After several quiet seconds, Rick smiled.
“So we decided to do something.”
He motioned toward one of the motorcycles.
A woman climbed off and approached carrying a large wooden box.
Mom gasped.
Dad stared.
The woman handed the box to Rick.
Rick opened it.
Inside were dozens of envelopes.
Dad blinked.
“What is this?”
For the first time all morning, Rick looked uncomfortable.
“We passed the hat around.”
Dad stared.
Rick shrugged.
“Actually, we passed it around a lot.”
Several bikers chuckled.
Another shouted, “And Rick wouldn’t stop asking people.”
“Shush,” Rick shot back.
The crowd laughed.
Then he looked back at Dad.
“We know treatments aren’t cheap.”
Mom covered her mouth.
I felt my chest tighten.
Rick continued.
“We know you’ve been missing work.”
“We know things have been hard.”
Dad stood speechless.
For perhaps the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say either.
Rick handed him the box.
“Open it.”
Dad slowly opened envelope after envelope.
Each one contained money.
Some held checks.
Others contained handwritten notes.
Mom began crying.
Dad swallowed hard.
“Guys…”
His voice cracked.
He couldn’t continue.
One biker grinned.
“See? We finally found a way to shut him up.”
The crowd burst into laughter.
Even Dad laughed through his tears.
