| BEACH "What do you mean you can't fix my car?!" Arnold's face was already red and sunburned, but his rage boiled up behind it and turned his expression a deep crimson. He brought his steaming glare right in front of the mechanic's face and held it there in a desperate attempt to intimidate the man. The mechanic held a gaze with him as he wiped his hands clean with a dirty rag. Even though the mechanic was a head smaller than him and probably twice his age, the deepening wrinkles and the sharp jaded black stubble told Arnold that he had stared through many men just like himself before. Still, he thought that he might win something, even if it was just an apology, so he defiantly stood his ground. The mechanic shook his head silently and chuckled to still dirty hands as he meandered to the other side of the auto shop. Arnold's glare fell to pieces. He bit his lower lip and then took a couple of uneasy steps after him. "Hey! You can't just leave me like this!" The mechanic was still chuckling softly to himelf over Arnold's protest. As he wiped the sweat off of his forehead, Arnold decided that he had had enough. He had been in this hellhole of a town for more than a week. It was hotter than any hot he had ever experienced, the locals were an unfreindly gang of questionable characters, and there wasn't a phone for 100 miles. He reached out with his arm, spun the mechaninc around, and grabbed him by the collar.. Arnold brought him close to his face. He took a deep breath and asked the man again, but very slowly. "What do you mean you can't fix my car?" The mechanic smiled with yellow teeth and cocked his head sideways like a puppy, his denim hat pushed all the way to the back of his balding head. "What do you mean what do you mean I can't fix you car? I said I couldn't fix it." He looked down at Arnold's hand with the smile still on. Arnold reluctantly relaxed his grip and the man pulled himself free. "You told me a week ago that you would be able to fix my car. I asked you how long it would take, you said it would take a week. Well, my freind, it seems a week has past and, according to you, my car has not been fixed." Arnold leaned against the hood of his automobile, not realizing that it was extremely hot, and popped back up again. He continued. "I can understand the delay. Maybe you ordered some parts and they haven't delivered them because we are in the middle of fucking nowhere. That's not your fault. What I don't understand is how you had a week--a whole week--to fix my car and i just find out today that you can't fix it?" The mechanic had been putting tools haphazardly into a chest while Arnold was talking. He stopped and turned around and shrugged very decidedly. "I was tryin to fix it. Then I reckon bout four days ago it turned unfixable." Arnold blinked a bead of sweat off of his eyelid. "Four days?" The mechanic nodded very slowly. "Four days ago? Why did it not occur to you that four days ago you could've told me that my car wasn't going to be fixed?!" The mechaninc opened his mouth to say something but Arnoldhad cut him off as he made a diaogonal across the garage to the open door. "Perhaps you couldn't find me? I don't know if you were aware of this, but there are only three buildings in this town, and then 1,000 desert. Remarkable! One is an auto shop, one is a truck-stop diner, and the last one," Arnold said, raising his voice as he pointed across the street, "is a motel that only has five rooms, four of which are CURRENTLY UNNOCUPIED!" Arnold stood in the pool of light that beamed in through the open garage door, his arm pointing to the hotel and his chest heaving up and down. The mechanic chuckled his funny little chuckle as Arnold slid down the wall. He pulled the dirty rag from his pocket and wiped his oil-stained brow. He looked over his shoulder at Anrold and shook his head and started chuckling again. Arnold sat there for a little while, before he deciced to go back to his room and think about what to do next. He was just getting up to leave when the mechanic stopped him. "Reckon there's one thing you could do fer me." Arnold slowly stopped, but didn't turn around. "There's a feller comin into town t'night on a truck route. His name's Beach. He ain't never been beatin at arm rasslin b'fore. If you beat him t'night, I might just take another look at your car, free of charge." He made a big rainbow with his arms on the last statement as he grinned his big yellow grin to Arnold's back. Arnold nodded slowly and then continued across the street.. <><><> Arnold slid onto a stool at the counter. The diner only had two employees. There was a red-headed heavyset woman who was graying above her ears and an old African-American cook named Sam who worked the grill in the back. The woman wasn't extremely talkative wtih Arnold, but every night at 6:00 all of the truckers started arriving and she'd laugh and talk and wait on everyone. He'd only been in the diner with all of the truckers one night during his stay. They'd all come in one by one and sit in the booths; each one would order a coffee and yell jokes to Sam while they waited for their freinds. He'd felt a bit out of place that night and all of the truckers politely ignored him, so he always left when the first ones began to arrive. But tonight he'd have to stay and wait. The lady moseyed over to the counter and leaned in on her elbows. "What'll it be today, cowboy?" He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. "I would like a coke, lots of ice, and...how about one of those fine cheesburgers?" "Sure thing. You want any hash browns with that burger?" "Uh, no thanks." She smiled at him and yelled over her shoulder. "Sam! How bout you cook up one of them fine cheesburgers the man here likes so much?" Sam's head beamed into the serving window from the kitchen. "Sure thing!" His head dissapeared around the corner again. Arnold glanced around the diner as the woman filled his glass with ice, then poured a coke into it. She brought it over and set it on a napkin on the counter in front of him and placed a straw right next to it. Arnold nodded a thank you and she smiled and went back to reading her paper. Arnold brought the glass up to his lips, feeling the cold rise off of it into his nose. He was about to take a sip when the phone rang. The woman reached over and picked it up. She seemed distressed at what the other party had to say and when the conversation ended she stood up and took her apron off. Arnold resumed sipping his drink. "Sam? That was Ms. Thorne. Jenna's gotten sick at school again. I have to go pick her up, wouldja be a dear and hold the shop till I come back?" She waited for Sam's smile to come around the corner of the serving window before she thanked him and left. He sat there for a little while listening to the popping and hissing of his cheeseburger on the grill in the kitchen. Sam's face came to the window again. "You look a little down and out, friend." Sam wore a puzzled frown. Arnold waved his hand in the air and shook his head. "I got a couple of problems that I don't know if I'll be able to fix." Sam frowned and then dissapeared into the kitchen. "You got a look on your face, boy. I've seen that look before." Arnold heard his clicking of plates and the hissing of a cheesburger being lifted off of a grill. "You have the look of a man who's about to challenge Beach to his own game." Arnold sat up and frowned. "How did you know?" He lifted his glass of coke to his mouth. Sam stepped out of the kitchen into the diner. Arnold choked on an ice cube. Sam was standing in the doorway, a prosthetic arm with a spatula at the head hanging stiffly at his left side and a prosthetic arm who's three metal fingers were clasping a plate with a perfectly grilled cheesburger at his right. His face was very solemn. "I know because I once had that very same look." "Oh, god..." Arnold stood up quickly. Sam stepped behind the counter and extended his arm. The three metal fingers unclasped and the plate slid out of his grip neatly onto the counter next to the glass of coke. His unblinking eyes stared deep into Arnold's frightened face. Sam suddenly burst out laughing. "Just playin! No, sir, I lost my forearms to a combine machine bout ten years ago!" He laughed a loud laugh and his big shining smile came back. Arnold let out a sigh of relief as he sank back into the stool. "You scared the heck out of me. I thought that you lost your...." Arnold trailed off as he rolled his fingers in the air. Sam nodded. PAGE 2 |