How I got My Yamaha

By Joseph L. Zeleny

“If you’re looking for a motorcycle, I have one you can have.”  A co-worker at Chevy’s heard me talking about needing a new car since mine had been stolen.  I really wasn’t interested but he and I were building a good friendship so I figured it was a good way to spend some extra time together.

I showed up at his house and he walked me around to the side yard where he had been storing something under a cover for so long it was covered in webbing and had dried up stagnant water puddles in it.  I remember thinking that I was about to look at the ugliest thing ever to take the road on two wheels.  How do you turn down a free motorcycle without insulting someone?  He removed the tarp and what I saw was not what I expected to see.

A 1982 Yamaha Maxim 650 in pristine condition stared back at me in all its black and chrome glory.  There were no cracks and you could tell the bike had never been in a wreck or even laid down on its side.  The bike was an absolute thing of esthetic beauty.

“I have no idea why it won’t run.”

He told me that he hadn’t looked at it in years and his wife wanted it out of the house before it fell on one of their kids.  I offered him money for it but he told me that all he wanted was to ride it one last time if I got it running.

We got back in the house and did the paperwork and I took the key from him.  I borrowed a friend and his truck. The three of us were able to get it in without too much problem.  We got back to my place and took the bike down and into my back porch. Exhausted and knowing I had to work the next four days in a row I went to bed.

The whole week I worked I saved up my tips so that I could fix whatever was wrong with it.  I told my regulars, who gave me a few extra dollars in tips to contribute to my cause.

Well almost everyone.

One of my customers was a pretty lonely guy who just came in to drink and talk to the staff.  I didn’t think he had a lot of money and so would often fill his beer when nobody was looking.  No I did not steal from Chevy’s.  My tip money would go into to make up for his beers.  A couple of days after hearing I had gotten my bike he brought a big box in.  It had a new helmet, leather coat, and the owner’s repair manual.  I’ll tell you, I had never hugged a customer, male or female, while at work.  But I lifted this guy up in the air.  He said he had bought it the day I told him about it but brought it to me on my Friday so that I wouldn’t be tempted to call in sick.  I laughed and told him I had a better work ethic than that.

No I didn’t.

As soon as my shift ended I hopped on the bus, for what would be my last trip on public transportation, and headed home.  The entire way home I went through the entire troubleshooting manual over and over, so much so that by the time I got to my place I was able to go through them all without looking at the book.

Replace all the fluids, check.

Battery Charged, check.

Spark plug good, check.

One by one I went down the list but couldn’t figure it out.  I thought maybe it was just dead.  I was starting to get angry when my phone rang.  I answered it to a whispery voice asking if I could keep a secret.  I didn’t recognize the voice at first until her southern accent kicked in.  It was the guy who gave me the bike’s wife.

I told her I could keep a secret, but she was married.  She laughed and asked me seriously the second time if I promised I could keep a secret.  I told her yes, I could keep a secret.  She told me to check the fuel line and hung up.  I cut off the valve and pulled the hose.
There it was, her guilt and pride at the same time I am sure.  She had shoved a BB in the line feeding from the tank to the engine.  I took a skewer in from the other side and pushed the little blocker out through the black rubber hose.  I hooked it back up and within just a couple of tries the engine started back up and purred like a kitten.  A really loud kitten, but a kitten none the less.

I hopped on and drove it straight to the Chevy’s in Vallejo.  I had a promise to keep.  Well, two of them now.