Emendare by R. E. Bradshaw

Author:R. E. Bradshaw [Bradshaw, R. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998954981
Publisher: R. E. Bradshaw Books
Published: 2019-04-20T07:00:00+00:00

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“You don’t have to take his money,” my dad had said.

I was digging in a pile of parts, looking for an old wiring harness we could use on a go-cart we were making. We had decided we needed lights. The pile I searched happened to be outside of the camper where Asa had been living since the incident with JP and his frat brothers. The windows were open so I could hear everything being said.

“I can’t keep living off you, John,” I need to make some extra money so I can get my car from Virginia.

“I’m paying you top dollar by the hour. You don’t have any expenses.”

“I know, but I can’t make it fast enough.”

“How about I go get your car with the wrecker and bring it down here. We can fix it. No charge.”

Asa refused Dad’s offer. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“I’ll pay what you owe, Asa. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want to start out like this. I don’t want money in the middle of this relationship.”

I kicked over a pile of hubcaps, ending my covert listening activities.

“Shhh. Who’s out there?”

“It’s just me, Dad. I’m looking for something.”

“Don’t be spying on folks. It isn’t polite,” Asa said, smiling at me when he stuck his head out the window.

He looked better now. His face was almost healed. I thought he looked like a young Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke. It was probably the devilish grin he seemed to always wear.

I answered him, “I’m not spying, but folks that don’t want to be heard should shut their windows.”

Asa’s grin widened. “Fair enough.”

“I need a wiring harness. Know where I can find one?”

“What’s it for,” my dad asked. He was out of the camper and had come around to the other side where I was digging in the smashed up front end of a Pinto.

“For the go-cart.”

He wiped his hands on the faded pink shop rag, a habit he had even when his hands were clean.

“Look over on the other side of the garage, by the oil drums. There’s a box of different ones under the window.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I ran past him, as he called out, “Be careful. Look for snakes.”

“See you later, Harriet the Spy,” Asa called after me when I rounded the camper.

“Later, dude.”

When I got to the front of the station, I saw JP Spencer getting back in his car. I slid to a stop. My low top canvas tennis shoes kicked up a cloud of dust.

He yelled out the passenger side window, “I put five bucks on the counter. Tell your dad it’s a lousy way to run a business. I could have stolen the damn gas, and he’d never have known.” JP rubbed his chin, the scar still pink and healing. “I’ll catch you later, Jane Doe.” He pointed his finger at me like a gun and pulled the imaginary trigger, then he blew away the smoke at the end of his finger barrel.

His Nova SS roared to life with his laughter, before he sped away, making sure to lay some rubber on the new road as he went.

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