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‘Try not to wreck it before we even get it on the road,’ Garovel said.

“Yeah, thanks...” He whipped his leg over the side and steadied himself. He was abruptly thankful it wasn’t taller, because his feet barely reached the ground. He attempted to mimic what he saw the guy do before, but Garovel stopped him as he went to turn the spindle below the handlebars.

‘Don’t do that,’ the reaper said. ‘That’s the choke. It enriches the fuel-air mixture in order to make the engine start more easily, but you only want to do that when the fuel is cold--or in other words, when the engine hasn’t been started recently. Otherwise, you’re just wasting fuel.’

“Oh... how the hell do you know anything about motorcycles, anyway?”

‘I had a passing interest in them a few years back. I remember when I first saw one. Looked like a lot of fun. Then the guy riding it crashed into a hedge.’

“How comforting...” He started the engine.

‘My knowledge is pretty spotty, though. You’ll be shocked, I’m sure, but I’ve never actually ridden one personally, so you’ll kinda be on your own with some things.’

With the engine roaring, Hector reverted to thought. ‘Great... can you, um... can you at least tell me how to start moving?’

‘Shift into first gear, and it should start going on its own, I think.’

‘Uh... how do I shift into first gear?’

‘There’s a lever by your left foot. Push it down.’

He did as Garovel said, and indeed, the bike began to drift forward, slow enough that he could walk with it. ‘Now what?’

Garovel hesitated. ‘Um...’

‘Really? That’s the extent of your help?’