Mechanic

Crataegus?


Last car I owned was a full-size station wagon, 1989 Country Squire. One morning in November 2000 it got totalled at the corner of Jarvis and Shuter. I haven't owned a car or needed a mechanic since.

Sunday afternoon Brenna noticed the Sunfire's muffler support dangling. I kept the exhaust system intact all the way home on an atheist's prayer. Yesterday I visited my old mechanic. Three young men stood kibitzing under a car.

One approached me. His name was Stef: 6'2", lithe and jaunty, shaved head, reddish-blond goatee, grey eyes, ready smile, musical baritone, loose mechanic's garb. I told him about the bracket.

"Happens all the time," he said.

We brought the car in right away. He asked how I stumbled upon the place. Old customer, I told him.

"Must have been long time ago," he said. "I know every face that came in here the past five years. Photographic memory."

When the boss appeared, he remembered me, and my old wagon. Stef found a new bracket somewhere, had me out of there in 15 minutes.

"Happens with every Sunfire ever comes through here. Gotta watch how she dangles."

Damn, that car is due for a brake check now.