Page 69 of Love Story
WELCOME TO BLOOMINGTON
John had never heard of the place. He drove his car another few miles along a country road, but he didn’t make it far. The smoke coming from under the hood grew worse and his temperature gauge showed that the engine was overheating. He couldn’t afford to blow a gasket.
Finally he killed the engine again. His heart beat erratically inside him. What was he going to do? He’d come this far and now if he didn’t get help he wouldn’t make it to Elizabeth. John thought about his financial situation. He had twenty-four dollars in ones, cash he’d made helping his classmates study for their medical exams.
Not nearly enough for any major repairs.
He was about to get out of his car and start walking when a light flicked on at a house thirty yards away. John stepped out.Let them be nice, whoever they are. He felt sweat gather on his forehead. A man stepped out onto the porch as John walked slowly up the driveway.
“Can I help you?” The man had a shotgun in his hand. “Or should I call the police?”
John froze and put his hands in the air. “I... my car broke down, sir. I’m not sure what to do.”
The man lowered the gun and chuckled. “Must be your lucky day.” He set the gun on a chair and walked down to meet John. “I was a mechanic in the war. Vietnam. Fixed everything.” He held out his hand. “Name’s Wilson Gage.”
“John Baxter.” The two men shook. “I’m trying to meet up with my girlfriend. We’re... she’s... she’s going to have a baby. I need to be there tonight.”
Wilson Gage raised his eyebrow. “You don’t have much time.”
“No, sir. Not much.”
A slow nod from Wilson. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“Oil pan’s got a leak. It’s too bad to drive.” John felt the weight of the situation. “I need a repair and new oil.” He glanced back at the road. “This time of night not sure where I’ll find either.”
“Well, John. I told you.” Wilson talked like the two of them were old friends. “You broke down at the right place.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Wilson found something to plug up the hole in the oil pan. Then he refilled it with an entire quart of oil. The exact type John needed. “How do you happen to have this stuff lying around?” John couldn’t believe his luck.
“I keep lots of oil around.” Wilson grinned. “Never know when you’ll need it.”
John almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep in his broken down car and he was dreaming. “I don’t have much money, sir. I’m not sure... how I can repay you.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Christians are supposed to help people.” Wilson eyed him again, a one-eyebrow-up sort of look. “Tell you what.” The man motioned for John to follow him. “Come inside and talk for a spell. Have a cup of coffee with me and Scarlett. Then you can be on your way and we’ll call it even.”
With a desperate urgency, John wanted to get on the road. But after all the man had done, John could hardly just leave. Better to get it over with. He followed Wilson Gage into the house and sat across from him in the living room.
“Scarlett, love,” Wilson called into the next room. “We got us a guest.” He stood and pointed to a chair. “Sit there. My wife will fix something to warm you up.”
John tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. He didn’t want to be warmed by anyone but Elizabeth. But Wilson had been kind enough to help. He could at least stay and visit. After a few minutes Wilson returned with a pretty brunette. She carried two mugs and a pitcher of what looked like coffee. Wilson had a plate of cookies in one hand, the other one around Scarlett.
John stood out of respect. “Ma’am.”
“This is Scarlett.” Wilson stood a little straighter, his eyes warm as he looked at her. No question the man was proud of his wife. “The love of my life, right here.”
She blushed a bit and set the coffee down on an end table between the two chairs. She reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you.” John nodded.
Scarlett waved her hand in the air. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She smiled at Wilson. “Let me know if you need anything, my love.”
“Nothing the Good Lord hasn’t already given me.” Wilson watched her until she was out of sight. Then he turned to John. “So what’s your story, young man? Your girlfriend’s pregnant, living in another state. Has to be a story there.”
John felt the chains of anxiety tighten around his chest. He needed to get out of here. But since there seemed no other way, they both sat back down and John took a sip of his coffee. Then he told Wilson Gage the story. How he’d met Elizabeth at a dance he wasn’t supposed to be at and how they’d quickly fallen in love. Every detail right up to the drinking and losing control.
“Her father sent her away.” John gave Wilson a wary look. “He’s a Christian. Like you.”
Wilson leaned forward in his chair and pointed a finger at John. “Now wait a minute. That man’s not a Christian like me.” He shook his head. “No, no.”
