The Wrestling Girl by S. David Acuff & Marleah Huffman

Author:S. David Acuff & Marleah Huffman [Acuff, S. David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bravo Bay Books
Published: 2021-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

CK sat inside an old Chevy pickup at Pop’s Garage. He pumped the accelerator to listen to the engine and make sure there were no more ticks or knocks. It revved and growled, but sounded beautiful. More importantly, the check engine light was off. Oil pressure was good. All was well. Satisfied, he cut the engine.

Immediately in the motor’s silence he could hear a loud angry voice coming from the direction of Pop’s office. He slid out of the truck and headed quickly in that direction passing Zeke and Dillard, both running the other direction. Both of them looked a fright. He grabbed Zeke’s arm. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Cecil,” was all he’d say, before pulling away and disappearing around a corner. The dog loped along behind him.

CK noted the look of panic on his face and steeled himself for the worst. He rounded the corner. A large man leaned in on Pops. He was a head taller than CK and had a muscular build, but CK wouldn’t call him “in shape.” He seemed a little pudgy and chewed up. Like maybe one of those kids who would have been the star High School quarterback back in the day, but now sold life insurance at the mall. Only this guy had a feral look about him that made him infinitely more dangerous.

“Pops.” CK slid in the door, close enough so that his range and proximity would be an instant shock to the aggressor. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, CK.” Pops smiled gently and put a soothing hand out. “Cecil was just leaving.”

Cecil was not just leaving. He spun around toward CK, a little caught off guard that the slighter, wiry man had snuck in so close. “Get out! This has nothing to do with you,” Cecil bellowed.

That voice tended to melt most people and send them away cowering and afraid. Like Zeke. But not CK. “My boss, my workplace, makes it my business.” CK squared up to him.

“We’re okay, CK.” Pops came over to put himself more between the two of them. “Cecil was just leaving.”

“He’s not driving all doped up like that, is he?” CK asked, observing the redness around his eyes.

This angered Cecil even more. “I ought to break you right now, you—”

“Cecil!” Pops said picking up the phone. “I am calling the police!”

Cecil grabbed the phone from his hand and slammed it down. The room went silent. “The way you can help me,” Cecil repeated evenly, “is to give me the loan.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Pops stood his ground.

CK slowly moved his hand around a crescent wrench on the work bench behind him.

“Can’t? Or won’t!” After no answer from Pops, Cecil shoved some books off the corner of the desk and stormed out of the office, shoving past CK.

“Pops.” CK released the wrench and went over to him. “You okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m fine.” Pops nodded his head sadly.

CK watched through the blinds as Cecil exited the shop in a huff knocking over one more toolbox on his way past.

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