Then a bike caught his eye.
An older Harley sat in the corner of the shop, half-covered with a tarp.The chrome was dull, the paint faded, but the bones were unmistakable.Finn stepped away from Carl without thinking, drawn to it like a magnet.
He lifted the tarp gently, revealing the full frame.
A 1976 Harley-Davidson FLH Electra Glide.
He ran his hand along the tank, his fingers tracing the familiar lines."This is beautiful," he murmured.
Carl raised an eyebrow."You know that bike?"
Finn nodded, his voice soft with something like reverence."Yeah.'76 Electra Glide.Shovelhead engine.Four-speed.They only made this paint scheme for a couple of years.She's got the original pipes, too.Hard to find those intact."
Carl's eyebrows shot up."Well, damn.Most guys your age don't know half that shit."
Finn shrugged, but inside, something warm flickered.He understood this lifestyle.He was comfortable.
Carl crossed his arms, studying him with new interest."You ever rebuild one of these?"
"Not this exact model," Finn said, "but close."
Carl let out a low whistle."You're either the real deal or the best liar I've ever met."
Finn didn't flinch."I'm the real deal."
A slow grin spread across Carl's face."Good.Because I could use someone who knows their way around the old stuff.Kids these days don't want to touch anything without a computer port."He extended his hand."You want the job?"
Finn stared at the offered hand for a heartbeat."Do you mind paying me under the table?"
"I can manage that."Carl dipped his chin."You want the job?"
"Yeah," he said."I want it."
Carl clapped him on the shoulder."Welcome aboard, Finn."
Finn exhaled, a weight lifted from his chest.If he could make this work, he could afford to give Kallie the life she deserved.
Finn shook hands with Carl again before stepping away from the motorcycle.The shop was louder now, the afternoon crew filtering in, the clatter of tools and the rumble of engines filling the air.Carl led him to the back, where a few mechanics were gathered around a stripped-down sport bike.
"Boys," Carl said, "this is Finn.He's gonna be helping out around here starting Monday."
A few nods, a couple of curious glances.One tall, tattooed guy with grease up to his elbows gave Finn a quick assessment."You ride?"
"Used to," Finn said.
"Good enough."The guy lifted his chin."Name's Wheat."
Finn watched them work, trying to absorb the mood of the place.The tools were familiar, but the machines were not.Wires hung on the motorcycles where there had been none before.Screens replaced gauges.
This world.This time.Everything was different.
Faster.Louder.More chaotic.
The differences settled around him.The years he'd lost, the decades he'd skipped, the technology that had sprinted ahead without him.But determination grew inside him.He would learn to work on the motorcycles.He would make it work.He would build a life here, for Kallie's sake as much as his own.
After meeting the rest of the crew and getting a rundown of his start date, Finn stepped outside.The sun was lower now, casting long shadows across the pavement.He shoved his hands in his pockets and started the walk back to the apartment.
Every step a little faster, knowing Kallie was nervous for him.She'd watched the clock that morning, afraid to see him walk out, yet too supportive to stop him from going to the interview.
