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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/705457
Rated: 13+ · Book · Contest · #1704519
For Sr Mod WDC 10th Birthday Contest
#705457 added September 7, 2010 at 9:43am
Restrictions: None
Low Rider


In perfect condition her left foot.  This was the third time in as many months that Dee decided to stall.  The Packard stared at Antonia defiantly, its beautiful lacquering reflecting nothing so much as a stubborn disregard for deadlines.  She needed to get into the city by two.  True, maybe she shouldn’t have waited until one-thirty to leave the house, but the drive should only have taken twenty minutes.  She would have been there in plenty of time, if the car hadn’t died on her.

“That’s a righteous ride.”  The speaker was a man near her father’s age in a pickup truck.  “But those are temperamental babies.  She stall on you?”  He climbed out of the cab and came over to inspect Dee, whistling appreciatively.  “Mind if I pop open the hood?” 

Antonia nodded.  “Not at all.  Can you tell what’s wrong?” 

“Well,” he said after a bit, “You have large rust chunks in the fuel tank.  I can hear some debris rattling around in there.  It might also be the choke.  I’d have to take her to really know.”  Only then did she notice that the sign on the side of his truck: Arnold’s Maintenance and Repair Shop.  Which worried her more than it reassured her.  She didn’t know very much about cars, but everything he described sounded expensive.  And where was she going to get that kind of money?  Especially since she’d never make it to the job interview now.

“Excuse me a second,” she said to her unlikely Samaritan.  “I have to make a call.” 

Antonia called the gallery to explain about her car troubles.  Although she managed to reschedule the interview for the next Monday, there was no way she was getting the internship now.  It was another blow in a year of them.  She’d end up working at McDonald’s at this rate.  Which she’d do, if push came to shove.  That’s how badly she wanted to go to the Rhode Island School of Design.

Hanging up, she turned towards the man.  “Thank you so much for stopping.  I appreciate your help.  I’m Antonia Acevedo, by the way.” 

“Matthew Arnold, miss, and garage owner.”  They shook hands.  “I think I can fix her up better than new for cheaper than anything you’ll find nearby, though you might want to call around and get a second opinion.  But I’ll arrange for a tow, no charge, so she doesn’t sit out in the rain.”  He looked up at the sky, which was looking rather ominous.  “That sound alright with you?” 

She’d have to call Star for a ride.  Not something she looked forward to.  “That’s sounds great, thank you.”  They exchanged insurance and contact information, and started making phone calls.

But of course Star didn’t pick up the phone.  Why would she, when it interrupted her soaps?  And her father was off on one of his mysterious business trips. Antonia contemplated calling Dean, but things between them were still awkward.  Well, it wasn’t a terribly long walk, although she wished she had a poncho.

“Do you need a ride?”  Mr. Arnold was watching her with a mixture of wariness and concern. 

“No, it’s not a long walk.”  She sighed.  “I wish I knew more about cars though.  Wouldn’t be in this mess.  Thank you though.” 

“Hop in.  I’ll take you to garage and call you a cab from there.  Give you a few pointers on keeping the old girl running.”  He opened the passenger door and helped her in. 

It seemed a long shot, but at this point… “You wouldn’t happen to need an assistant at the garage, would you?” Antonia asked.

“We need a bookkeeper.”  He looked over at her expectantly, “Or an office manager.  You good with numbers?”  She laughed.  Of course they would need a bookkeeper. 

Shaking her head, she replied ruefully, “I’m a painter, and pretty good with my hands.  Office work?”  She shrugged.  “Not so much.” 

“You paint?”

“Paint, sculpt, a little pottery.  Not really useful.”

“I don’t know about that.  Can you weld?”  She looked over at Mr. Arnold, who was grinning widely at her. 

“Why yes, I can.”  She loved her car, she really did.  Antonia hadn’t been looking forward to the gallery internship anyways.  But it would have looked great on a college application.

“Then I might I have room for you.  Provisionally, mind you, to see if I can teach you the rest.  When can you start?”

“Well,” she smiled back at him, “why not today?”

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/705457