Mark Bollinger hung up the phone and turned
to his wife. “Well, that was
Tucker. His cancer has metastasized on
his spine and pubis. It does not look
good for the old boy.”
Sue watched Mark. She knew how important Tucker was to
Mark. Mark had been 12 years old when he
had met Tucker. At that time Tucker had
been living up the street from Mark in St. Louis. Tucker
had lots of old motorcycles in his garage and Mark was fascinated with this
cool, old guy. Hero worship, she was
sure. But over the years Tucker and Mark
had kept in touch and remained friends.
Tucker had helped Mark restore his first bike and it was a bond that had
never been broken or bent.
“Well, honey, what do you think? Is there anything you can do?” But she knew before he spoke what was
coming. She knew this big bear of a man
and knew that inside the rough exterior was a marshmallow. Mark would give up his life for his friend
and Tucker Fuhrman was his friend.
“Well he has to go through 10 days of
radiation. He won’t be able to
drive. Somebody needs to be there. I am sure his brother won’t be able to, so I
guess that leaves me. I know you can
keep the shop on an even keel without me.
If I didn’t have all the faith in the world in you I wouldn’t even ask.”
“Oh?
And is this how you ask?” She
laughed. “And since when do you need to
ask my permission? Honey, I know you
better than you know yourself. Of course
you are going to Pueblo. He would do the
same for you. I just want to know when
you are leaving.” She reached down and
picked up the little Yorkie and cradled it in her arms. Mark reached over and rubbed the head of the
little dog.
“Just as soon as I can pack and gas up the
truck.” He turned quickly away so she
would not see the tear glistening in his eye, but he was not fast enough.
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