A thick stand of trees and shrubbery concealed his garage from the house. The garage was no more than a couple of big preformed sheds that had been bolted together with their interior walls knocked out. Under this shelter, raised on cinder blocks, was what looked to me like a completed automobile. I recognized the symbol on the grille, at least.
"What kind of Volkswagen is that?" I asked. "It's an old Rabbit–1986, a classic." "How's it going?"
"Almost finished," he said cheerfully. And then his voice dropped into a lower key. "My dad made good on his promise last spring."
"Ah," I said.
He seemed to understand my reluctance to open the subject. I tried not to remember last May at the prom. Jacob had been bribed by his father with money and car parts to deliver a message there. Billy wanted me to stay a safe distance from the most important person in my life. It turned out that his concern was, in the end, unnecessary. I was all too safe now.
But I was going to see what I could do to change that. "Jacob, what do you know about motorcycles?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Some. My friend Embry has a dirt bike. We work on it together sometimes. Why?"
"Well…" I pursed my lips as I considered. I wasn't sure if he could keep his mouth shut, but I didn't have many other options. "I recently acquired a couple of bikes, and they're not in the greatest condition. I wonder if you could get them running?"
"Cool." He seemed truly pleased by the challenge. His face glowed. "I'll give it a try."
I held up one finger in warning. "The thing is," I explained, "Charlie doesn't approve of motorcycles. Honestly, he'd probably bust a vein in his forehead if he knew about this. So you can't tell Billy."
"Sure, sure." Jacob smiled. "I understand."
"I'll pay you," I continued.
This offended him. "No. I want to help. You can't pay me."
"Well… how about a trade, then?" I was making this up as I went, but it seemed reasonable enough. "I only need one bike–and I'll need lessons, too. So how about this? I'll give you the other bike, and then you can teach me."
"Swee-eet." He made the word into two syllables.
"Wait a sec–are you legal yet? When's your birthday?"
"You missed it," he teased, narrowing his eyes in mock resentment. "I'm sixteen." "Not that your age ever stopped you before," I muttered. "Sorry about your birthday." "Don't worry about it. I missed yours. What are you, forty?"
I sniffed. "Close."
"We'll have a joint party to make up for it."
"Sounds like a date."
His eyes sparkled at the word.
I needed to reign in the enthusiasm before I gave him the wrong idea–it was just that it had been a long time since I'd felt so light and buoyant. The rarity of the feeling made it more difficult to manage.
"Maybe when the bikes are finished–our present to ourselves," I added. "Deal. When will you bring them down?" I bit my lip, embarrassed. "They're in my truck now," I admitted. "Great." He seemed to mean it. "Will Billy see if we bring them around?" He winked at me. "We'll be sneaky."
We eased around from the east, sticking to the trees when we were in view of the windows, affecting a casual-looking stroll, just in case. Jacob unloaded the bikes swiftly from the truck bed, wheeling them one by one into the shrubbery where I hid. It looked too easy for him–I'd remembered the bikes being much, much heavier than that.
"These aren't half bad," Jacob appraised as we pushed them through the cover of the trees. "This one here will actually be worth something when I'm done–it's an old Harley Sprint."
"That one's yours, then." "Are you sure?" "Absolutely."
"These are going to take some cash, though," he said, frowning down at the blackened metal. "We'll have to save up for parts first."
" We nothing," I disagreed. "If you're doing this for free, I'll pay for the parts." "I don't know…" he muttered.
"I've got some money saved. College fund, you know." College, schmollege, I thought to myself. It wasn't like I'd saved up enough to go anywhere special–and besides, I had no desire to leave Forks anyway. What difference would it make if I skimmed a little bit off the top?
Jacob just nodded. This all made perfect sense to him.
As we skulked back to the makeshift garage, I contemplated my luck. Only a teenage boy would agree to this: deceiving both our parents while repairing dangerous vehicles using money meant for my college education. He didn't see anything wrong with that picture. Jacob was a gift from the gods.