Page 10 of Goose

“I don’t make comparisons to James Dean,” I explained. “He stands alone. Or, at least he did until you showed up.”

He struggled not to smile. “Thanks.”

“So, what did you realize?” I asked. “A minute ago? When you said you realized something?”

He gestured toward the street with a nod of his head. “I’m leaving that car here. I need a ride to get my bike.”

“You’re leaving it here?” I screeched in disbelief. “Out there on the street?”

He swallowed heavily and then cleared his throat. “It was Porter’s car. In his will, he left it to the owner of this place. One of the stipulations was that I had to drive it here. Deliver it, or whatever.”

“George?” I asked excitedly. “He gave that car to George?”

“You know him?”

“He’s the best. He’s got a pretty cool car, too. A Mercury Marauder. Porter built it for him. George talks about him all the time. I guess they were pretty close.”

“I didn’t know they were close.” Sadness clouded his James Dean-esque features. “Explains why he left him the car, I guess.”

I reached for his hand, but paused before touching him. “I’ll take you to get your bike. But the ride’s conditional.”

He smiled a crappy little smile. “On what?”

“Give me a ride on your motorcycle afterward.”

He smiled. This time for real. “You’ve got a deal.”