No false purity.
Just responsibility.
Outside, the clouds began breaking.
Gray sky turned pale orange near the horizon.
The Little Girl looked at the fading rain.
“We have to go?”
Her Mother checked the time.
“Soon.”
The child looked disappointed.
The Biker Leader was surprised that he was too.
The Mother gathered her coat.
The Little Girl closed the sketchbook.
Then reopened it.
“Wait.”
She tore nothing.
Instead, she carefully removed another page along the perforated edge.
The drawing of the rescue.
She held it toward the biker.
“This one too.”
He shook his head.
“One is enough.”
“No.”
“Kid, your book’s going to be empty.”
“I can draw more.”
The biker looked at the picture.
Woman.
Rain.
Wreck.
Tiny unborn child.
Him.
He accepted.
“Thank you.”
The girl smiled.
The biker did not tell her nobody had ever given him anything more valuable.
That felt too large to place on a child.
Instead:
“You charge commissions?”
“What?”
“People pay artists.”
Her face brightened.
“How much?”
Her Mother groaned.
The biker laughed.
“Negotiator.”
The Little Girl considered.
“Twenty dollars.”
The biker stared.
“For one drawing?”
“Yes.”
“Robbery.”
“Ten?”
“Five.”
“Fifteen.”
“Seven.”
“Twelve.”
The Mother said:
“Absolutely not.”
The Biker Leader looked at her.
“We’re conducting business.”
“You are teaching my child extortion.”
One biker behind them said:
“Ten is fair.”
The Little Girl pointed.
“Ten.”
The Biker Leader sighed dramatically.
“Fine.”
He pulled out his wallet.
The Mother stopped him.
“No.”
He paused.
The girl looked between them.
Her Mother said:
“The gift stays a gift.”
The biker understood.
He returned the wallet.
The Little Girl nodded.
“Next one costs ten.”
“Deal.”
They stepped outside.
The rain had become mist.
Motorcycles shone beneath streetlights.
The Mother opened the umbrella.
The Little Girl ignored it and walked directly toward the bikes.
The biker followed.
She pointed toward his motorcycle.
“This yours?”
“Yes.”
“Can I touch it?”
The Mother looked toward him.
He nodded.
“Engine's cold now.”
The girl ran her fingertips carefully along the black fuel tank.
Then chrome.
She looked fascinated.