Flash fiction entry. Don't ask her to work on cars.
| Karen could clearly hear her husband’s voice in her head. ”Changing the battery is easy. All you have to do is wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah.” Maybe ‘clearly’ wasn’t the right word. She knew she wouldn’t be able to remember the short walkthrough he’d given her over the phone.
Standing in her suburban driveway, the car’s hood sat open; so did the lid to the toolbox. She had the new battery sitting there. The guy at the shop had assured her it was the right one. Of course, he could’ve handed her a brick covered in plastic and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Why her husband insisted on her learning to do it herself, she couldn’t tell, but she was determined to give it her best.
Karen took a deep breath, and looked at the old battery. “Alright you hunk o’ junk, we’re gonna do this. You don’t scare me.”
With all the determination she could muster, she searched and scanned, tested and tried each tool that looked like it might fit. She turned and cranked, pushed and pulled until she was certain she was going to break something. It just wouldn’t budge. It was like somebody had welded this thing into place.
She was just about to give up when her neighbor came out to see what was going on. He walked to her driveway before looking at her project. “Whatcha got going on, Karen?”
”Oh hey, Jim. Frank wants me to change the battery myself. I think I’ve almost got it loose.”
”Gonna take you a while.” The man pointed to the opposite side of the engine from where she was working. “That’s yer battery. “
Karen nodded her head. “Yeah I know. This way Frank gets to fix it.”