"Probably not."
"You need it."
Jake smiled slightly.
"I'll earn more."
The man looked at him for a long time.
Then something changed in his expression.
Not gratitude.
Something deeper.
Almost recognition.
But Jake couldn't understand why.
The man finally took the money.
"What's your name?"
"Jake."
"Jake what?"
"Miller."
The old man repeated it softly.
"Miller."
Then he looked toward the store.
Jake noticed the old man's eyes suddenly sharpen.
He slipped the money into his pocket.
"Thank you, Jake Miller."
Jake nodded.
"No problem."
He turned around.
He had taken only three steps when Rick's voice exploded across the parking lot.
"JAKE!"
Jake froze.
Customers turned.
Rick came storming out of the store.
His face was red.
"What did I tell you?"
Jake said nothing.
Rick pointed at the old man.
"You gave him money?"
"I gave him my tip money."
"I don't care whose money it was."
Rick walked closer.
"You were warned."
The old man stepped forward.
"He's a kid."
Rick looked at him.
"Sir, this is an employee matter."
Jake swallowed.
"Rick—"
"Inside."
"But—"
"Inside. Now."
Jake followed him.
The old man remained beside his truck.
Rick slammed the office door behind them.
"You think this is funny?"
"No."
"You think you can ignore company policy?"
"I wasn't giving away company money."
"You embarrassed me."
Jake stared at him.
"I was just helping someone."
Rick laughed without humor.
"That's not your job."
He took off his cap.
Then he pointed toward the door.
"Give me your uniform."
Jake's stomach dropped.
"What?"
"You're fired."
For a second, Jake couldn't hear anything.
The refrigerators hummed.
A bell chimed when a customer entered.
Outside, a truck passed on Route 17.
Everything continued.
Except Jake's life.
He slowly removed his name tag.
He placed it on the desk.
Then he took off his work vest.
Rick snatched it from his hands.
"You're lucky I'm not making you finish the shift."
Jake looked at him.
"Okay."
He walked out.
The old man was still there.
Jake expected him to be gone.
Instead, he was standing beside the pickup with one hand resting on the driver's door.
Jake passed him.
The old man called after him.
"Jake."
Jake stopped.
The man reached into his shirt pocket.
He pulled out a smartphone.
Jake almost laughed.
The phone looked ridiculously modern in the old man's weathered hand.
The man's thumb moved across the screen.
He made one call.
He didn't explain anything.
He didn't introduce himself.
He simply said four words.
"Send everyone here. Right now."
Then he ended the call.
Jake stared at him.
The old man put the phone away.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"No."
Jake frowned.
"No?"
The old man opened the truck door.
"You're going to wait."
"For what?"
The man looked toward the road.
"You'll see."
And somewhere beyond the fields, an engine began to roar.
Then another.
Then another.
Within minutes, the quiet gas station would no longer be quiet.
And Jake Miller was about to discover that the old man had not been stranded at Pump Seven.
He had been waiting.
Waiting to see who would stop.
And who would walk away.
The Arrival
The first motorcycle appeared three minutes later.
Jake heard it before he saw it.
A deep rumble rolled across the parking lot.
Then a black Harley-Davidson came around the corner.
The rider wore a dark leather vest over a gray shirt.
Behind him came another motorcycle.
Then another.
Jake counted six.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
The gas station suddenly seemed too small.
Customers began stepping outside.
Rick came through the front door.
His expression changed immediately.
The motorcycles kept coming.
They lined up along the edge of the parking lot.
Some riders were young.
Others were gray-haired.
One woman was probably in her sixties.
A few wore plain jackets.
Others wore leather vests with patches Jake didn't recognize.
The old man stood calmly beside his truck.
Jake looked at him.
"Who are they?"
The man didn't answer.
More motorcycles arrived.
Then two pickup trucks.
Then a black SUV.
The old man checked his phone.
"Twenty-three minutes."
Jake frowned.
"What's that?"
"That's how long it took them."
"Who are they?"
The man smiled faintly.
"People who answer when I call."
Rick suddenly approached.
"Sir, you're blocking the pumps."
The old man looked at him.
"Are we?"
Rick glanced around.
Nearly every pump was now occupied.
"Yes."
The old man nodded.
"Then move your customers."
Rick looked at the motorcycles.
He clearly didn't know what to say.
Jake stood behind him.
A tall man with silver hair walked toward the old man.
He wore a dark blue jacket.
"Mr. Harrison."
The old man nodded.
"Caleb."
The two shook hands.
Then another man approached.
"Mr. Harrison."
"Frank."
Another.
"Good to see you."
"Good to see you too."
Jake watched.
The old man knew all of them.
And judging from their expressions, they knew him well.
Finally, a woman with short gray hair approached.
She looked at Jake.
Then at the old man.
"Is this him?"
Mr. Harrison nodded.
"This is Jake Miller."
The woman looked Jake up and down.
Then smiled.
"Good."
Jake had no idea what was happening.
"Can somebody please tell me what's going on?"
Mr. Harrison looked at him.
"My name is Arthur Harrison."
He extended his hand.
Jake shook it.
"Jake Miller."
"I know."
Jake raised an eyebrow.
"You already knew my name."
Arthur smiled.
"You told me."
"No, I mean..."
Arthur's smile disappeared.
"I know more than that."
Jake suddenly felt uncomfortable.
"How?"
Arthur didn't answer.
Instead, he turned toward the crowd.
"Everyone, come closer."
The riders gathered.
Arthur spoke quietly.
"When I arrived, I had six dollars."
Nobody laughed.
Nobody interrupted.
"I needed enough fuel to get home."
He looked at Jake.
"I was short."
He paused.
"I didn't ask anyone for help."
He looked toward Rick.
"One employee saw me anyway."
Rick's jaw tightened.
Arthur continued.
"He gave me everything he had."
Jake looked down.
"It wasn't everything."
Arthur smiled.
"To you, maybe."
Then he turned toward the group.
"To him, it was."
Silence.
Arthur reached into his pocket.
He pulled out the twelve dollars Jake had given him.
He held them up.
"These are worth more than a thousand-dollar check."
Rick scoffed.
"That's ridiculous."
Everyone turned.
Rick immediately regretted speaking.
Arthur looked at him.
"Is it?"
Rick folded his arms.