Grandpa Neno and the Motorcycle

A week passed, and Neno had just stopped waking up at night thinking of that dreadful color when he heard the familiar rumbling again. Then his world turned upside down. The motorcycle wouldn't leave him be. He loved the machine yet hated its color, considering it a gross violation of everything proper. The motorcycle started breaking down at every turn, and somehow, it always happened on his doorstep. That day, Kircho complained about the suspension, and Stoyan had to lend him tools to fix it. The next week, the spokes bent. It was a real curse for Grandpa Neno.

Months went by. On a late autumn day, Kircho appeared with the motorcycle again. It wasn't a surprise for Grandpa Neno, who had gotten used to seeing him every week. But this time, there was no issue with the motorcycle. He had just come to visit, bringing gifts for him and Stoyan, for all the tough times they had helped him through and never abandoned him. They spent the whole day talking. Kircho mentioned he worked in IT, which allowed him the freedom to manage his time and work from anywhere. Neno didn't understand what that was but assumed it was one of those modern trends where men married men. That explained the motorcycle's color. Days later, Ginka had to explain what it actually meant, but on that day, everything was going so well, Neno's world came crashing down. The damned motorcycle wouldn't start. Kircho struggled for an hour, but it just wouldn't budge. They had to store it in the barn, and Kircho stayed over. They couldn't retrieve it for two days. Neno didn't mind the young man's company, but the thought of the red failure sitting in his barn was unsettling. The next day, Kircho was up early, helping in the kitchen. He mowed the lawn, picked apples, and tended to the animals. He turned out to be a very conscientious young man. Even Neno started to miss him when he left, but deep down, he knew they would meet again. And so they did. A week later, in the dark, Neno heard the familiar engine sound and immediately ran to the road, but only a dark silhouette appeared around the corner. Only when it stopped next to him did Neno recognize Kircho.

What's going on, boy, driving without lights?It burned out, Grandpa Neno. I didn't plan to come today; everything was fine, but here we are. And you were the closest.Well, bring it into the barn and come for dinner.

Neno couldn't sleep that night. The red monstrosity was at their place again. He couldn't resist. He got up and went to the barn. Until now, he had felt disgust for the motorcycle and never touched it, but the old memories from the war were stronger than his feelings of revulsion. He approached and caressed it. Despite its hideous red color, the machine was beautiful. And then he saw it. Thirty years as a mechanic in the collective farm had left their mark. He immediately noticed the headlight was unplugged. But how could that be? Was the boy that clueless? He deals with modern technology yet can't connect two wires. Such is today's youth. Full of demands but clueless and scattered. Well, he would rub it in the young man's face in the morning, showing that the old dog knew a trick or two.

Grandpa Neno wasn't a foolish man, but some things in life eluded him. It took a whole year before he understood what was happening. He realized it when Kircho bought the neighboring property, built a house, and asked for Ginka's hand in marriage. But the old man never lived to see their wedding; that was the modern way, he was told by the young. It annoyed him, but ultimately, he didn't care because until his last day, his soul was filled with the ringing laughter of Varya and Lora, the twin girls who never left the chickens alone and always stepped on his toes.

What happened to the motorcycle? It gathered dust in the barn for many years until one day, a man came to buy it. He worked in some museum and had heard that a relic from World War II was kept in a quaint Balkan village. Today, that motorcycle can be seen in the Military Museum, but in its original color, just as Grandpa Neno remembered it, just as he had always imagined it.

THE END