“Can I help you?”
Walter looked at the little girl.
“You work here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know motorcycles?”
Leah smiled.
“A little.”
Walter laughed.
“Then you're already better than most.”
She examined the bike.
Ray watched from across the garage.
Leah listened to the engine.
She tried the ignition.
Nothing.
She checked the obvious things.
Then she remembered her father's lesson.
“Don't guess.”
She looked carefully.
Finally she noticed a loose connection.
She pointed.
“That.”
Walter looked.
Ray walked over.
He checked it.
Then smiled.
“She’s right.”
Walter stared at Leah.
“You found that?”
She nodded.
Walter handed her a dollar.
Leah looked at it.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I can't take money for something I didn't fix.”
Walter laughed.
“You haven't changed.”
Ray smiled.
Leah looked confused.
Walter explained.
“Your father once fixed my carburetor.”
Leah froze.
“You knew Dad?”
“Everyone who rode around here knew Tom.”
Walter looked at Ray.
“So this is his daughter?”
Ray nodded.
Walter looked at Leah.
“He'd be proud.”
Leah accepted the dollar.
Then put it into a small box.
“What are you doing?”
Ray asked.
“Saving it.”
“For what?”
Leah smiled.
“Coffee for somebody.”
Ray laughed.
The circle was complete.
That winter, a heavy storm hit the area.
Rain flooded the roads.
The creek rose.
Several homes in the mobile-home park lost power.
Sarah and Leah stayed inside.
Then someone knocked.
Ray.
Behind him were several riders.
They brought generators.
Blankets.
Food.
Tools.
They worked through the night.
Leah watched from the window.
The same people who had once seemed frightening now felt like part of the family.
At midnight, the electricity returned.
Sarah looked outside.
Ray stood beneath the rain.
She opened the door.
“You're going to get sick.”
Ray smiled.
“I'm a biker.”
“That doesn't make you waterproof.”
He laughed.
Sarah handed him coffee.
He took it.
“Tom would've laughed at me.”
“He probably would.”
Ray looked toward the dark road.
“You know something?”