Chapter 19 Armed Fishing and Father-Daughter Moment 1/2

"George, I've figured it out, the problem with the bike," I say while visualizing the motorcycle's engine. "It's simply an issue with the electronic fuel injection, so the problem is related to a clogged fuel injector. All we need to do is unclog it. Let's, help me," I say to George, who is holding the bike.

After a while, the roar of a Harley-Davidson engine is heard, starting up and warming up. "Alright, all set. What's left is just fuel and a little oil to lubricate the parts. It's been sitting for too long; it's not good to start it up right now, or else it might end up frying the engine. And a motorcycle engine like this one is quite powerful, especially considering its rarity," I say while trying to wipe my grease-covered face, resulting in making it even dirtier.

"I can't believe it. I thought I had lost her forever. I never thought the problem would be so simple to fix," says George, with a funny look on his face. Then, in excitement, he says, "Let's go quickly, to the truck. We'll buy gas and oil. It's been so long since I've ridden it. Mary will fall in love with me again."

A few hours later.

"Woohooooo, yeeeee, this is so good. THE WIND IN MY FACE, THE SMELL OF GRASS AND ASPHALT. I MISS THIS SO MUCH," shouts George, who was riding the Harley, looking like a child with a new toy.

With the motorcycle's engine noise, we arrive home after a long ride.

"Man, we have to do this again," George says while looking at the motorcycle with eyes exuding nostalgia.

"Yeah, very good. But we have to make the most of the remaining time before dinner," I say, pointing to the bike, "Also, we have to attach some saddlebags to the bike to carry the items, and we also have to find a sidecar to carry Missy," I say, pointing out what we need to do by tomorrow.

"You're right, I got carried away. Let's divide the tasks," says George. "Go to your grandma's house to get the guns. I'll have to talk to some friends to see if they have any saddlebags and a sidecar lying around," says George, deep in thought about where he could get all that by tomorrow.

At this point, George didn't want to miss the opportunity to ride the motorcycle, not right after having revived it.

So, I walk across the street and knock on Grandma Connie's door.

Knock, knock, knock.

After waiting for a while, Connie appears with her hair disheveled, and a masculine voice is heard from inside, "Connie, come to bed now!" says the masculine voice from the master bedroom.

"HOLD ON A MOMENT, YOU OLD FOOL, I'M TALKING TO MY GRANDSON!!" shouts Connie with clear indignation in her tone.

"Sorry to bother you at a delicate moment, Grandma, but I need a favor from you," I say apologetically and embarrassed to Connie.

"No problem, dear. Grandpa will always be here to help. If you don't mind, you can speak, and I assure you I'll grant your request." For Connie, this grandson has a special appeal. Not only is he the son of her late daughter, but he's also very polite and intelligent, so she has a special fondness for him.

"So, tomorrow, George, Missy, and I are going fishing, and we wanted to borrow the guns Grandpa left at home since you don't use them anymore. I assure you we'll take good care of them," I say to Connie.

At this moment, Connie enters a strange state of confusion and nostalgia, which can be seen in her eyes.

"Grandma? Are you listening to me?" After I called her repeatedly, she seemed to recover from her state of confusion. "Sorry? What were we talking about?" she asks, clearly her mind was elsewhere now. I suppose she must have remembered her long-deceased husband.

"About Grandpa's guns," I say calmly after understanding her. "Oh, yes, of course, dear. Come this way. You know, your grandpa really liked collecting them. Besides science, it was one of the few hobbies he had. Sometimes he would come to this room just to admire the collection he had," says Connie, entering a room that was dark, dusty, and full of white sheets, apparently to preserve the guns stored there. It seems Connie protected her late husband's interests. It's a pity I didn't get to know him before his death (In the series, "Young Sheldon," Sheldon's grandfather was alive until Sheldon was about 4 to 6 years old. Here, I'll make him die before Sheldon was born).

As Connie passed through the room, she put her hands on her waist and sighed, saying, "This is where he used to stop and contemplate his collection," she says, removing the cloth and caressing a Winchester Model 1894, very well preserved. To be honest, I didn't know half the names of the guns here. I only knew about this one, which was very famous in my past life. I personally love it.

I approach her and carefully pick up the Winchester, its wooden body with silver engravings, its repeating trigger shining, its long metal barrel—everything about this gun was perfect and exuded elegance. Then, I settle down, check it, and grab a cleaning kit.

Then, I look at the other guns on the walls and platforms rising from the glass floor like in a museum. My grandfather was truly a gun enthusiast. I quickly choose some and return to the truck where George was saying goodbye to an old man who brought a sidecar to attach to the Harley-Davidson.

"Hey, Big Guy, look what I brought," I say, showing the backpack containing some rifles and twelve-gauge shotguns with pump and automatic action.

"Very well, leave them in the back of the truck. I'll cover them with a tarp. We have to prepare for dinner, or else Mary will become unbearable," he says while looking at the horizon, which was already shining in gold at this time.

"Alright," I affirm while quickly putting the gun backpack in the truck and covering it with the tarp.

The next day.

Dudududududu

We were traveling with George and Missy to Choque Canyon Reserve. The city of Galveston doesn't have many reserved areas for fishing, so we had to find one in another city. The reserve was between Victoria and San Antonio.

Arriving at the location, George went to find someone to rent a boat for us to enter the lake, while Missy and I unloaded things from the motorcycle.

"Connor, this place seems dangerous," Missy asks while looking around and then finds, "Look, there's an alligator over there," Missy points.

"Relax, Missy. As long as you don't mess with them, they won't mess with you. Besides, we have this here. Just aim at the skull and BOOM, problem solved," I say while tapping on a pump-action shotgun that was beside the motorcycle. "So, there's nothing to worry about."

"Okay, okay, but what's that on your back?" she points to a large case on my back, and I say, "This, is something very special," I say to her while taking the case off my back and opening it in front of Missy. Inside the case, I take out a black folk-style guitar. "This is a guitar that I'll play while we're around the campfire."

"I didn't know you knew how to play music," Missy asks, confusion visible on her face.

"I learned to play recently. Trust me, I know how to play," I say while opening the system panel with a smile on my face, looking at the talent I received. Common Talent, Low. Honestly, I tried some songs, and they're really good. This talent is very useful.

"Yeah, right, I'll pretend to believe that. Just don't burst my eardrums; I still need them to listen to classes," says Missy, turning her face away and pouting.

Soon, we hear a voice in the distance.

"KIDS, COME HERE," shouts George to us. I quickly put the guitar back in its case, grab the bag, and go towards George.

When we get close to George, we hear, "Come on, boys, I got us a boat," he says, pointing in the distance to a semi-flat boat with a motor.

"Wow, this kind of activity really brings back memories when I was a boy. My grandpa used to bring me fishing every two months. The smell of trees, the water, the aquatic plants, the alligators in the distance, all of this brings back so many memories. Now I can do the same thing he did with me. Maybe it's a kind of tradition," says George with a look of longing, while looking at me and Missy.

"Let's get on the boat and put your things away," says George, getting into the boat and helping Missy onto the platform. I quickly get on the boat and hand George the things.

Then, the sound of the engine is heard, and we leave the dock.

End of Chapter -