it.”
“Jury-what?”
“Jury-rig. A makeshift fix.”
When she frowned, still not understanding, he expanded.
“Improvise, Cobble something together, half-ass it .”
“Gotcha.”
He glanced around the shed. “Check the floor. Maybe we’ll find something I can use.”
The shed was cluttered with some garbage in the corner. What appeared to be the trash left over from when whoever emptied out whatever had been stored here long ago. They both scoured the place top to bottom.
***
Jessie dumped her meager pile of ‘found’ items next to the bike. Ghost squatted down, looking them over, moving them around with his finger. A couple of nails, a paperclip, and a fat rubber band.
She looked at him hopefully, like she’d found the jackpot. His brows rose as he looked up at her indicating he had his doubts about what he could do with these items. Did she thing he was goddamned MacGyver? He huffed out a breath. Maybe it was the hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe it was the memory of how she used to always look up to him as a child, believing he was capable of anything, Whatever it was, he found himself looking back at the bike and grinning.
“I’ll try, baby doll.”
She grinned back.
***
Hours passed as Jessie watched as Ghost tried one fix after another. He tried the rubber band, but the first time he climbed on and hit the shifter with his foot, it snapped off. Then he tried to fashion a fix with the jumbo paperclip, twisting it through where the bolt would connect. It popped off with the first tap of his foot. He studied the nails, and she knew he was trying to figure out a way to bend them to hold the connection, but that fix didn’t pan out either.
Through every attempt, she expected him to get more frustrated and angry, but he never did. He remained totally calm, which in turn kept her calm. She needed him calm right now to make her believe everything was going to be okay. If he had been agitated, she would have gone over the edge. But his calm confidence reassured her.
Her stomach growled loudly.
He looked over his shoulder at her, trying to suppress a grin, and lifted his chin toward his saddlebag. “I think there may be an energy bar buried at the bottom.”
She quickly moved to the bike and dug through the bag like a starving animal. He grinned, shook his head and continued to fiddle with the bike. A moment later, she came up with a bottle of water and a granola bar, holding them high in the air like she’d just found diamonds.
“Yes!”
She tore the wrapper off and took a bite. Then she looked down at him guiltily, and her chewing slowed. She swallowed and broke off half the bar offering it to him.
He shook his head. “You eat it, brat. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. But I’ll take some of that water.”
She twisted the cap off and held it out to him. He guzzled down half of it. Then handed it back to her. She continued eating the bar and watching him. Her eyes fell to his wrist, and she paused.
“You still have the bracelet I made you,” she murmured in a stunned voice.
His eyes moved to his wrist, and then he looked up at her. “Of course.”
He said it so matter-of-fact, like it was the most normal thing in the world to keep a handmade gift from a nine-year-old girl.
She frowned. “All these years? You’ve worn it?”
He nodded. “I have.”
“Why?” she asked. It was his turn to frown at her.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged. “It was just a stupid childish gift a little girl gave you. I never thought you’d keep it.”
“Of course I kept it. You made it for me.”
Her eyes again fell on the bracelet. It was a brown leather cord with knots tied in it. And between each knot was a silver nut she’d pilfered from the parts on the garage floor that summer when he and her brother had put together their first dirt bikes. Ghost had always looked the other way when he saw her sneaking the little nuts and washers. But there had always
C. D. Wright, William Carlos Williams