"You?"
Owen stood slowly.
"Yeah."
Someone in the crowd snorted.
Garrett pointed at the motorcycle.
"You know what that bike is worth?"
Owen nodded.
"Probably more than I've ever owned."
"And you think you can fix it?"
Owen looked at the engine.
"I think I can find what's wrong with it."
Garrett crossed his arms.
"How long?"
Owen glanced at his watch.
"Give me five minutes."
The parking lot went silent.
Then someone laughed.
And soon, nearly everyone was laughing.
Everyone except Owen.
And everyone except one old mechanic standing in the doorway.
Because the old mechanic had seen the look in Owen's eyes before.
It wasn't confidence.
It was certainty.
The Kid Nobody Knew
Owen had started working at Iron Rail only six months earlier.
Most people assumed he was just another teenager looking for a summer job.
They were wrong.
Owen had grown up around machines.
His father had been a mechanic before an accident forced him to leave the trade.
From the time Owen was a little boy, he had watched his father take broken engines apart and put them back together.
His father had taught him something important.
"Machines don't lie, Owen."
"When a machine doesn't work, it's telling you exactly what is wrong."
"You just have to learn how to listen."
Owen remembered those words every time he picked up a wrench.
After his father could no longer work, Owen began repairing bicycles.
Then lawnmowers.
Then old cars.
Eventually, motorcycles.
He learned from manuals, old mechanics, junkyards, and endless mistakes.
He didn't have expensive equipment.
He didn't have a fancy shop.
But he had patience.
And he had learned never to assume that the obvious problem was the real problem.
That was exactly why he wasn't intimidated by Garrett's motorcycle.
Owen crouched beside it.
Garrett watched him.
"You've got five minutes."
Owen nodded.
"That's enough."
The bikers moved closer.
Phones came out.
Someone started recording.
A few people whispered bets of their own.