Not again. The grease aimed for the bearing had ended
up in Josh's eye. He swiped at it with the back of his hand, and
then swore again as someone honked for gas. When was Gus
coming back from break? Where was Fred? He wasn't supposed to be
here alone, trying to work on the lift and pump gas at the same time.
But the horn blew again.
Cleaning his hands on a greasy cloth, Josh came out of
the bay and was immediately blinded by the sunlight that
streamed through the trees. A poetic moment, the sparkling leaves,
the. . . . Nimbuses. God, he was good. How did he remember these
words? Three quick taps on the horn shook him back to the moment.
Oh, no. It was the girl from class. That girl. That girl whose name
he didn't know. What was her name? Hello, girl. Not too cool.
Hi, sweetheart. Dumb. Hi, Babe. Like maybe.
"Hi. Need some gas?"
"I thought you worked here. And I was just driving by
and noticed the sun coming through the trees. And you know what
I thought?"
"Yeah. I mean, no." Why was she looking at him
so strangely? She seemed focused on his forehead. He ran a
hand across his brow and she laughed.
"You're a real grease monkey, aren't you?"
"Huh?" Jesus. He had grease all across his forehead.
And she was laughing at him. Was she mocking him?
"Look at the sun in the leaves. It's your kind of image.
You should write a poem about it. Gotta go." Her car window slid
up but she left her smile floating in the air. Josh watched the red
Miata disappear around the corner and then he hit himself hard on the
side of his head.
`Huh?' Every time you see her, you say, `Huh.' No
wonder she's impressed. And what have you got on your face? Grease.
The new fashion statement.
"Going to a costume party tonight?"
"Huh? Oh, hi Gus."
"You've got the mark of Zorro across your forehead.
Looks sexy." Gus pulled a pencil out of his pocket and feinted in
Josh's direction. "En garde."
"Knock it off. I'm trying to get that wheel back on
the Chevy, and it's not going well. Give me a hand."
"Just a minute." A car pulled up to the pumps.
"Whoops. Two minutes, and then I'll be with you."
As Gus went out the door, the sun blinded Josh
again. Samantha? That girl had wanted him to write a poem. Only
lovers wrote poems for girls. What did she think he was? Uh, oh.
Well, maybe he was. `The sun burned through the leaves the way
your eyes burn through my heart.' Yeah, right. `The sun illuminated
the right front wheel of the Nova as it wobbled down the street.'
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