.
Tommy picked one up.
"It looks bent."
"Roll it," Leo said.
Tommy placed it on the workbench.
It wobbled.
They checked the others.
Three were damaged.
Rusty cursed quietly.
"That's it."
He rubbed his face.
"We don't have replacements."
Leo looked at him.
"Maybe we do."
Locker Forty-Two
Leo asked about the basement.
Rusty frowned.
"The old storage lockers?"
"My father had one."
"Where?"
"Forty-two."