Something in Dale’s voice—the low rumble, the calmness—made Emmett pause for just a second. Still crying, but listening.
“I’m scared too,” Dale said honestly. “I’m real sick. That’s why I’m here getting medicine. It makes me feel yucky. But you know what helps me? My brothers. They sit with me. Hold my hand. Make me feel less alone. You think maybe I could sit with you? Make you feel less alone?”
Dale slowly extended his hand, not to grab Emmett, just offering it. “You don’t gotta come to me. But if you want to, I got strong arms. And I promise, I won’t let nothing hurt you.”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then Emmett, exhausted and desperate for anything different, reached one small hand toward Dale.
Dale took it gently. “There we go. You’re doing so good, buddy.”
Slowly, carefully, Dale sat down in the room’s chair and opened his arms. To everyone’s shock, Emmett climbed out of his mother’s lap and into the biker’s arms. He was still crying, still scared, but something about Dale felt safe.
Dale settled Emmett against his chest, the toddler’s ear right over his heart. Then he started doing something odd—he made a low rumbling sound with his chest. Not quite humming, more like a motorcycle engine idling. A steady, deep vibration.
“My kids could never sleep without that sound,” Dale said softly, the rumble continuing. “Their mama used to hate it when I’d rev up the bike at night, but it was the only thing that worked. Something about the vibration calms the nervous system down.”Continue reading…
