The old dog rarely stood quickly anymore.
A young man stood near the entrance.
He looked about twenty-six.
Brown hair.
Denim jacket.
Worn boots.
Motorcycle helmet beneath one arm.
Captain stared at him.
The young man stared back.
Neither moved.
Then Captain ran.
Henry froze.
The dog moved faster than Henry had seen him move in months.
The young man dropped his helmet.
Captain reached him.
The stranger fell to his knees and wrapped both arms around the Labrador.
"Captain?"
His voice broke.
Captain whined.
The young man buried his face against the dog's gray fur.
"Oh my God."
Henry's stomach tightened.
He walked closer.
"You know my dog?"
The young man slowly stood.
"Yes."
"How?"
"He belonged to my grandfather."
Silence filled the garage.
Henry crossed his arms.
"Then why was he in a shelter?"
The young man looked down.
"My name is Evan Brooks."
Henry waited.
"My grandfather had Captain since he was a puppy. When Grandpa got sick, he moved into assisted living."
"And nobody could keep the dog."
"My mother tried. She already had two dogs. They fought with Captain."
"And you?"
"I was in college. My apartment didn't allow pets."
Henry's voice hardened.
"So you sent him to the shelter."
Evan looked ashamed.
"We thought someone would adopt him quickly."
Henry gave a bitter laugh.
"Nobody wants the old ones."
"I know that now."
Captain moved away from Evan.
He walked to Henry and sat against his boot.
Evan watched.
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Grandpa would like that."
"What?"
"He always worried Captain would end up with someone who didn't understand him."
"Understand what?"
"Motorcycles."
Henry looked at him.
Evan reached into his jacket and removed a small wooden box.
He placed it on Henry's workbench.
"My grandfather told me to give this to whoever adopted Captain."
Henry stared at the box.
"What is it?"
"I don't know."
"You never opened it?"
"He made me promise."
Henry lifted the lid.
Inside was a heavy brass key.
A faded leather tag hung from it.
B-17
Henry frowned.
"What does that open?"
Evan looked toward the garage door.
"An old barn."
Henry's heart gave an unexpected beat.
"My grandfather hasn't opened it in almost thirty years."
The Barn
Henry almost refused.
He told himself Captain had a new home.
The old man's past was none of his business.
But the key remained beside his toolbox.
B-17.
At closing time, Evan returned.
"What kind of motorcycle is in the barn?" Henry asked.
"I don't know."
"You've never seen it?"
"No."
"Why keep it locked for thirty years?"
Evan hesitated.
"Grandpa said he was waiting for someone."
"Who?"
"He never told me."
Captain stood beside the truck.
Henry sighed.
"You want to go?"
Captain's tail moved.
"Of course you do."
The barn stood forty-five minutes away.
The farmhouse looked abandoned.
Behind it was a faded red barn.
Above the door was a small metal plate.
B-17
Henry held the key.
His hand trembled.
He didn't understand why.
The lock resisted.
Then—
Click.
The doors opened.
Inside were old tools, farm equipment, boxes, and dust.
Beneath a gray canvas cover stood the shape of a motorcycle.
Captain walked toward it.
Henry didn't.
Something about the silhouette felt familiar.
Evan grabbed the canvas.
"Ready?"
"No."
Evan looked at him.
Henry stepped forward.
"Let me."
He pulled.
Dust filled the air.
The cover slid down.
Henry stopped breathing.
Deep red tank.
Cream stripe.
Large front fender.
Old leather seat.
Dulled chrome.
And on the tank—
A small silver eagle.
Henry stumbled backward.
"No."
Evan stared at him.
"What's wrong?"
Henry touched the tank.
Suddenly he was five again.
Summer.
Gasoline.
His father's hands.
"Easy, little man."
Henry's knees weakened.
Evan caught his shoulder.
"Henry?"
Henry whispered:
"I know this motorcycle."
The Letters
There were scratches beneath the motorcycle seat.
Two letters.
H.M.
Below them were smaller marks:
H + D
Henry touched them.
His hands shook.
"I scratched this."
Evan stared.
"What?"
"When I was a kid."
"H?"
"Henry."
"And D?"
Henry closed his eyes.
"Dad."
Evan looked stunned.
Then Captain began scratching at an old wooden cabinet.
Again.
Again.
Henry walked over.
The cabinet was tied shut with wire.
He removed it.
Inside were photographs.