Second Hand Heart (28 page)

“There’s real people at the auto-parts store. And I can’t afford to piss ’em off.”

“What about your snack-shop customers?”

“She’s actually pretty civil with them. She saves the mean mouth for us, I think. I never asked where you two kids are going.”

“Don’t know yet,” I said.

“Just traveling for the sake of traveling?”

“Not exactly. It’s like there’s someplace calling me. Like I half-remember it. But I’m not quite sure what it is. Or where it is. I know some things about it, though. Like I know a lot of people go to it. It’s busy. It’s not like some out-of-the-way place in the middle of nowhere. And I know it’s one of those places where, when you first see it, you make a noise out loud. Like you say, ‘Ooooh,’ when you didn’t even mean to. Or you suck in your breath so loud the person standing next to you can hear it. And I know it’s red. I mean, not bright red, but like the way red-rock places are red.”

Eddie whistled softly. “You got your work cut out for you there, kiddo. In the southwest US of A, that does not exactly what you might call narrow things down much.”

“Where would you start looking if you were me?”

“Maybe the Zion and Bryce Canyon area. Sedona’s like that. Grand Canyon, of course. Glen Canyon. Maybe Escalante and Capitol Reef. Or Arches or Canyonlands.”

I sighed, thinking that was a lot of places, and they were probably all hot.

“I guess we’ll have to try them all, then.”

I saw Eddie look up, so I looked up, too. Somebody was driving up to his shop. It was a couple, not too old, maybe late twenties, in one of those really old American pickup trucks that’s been cherried out to look real nice. A classic. But it didn’t sound as good as it looked. It was sputtering and coughing, and there was something like either smoke or steam coming out from under the hood.

“Pull her in here,” Eddie yelled, and motioned for him to take the empty bay, but the engine died, and then it wouldn’t go any farther than that.

Shit, I thought. Even though I usually don’t swear, not even on the inside. We’re not getting out of here after all.

The guy stepped out and walked around the back of the truck and started yelling and cussing and stomping over something he saw there. I was thinking it was too hot to be so mad, but he seemed to manage. He was wearing one of those wife-beater tees to show off his arm muscles, and tight jeans with a big oval belt-buckle about the size of a flat lemon.

Eddie walked out into the sun and around the back of the truck, and looked at the something with him, and then they pushed the truck inside. I heard just enough to know that the reason the guy was so upset was because water was coming out of his tailpipe. I guess that’s not a good thing.

“You limped it too far to get it here,” Eddie said. “Huh?”

“I could’ve walked, I think, but she didn’t think she could. Or she said she couldn’t anyway.”

He pointed to the back of his girlfriend, or wife, or whatever, who was disappearing into the cool snack shop, shaking her head. Her perfect hair never even moved. She had this look like she was done with this whole mess and wanted no more to do with it.

I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions that she was his girlfriend or wife. I mean, Victor isn’t my boyfriend or husband, just because we’re on the road together. But I still think I was right, because they were ignoring each other with that quiet sort of fighting that friends mostly don’t do.

“It wasn’t even that far, but it was so hot. I think she just wouldn’t. And now I bet I blew a head gasket.”

“Just hope that’s all you did, son. Hope you didn’t warp the heads. Or even crack your block.”

“Oh, shit, man. Don’t wish all that on me.”

“I don’t wish any of this on you. I hope it’s the easiest thing possible. I got more work than I know what to do with. Don’t have to make my whole living just on you. It’s gonna be a big job one way or the other. Even if the heads are just warped, I have to send ’em off to the machine shop in Barstow. We’re probably looking at a few days minimum.”

See? I was right, I thought. We’re never getting out of here.

“How soon can you look at it?”

“Maybe near to the end of the day. Maybe morning. Depending on when I can get done with this water pump for this nice young lady.”

I caught Eddie’s eye. Like asking him what he was doing. What he was saying. But he just looked away again. I looked up to see Victor drive up in Eddie’s truck.

“Oh, look,” Eddie said. “You’re in luck. Here comes my assistant. If you like, I’ll have him drive the two of you to a nearby motel where you can cool down some and get a hold of your nerves. And I could call you. Keep you posted.”

“That would be good,” the guy said. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

“Hey, Victor,” Eddie called as Victor got out of the truck. “Don’t even unload those parts yet. I got another little job for you to do.”

Victor came into the shade of the shop and Eddie pulled him aside and slipped him some money. I wasn’t close enough to see how much it was.

But I heard Eddie say, “Take these people somewhere they can get a room, and then let me know where they land.”

Victor looked at the money and said, “What’s this for?”

And Eddie said, “Well, your repair is all paid. So I’m paying you to do this extra job for me.” Victor tried to argue, but Eddie said, “Don’t argue with me. The longer you stand here arguing the hotter these two are gonna get, and they’re hot enough under the collar as it stands.”

So then Victor loaded them both in the small front seat of Eddie’s little pickup truck, and off they went down the road, disappearing in the wavy lines of heat over the tarmac. And Eddie went back to doing our water pump.

“Why didn’t you put paying customers first, Eddie?”

“Your repair is paid.”

“Yeah, but they’re paying with real money.”

“Besides,” Eddie said. “I like to do things one at a time.”

The Desert at Night

N
ight is my favorite time here. It gets all the way down under 100. Eventually. Not until way after dark, though. Sometimes I take Jax for a little short walk when it’s almost dark, and he runs around and lifts his leg on everything. Usually Victor comes along, but tonight he was doing one more job for Eddie.

Eddie had just knocked off work. He finished the water pump and then started getting into the engine of the cherried-out truck so he could tell that poor couple what was what. So then, when he knocked off later than usual, he paid Victor twenty dollars plus gas to drive into Barstow and bring back a pizza from Eddie’s favorite pizza place. I was thinking that would have to be a pretty good pizza. It’s a long way to drive for an ordinary one.

Anyway, Victor got to drive there in his very own running car, which made him happy. And since his car didn’t have air conditioning, we didn’t have to worry that Eddie’s pizza would get cold on the long drive home.

Jax and I went for a little walk by ourselves. The moon was up, nearly full, and there was something that was just almost barely like a breeze. It made me glad we decided to stay one more night. I love the desert at night and I hate it in the day, so it would be a shame to spend more days than nights.

I think we’d have been on the road already except for Eddie’s pizza, so I liked the pizza idea.

The giant thermometer said 104.

Underneath the giant thermometer, not too far away, there’s a big rock. And on the rock there’s always this cast-iron skillet with two eggs in it. Somebody around here must put two eggs in it every morning, so people can watch them fry in the sun during the day. They’re plenty crispy by this time of night, believe me.

Jax wasn’t on a leash, so he sniffed his way over there and ate the eggs. I guess that was OK, because they have to put fresh ones out in the morning anyway. I think if Jax hadn’t eaten them the coyotes would come down and get them in the night.

Then I wondered if they were fresh enough, but it was too late. But they didn’t make him sick, anyway. He was OK.

So, back to the coyotes. Coyotes are very hungry. So hungry that we have to keep Jax in the tent with us at night. Even though he’s big. Bigger than a coyote. But Eddie says if there are enough coyotes, a whole pack, they’ll go after a big dog. Depends on how hungry they are.

But I don’t want to get off track.

We turned for home, and … That’s funny, huh? I just called Eddie’s gas station home. We have definitely been here too long. And then Jax and I saw that Victor was back with the pizza, and Jax ran to say hello.

I was tired. So I just walked.

•  •  •

We sat in the back, on our sleeping bags in the dirt, because inside the tent we wouldn’t feel that tiny breeze.

Victor got out some trail mix that we were going to have for dinner.

But then all of a sudden Eddie was standing over us, holding the pizza, and we looked up.

“So, who’s hungry?” he said.

And Victor said, “Eddie. You can’t pay me twenty dollars to go get a pizza that you’re going to turn around and share with us.”

Eddie sat down cross-legged in the dirt without even using his hands. Just sort of folded up and sat.

“Why can’t I? Seems to me I can do what I want. So long as nobody gets hurt.”

He put the box between us on the ground and opened the lid. Victor had to hold Jax back.

“He can have a piece,” Eddie said. “It’s a big pizza.” He was right. It was a big pizza.

We started into the pizza, and it was that really good kind of pizza where you lift up a slice and the cheese drips all down, and it takes some time to gather it all up again. I was really hungry for the first time in as long as I can remember.

“How’s that truck?” I asked. And Eddie frowned.

“Bad. He cracked his block.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The engine block. That’s the whole enchilada. Normally you crack your block on an old car, you just throw the car away. That’s what most people would do, anyway, unless it’s a valuable car. But this truck. You should see the engine. All chrome. I mean, the valve covers and the air cleaner and stuff are all chrome. It’s so clean you could eat your lunch off it. Not a drop of oil leak. It’s this guy’s baby, I can tell. I hate to call him up and tell him. I figured I’d give him one good night’s sleep before I break the news.”

“How long will it take to fix it?”

“Oh, more than a week. If he even has me fix it. Job this big, sometimes people don’t. Sometimes they call their brother or their cousin or their buddy to drive out here with a tow bar. Help ’em get the damn thing home. So we’ll see. So where are you guys headed in the morning?”

I was glad he asked, because we hadn’t decided. We’d been talking about it for a while but then Victor had to go on his pizza run before we figured it out.

Victor said, “We’re trying to decide whether to start at Zion or the Grand Canyon. We were looking at the map to see which is closer. I’m thinking Zion, because then we don’t have to backtrack to Barstow to pick up Route 40. And because we figured it would be cooler.”

“Cooler?” Eddie laughed. “You figured Zion to be cooler? How’d you do your figuring?”

“Well, it’s so much farther north.”

“It’s also a lot lower in elevation. And a lot hotter. Distance wise, it’s more or less a draw. But the Grand Canyon South Rim is around seven thousand feet in elevation, and the North Rim is over eight. High eights in places. So that’s your better bet for cool. Plus when you get to about Williams, you have a choice of the Grand Canyon or Sedona. Bout the same amount of drive from there. You could flip a coin.”

Victor and I looked at each other. Jax had finished his slice and was waiting and drooling, hoping for another one.

“Cool?” I asked Victor.

“Cool,” he said.

So that’s how we decided that in the morning we would backtrack to Route 40 and head due east.

Then Eddie looked right at me and said, “How do you remember this place, anyway?”

I tried to look at his face, into his eyes, but it was almost completely dark by then. I could see the tall thermometer behind him, and it was lighted up at 102. I didn’t answer at first.

“Was it someplace you went to when you were a kid?”

“No,” I said. “I never got to go anywhere when I was a kid. I was always too sick.”

He didn’t ask any more questions, but I could tell he was waiting. Victor was waiting, too. You see, I never really told Victor how I remembered the place I was looking for, either. I just said it was one of those things that was hard to explain.

“My new heart remembers it,” I said.

“Your new heart …” Eddie kind of trailed off. I could tell he wanted to know if I meant that literally. But maybe it was too personal a question.

“After I got my new heart, I remember some things that I think it saw before it knew me. But that I never saw.”

“I heard of that!” Eddie said. Excited now. “I saw something about that on the news! People who used to be vegetarians, and then all of a sudden they get a transplant and start craving bacon, and then they find out their donor loved bacon. Wow! That’s really interesting. I wonder how that would feel. Is it something you can even explain?”