Page 52 of Goodbye Paradise
“Sure,” she said. “All I need to do is hit the drugstore at some point. We’re almost out of diapers and wipes.”
“Is there one near the garage?” Josh asked. “Caleb could save you the trip.”
“Oh, would you?” Maggie asked. “I’ll make a list, with the brand names and everything.” She went back upstairs.
“Is that okay?” Josh whispered. “I could go with you and do the shopping.”
“No problem,” I said.
Acouple of hours later, I parked Maggie’s car at the drugstore, which was about two hundred yards from the garage. “So…” I said.
Josh and I locked gazes for a moment. “I’ll take my time here. Give me the keys, okay? I’ll wait in the car when I’m done.”
My eyes drifted out the window, toward the garage across the intersection. Yesterday I’d given Josh a speech which was meant to convince him that there wasn’t a thing wrong with us. But the ugly truth was that Ididneed him to stay out of sight for the next hour. I needed this job, whether or not the garage was staffed by an entire team of Ezras. “I guess that’s a good plan. I’m sorry that I can’t say exactly how long I’ll be.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be fine.” His clear eyes regarded me trustingly. It made me want to kiss him, but of course I didn’t do it.
“Knock ‘em dead.” Josh grinned. “But not literally. Because they wouldn’t like that.”
I held up a fist, and Josh bumped it. We’d seen that little maneuver on television, our new favorite vault of cultural knowledge.
Then we got out of the car and went our separate ways.
I crossed two busy streets and walked into the front of the garage, where an older man with bushy eyebrows that I hadn’t seen before was standing over the receptionist.
“Good afternoon,” I said. “I’m Caleb Smith, and…”
“Caleb Smith!” the man boomed. “I’m Joe Perry. Glad you could come in, son. I got back from my vacation and the guys told me you’d come in twice to fill out an application.”
“Yes sir.”
Joe Perry snorted. “You hear that!” he hollered over his shoulder. “The new guy calls mesir!Y’all should show a little more respect, like he does.” He chuckled. “Follow me, Caleb Smith.”
The older man led the way into the service bays, where five or six mechanics inPerry’s Garagejumpsuits had three cars up on lifts. “This is our operation. We’re open six days a week. Can you work Saturdays?”
“I can work any day, sir.”
Joe chuckled. “New rule, boys! The rest of y’all have to call me ‘sir.’”
Great. Now they would all hate my guts.
A red-haired guy raised his head from the engine of an F-150. “Sir? You can kiss my ass, sir.”
Joe Perry threw his head back and laughed. He jerked a thumb at the redhead. “That there is Danny. Stick with him, okay? He’s smarter than he looks.”
“Yes…” I caught myself before adding the “sir.”
“Now let’s get you some paperwork. Can you start tomorrow? I’ll give you twenty hours a week to start, but it could go up. You’ll have to do a lot of oil changes at first. Somebody’s gotta be on the bottom of the heap, you know? You got a plan to get your certification? There’s more jobs I can give you if you’re certified.” He stopped in front of a very messy desk and turned around.
“I want to get certified, but it’s going to take me a little time. Been working on engines my whole life, but nobody cared about paperwork.”
The old man’s giant eyebrows lifted. “Why not?”
Self-conscious now, I rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, it was a kind of crazy religious place out west. Most people would call it a cult, I guess. I ran away from there last month.”
“Jesus H.! That’s a hell of a story, I bet.”
Not one I’m sharing.
