THE DAYS THAT STARTED TO FEEL LIKE HOME
Chapter 3
By nine, the workshop was busy.
A fishing boat needed a fuel line replaced.
A truck had a bad alternator.
Someone brought in an old motorcycle that made a terrible noise whenever it turned left.
Ethan spent most of the morning moving between jobs.
He didn’t mind.
The work was familiar.
Simple.
Honest.
You looked at something broken.
You figured out why.
You fixed it.
There was satisfaction in that.
At around ten thirty, a teenage boy came into the workshop carrying a bicycle.
The front wheel was bent.
He stood near the door.
Ethan looked over.
“You need something?”
The boy nodded.
“Can you fix this?”
Ethan walked over.
He examined the wheel.
“What happened?”
The boy looked down.
“I crashed.”
“Badly?”
“No.”
Ethan looked at his scraped elbow.
“Looks like you lost.”
The boy smiled.
“A little.”
Ethan took the bicycle.
“Give me ten minutes.”
The boy sat on a wooden crate.
“How much?”
Ethan glanced at him.
“Nothing.”
“I have money.”
“I didn’t ask.”
The boy hesitated.
“Why?”
Ethan crouched beside the wheel.
“Because someone fixed things for me once.”
The boy looked at him.
“Really?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yeah.”
He didn’t explain.
The boy didn’t ask again.
Ten minutes later, the wheel was straight.
Ethan handed the bicycle back.
“Try it.”
The boy rolled it across the workshop.
The wheel turned smoothly.
He smiled.
“Thanks.”
Ethan nodded.
The boy started toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you staying in Greyhaven?”
Ethan looked at him.
The question was so simple.
But for some reason, it stayed in the room.
“Yeah.”
The boy smiled.
“Good.”
Then he left.
Ethan watched him disappear down the street.
Walter looked over from the other side of the workshop.
“You hear that?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yeah.”
Walter returned to work.
“That’s how it happens.”
