After stripping the bike to just an engine and frame and searching all the parts we removed, we placed the remainder on the shop floor and removed a battery from one of the shop trucks. Steve gathered up some wire from the scrap bins and made a pair of lightweight jumpers and wired a 10 amp fuse inline so there would be no more fires. If there was some sort of radio powered off the battery hidden somewhere inside then 10 amps at 12 volts would be enough to run it without risk of another fire. But that was why we removed the battery from the truck in case our calculations were wrong.
Wooley hooked up the leads and it was then the old motorcycle started reciting his first of many poems,
all the way to Timbuktu,
I've been rode around the world...
The four of us stood there looking at each other. No one knew quite what to say. If it was a trick it was amazingly well done. The voice was clear with no hint of speakers or anything electronic. And if there was a speaker and a receiver of some sorts or a play back device then it was tiny and hidden inside the engine or frame.
"We're opening that bastard up," Steve said. "We're going to find what's inside.
"Just promise you'll put me back together when you're done," the motorcycle pleaded, "I want to tell you my life's story about when I was a motorcycle and not just a rusted hulk."
"Yeah, right." Wooley said as he disconnected the battery.
"Wait a minute," I said, "hook it back up."
"You don't really believe that's a talking motorcycle do you?" my brother asked, concern showing on his face.
"Naw," I laughed, "but someone is going through a whole lot of trouble to pull a prank and the longer we keep him talking the easier it will be to find that hidden transceiver." But secretly, deep down inside, I was hoping the old motorcycle really was talking to us.
Wooley hooked the battery back up. "So you're not cutting me apart?" the motorcycle asked.
"What about we restore you?" I asked, "What would you think of that?"
"You mean so I could be ridden again?"
"Just like new," I answered, "perhaps better than new."
"You'd do that for me?"
"You say you have a story to tell. Well it just so happens I'm a storyteller myself and I think I'd like to hear your story."
Donny, Wooley and Steve just stood there looking at me and the motorcycle. I probably know what they were thinking at the time.
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