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"Guess so." The man put out the cigarette on the sidewalk and placed the stub inside the big rusted hunk-of-junk car through the open window. Somehow, the cig stayed intact, even with all the kids screaming and tussling inside. Then Scruffy unscrewed the connection between the fuel filter and the carburetor, reached inside the car, and turned over the engine. Fuel sprayed across the engine, carving little canyons in the built-up oil and dirt.
"Hey, turn it off. You're blowing fuel everywhere!"
"Huh." The man leaned into the engine compartment. "I thought the filter was clogged, but I guess not."
"No, guess not. Your battery is working too, since you're spraying fuel everywhere." Ryan stayed away from the disaster zone.
"But the car won't start. And the battery's getting weak."
"It's not the fuel filter." With the engine coated in leaking oil and grease, it was hard to say what the problem might be.
"Got that." Scruffy reconnected the filter and got back in the car, pushing aside a kid or two. He tried to turn it over, but sure enough, there wasn't enough juice left. "Give me a jump?"
"How much fuel is on this thing? You could start a fire, you know." It was more than probable with all the junk coating the engine.
Scruffy shook his head. "Nah, it's not that much, man. Just give me a jump."
Ryan sighed and hooked up the battery. Nothing like experience to teach someone the error of their ways. He backed away from the vehicle, ready to run inside and call 911 if it went really bad. "Okay, it's hooked up."
Scruffy turned over the engine. Surprise, surprise. The engine caught on fire. Ryan circled wide around the engine compartment. Keeping his voice calm, he leaned toward the window. "Your car is on fire."
Suddenly, kids streamed out of the car, one almost knocking him over. The man turned the engine off.
Ryan twisted his hand like he was starting a car. "No, keep turning it over! It'll suck the fire back in and put it out!"
The guy actually listened and kept turning it over. The carburetor sucked the vaporized fuel down and burned it inside the engine. And the car finally started. Ryan cautiously stepped up to the vehicle. Some flames still flickered, but they were dying. "Better keep an eye on it. Make sure nothing happens until it's all out. You're probably going to need a battery."
"I don't have any money. Gonna have to make due until payday."
Ryan unhooked his battery and cables, carrying them to the door, but returned to the car. "Hey, I need the screwdriver, please."
Scruffy scowled but handed it back. Then he started yelling at the billion kids running around the parking lot to get back in the car or they wouldn't go swimming.
Really? The car was unreliable, but Scruffy was taking an unnecessary side trip. And, once again, Ryan didn't get so much as a simple thank-you. Figures. Snorting, Ryan walked inside. Everyone in the store, customers and employees alike, stared at him. "Yeah, yeah, show's over folks."
Chapter 7
Shocking Revelations
The bright Coffee and Cars sign seemed ominous. Ryan wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans and rotated his shoulders, trying to calm his nerves. The job didn’t worry him, but the woman sure did. His new boss. Maybe. Ryan took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself, but it really wasn't working. Time to get it over with.
A sign on the door announced a temporary hour change. Ryan entered the coffee shop, the rich, smoky scent smacking him in the nose. He trod the long, quiet room filled with empty tables, his tennis shoes squeaking slightly on the concrete.
Erin perched on a stool behind the counter, typing on a computer. She flashed a smile. "Hi, Ryan. Have a seat. I'll be right with you." She tapped at the keyboard. "Just got to finish this order."
"No rush. Not doing anything else today." He slid into a chair, gripping the seat tight to keep himself from running out the door. He didn't want her scrutiny. Or her pity.
But he didn't want to be anywhere else, either.
Erin wore jeans, a form-fitting "Coffee and Cars" logo T-shirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail, without a bit of makeup, and she was gorgeous. She bit her lip. He wanted to kiss it, make it all better. Down, boy. You're here for a job, not a date. Ryan shifted, uncomfortable on the hard chair.
Erin got up and sat at the table across from him. "Thanks for coming out, Ryan. What did William tell you?"
"He said your girl got in a fight and quit and that you needed someone to run the coffee shop in the morning. He also said you might exchange rent on an apartment for work and that I might get some space to work on a car." Slow down! You sound like an idiot. You're going to blow this, Walsh.
Erin smiled slightly. "That's the basic facts. I need help making drinks and serving folks in the mornings, so I can work on cars. I'd like to find someone who will trade work for rent on the apartment upstairs. Frankly, I'd like someone who'd work full time, but since William brokered this deal, I'm willing to compromise. Do you know anything about coffee or espresso?"
Ryan shook his head slowly. "I drink regular old coffee, not fancy drinks with stuff in them, but I can learn."
