The Mining Town

This story started with me thinking of a mechanic I know in my town. A good man who tries to help those in need. I ran with that idea. This story talks about lawyers, mining towns and auto repair. I know nothing about the first two, but hopefully it comes across as respectful to both. I do know something about auto repair, but even there, I took some creative liberties with the story.

Unlike my first few stories, there is a bit of sex in this. That part of my writing is still a work in progress, so bear with me.

This story is much more light-hearted than my previous ones. If darkness if your thing, beware this might not be to your taste.

The Mining Town

John

The picture shown on the tiny screen was not good. The valves had definitely made contact with the piston. He pulled the borescope out of the hole and sighed. The fault code had indicated an issue with the timing of the engine. Given the size of the dents in the piston, John thought that was an understatement. A rebuild or a used engine were going to be the only options. Neither was cheap and he knew Mrs. Fertig didn't have a lot of money. Her husband had passed earlier than he should have, and she had been laid off from the offices of the local mine a few years back when they announced they were closing. She was trying to find work while surviving on a meager pension until she could start collecting Social Security.

He gave another sigh and headed to the office. He had other work to do, but Mrs. Fertig was looking for a part-time job and needed the car. He had lent her a car in the meantime, one he had fixed up a bit and was trying to sell. But he needed it back to recoup the money he had sunk into it. He owed the news to Mrs. Fertig, but he didn't feel comfortable leaving her with a bill for thousands of dollars, so some phone calls were in order to see what he could do.

He called the two local scrap yards. The first didn't have a suitable engine. The second did, but the price was too high. John tried to talk him down as much as he could, they both knew Mrs. Fertig after all, but Rob was running a business as well. He had already sold John two motors at a loss over the past year for other customers that were down on their luck. He couldn't afford a third.

John was pondering his next move when the phone rang. It was Mike, the owner of another repair shop with whom he was friendly. They had a tow truck and were responsible for a portion of the interstate that ran near town. Mike's tow truck was headed to pick up a broken-down car, which they normally would have serviced themselves. But he explained that all three of their bays were tied up with big jobs and the woman who owned the car seemed desperate to have it fixed.

John chuckled at the damsel in distress angle Mike was trying to play on him. John was a softy, and Mike knew him well enough that the ploy worked. John agreed to work on the car. He told John what would be owed for the tow. John could mark it up a bit if he wanted and they'd settle up after he fixed the car.

Yet another sigh. Mrs. Fertig would have to wait a little longer. John needed to get the brakes done for another customer so he could look at the woman's car when it arrived at his shop. It was just a front brake job, so did not take him long to complete.

The rollback pulled into the parking lot just as John was torquing the last of the lug nuts for the finished brake job. He went to his utility sink to scrub the dirt and brake dust off his hands.

When he was finished, he came around the corner just as the rollback had parked in a spot where the car could be unloaded. Another sigh...this day may break a record.

On the back of the rollback was a newer Audi. While it didn't look brand new; it was definitely made within the last five years. This meant whatever was wrong with it would probably be better served by someone with a degree in computer science than by a mechanic in an old mining town. No wonder Mike didn't want the job.

The passenger door on the truck opened and the owner of the Audio stepped out. This time John silently chuckled to himself. A woman that looked to be around thirty, with sandy blonde hair and large sunglasses stepped out. She was a little unsteady climbing out of the truck given the high heels she was wearing. She wore a white blouse with some frills on it. Several buttons were undone, but not enough to show cleavage. The knee-length skirt was a cream color, and she wore a matching jacket over the blouse. A dark red bag, slung over her shoulder, completed the ensemble. John knew nothing about fashion, but to his eyes, everything looked expensive.

The scene was a little surreal to John, which is why he had chuckled earlier. It reminded him of the fish-out-of-water films a previous girlfriend of his liked to watch. He knew the tropes in those movies well and was interested to see how this played out.

John walked up to her, stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm John."

There was no hesitation, she took his hand and shook it. Interesting, John thought.

"Hi, I'm Patricia. Thank you so much for helping me. They said the other shop was too busy."

"You're welcome, but I haven't done anything yet. These newer cars are complicated and sometimes have issues that only the dealers have the tools to fix. Not trying to scare you, just setting expectations."

"Yes, the tow truck driver..."

"Stan."

"Yes, Stan! Thank you...uh he mentioned that. He also said the nearest dealership is over an hour away. So, I thought I'd take my chances."

"Is it no longer under warranty?"

"No, it was only a three-year warranty that expired a couple of months ago. I should have extended it, but I've been too busy."

"Ok, no worries. Well, if you'd like to sit in the waiting room, I'll help Stan get it unloaded and I'll see what I can do."

Patricia took her sunglasses off. She had a beautiful face and light blue/grey eyes. John started to get lost in them for a moment when Patricia continued their conversation.

"Thank you, I appreciate it..." She paused for a moment and looked side-to-side before continuing."

"...and do you have a restroom I can use?"

She almost looked embarrassed for asking. This was definitely not playing out like the movies.

"Of course, door to the left-hand side of the counter in the waiting room."

While the building and most of the things inside it were old, John kept his shop meticulously clean. He even painted the floors in the shop area at least once a year. A clean floor made leaks in the cars he serviced easier to find.

Patricia headed inside to use the bathroom and John got to work helping Stan undo the chains that held the car down. Stan said the keys were inside the car, so when they rolled it off, John was able to set the electronic parking brake. He still lamented the lack of a handle for it.

John tried to start the vehicle, but nothing happened when he pushed the button. He hopped out, thanked Stan and shook his hand, then headed inside for his scanning tool. Plugging in to the port under the dash, he scanned for any codes. The codes that came back were not familiar to him, but they all mentioned fuel delivery issues. Probably manufacturer-specific codes. All the car companies had them these days as they relied more and more on electronics to make their vehicles go.

John headed back inside to his office with his scan tool. He was going to use the best tool available to the modern mechanic: Google. He spent about half an hour doing research and looking through various forums, weeding out the comments from people that definitely did not know what they were talking about, regardless of what they claimed. Finally, he felt he had a solid lead. A control module for the fuel pumps was known to fail prematurely. The module was located further down in the engine compartment and the heat from the exhaust tended to cook the module.

The dealer would be able to get the part, but John knew that could take a while and they weren't close. He'd be taking up time heading to and from the dealership that could be better spent working on his customers' cars. He called Rob for the second time today. He got lucky; a car that had the model controller he needed was rear-ended on the highway by a tractor trailer, hard enough that the car was totaled by the insurance company. Not lucky for the owner, of course.

It was close to closing time at the yard, but Patricia had said she was in a hurry, so John asked if there was any way he could get the part this evening. Rob and John had known each other for years so he had no problem letting him come over and pull the part from the car himself. John thanked him and hung up, heading out of the office to tell Patricia her options.

Patricia sat in the waiting room, legs crossed, looking down at her phone. She looked up as John approached.

John explained what he had found. He emphasized that the dealership would be able to nail down the problem better than he, but she expressed she was in a hurry, so he wanted to offer a possible solution. Patricia was relieved that he was trying to fix it and understood that a trip to the dealer was still a possibility.

"So how long do you think it will take?" Patricia asked with a bit of a pleading look in her eyes.

"Well, the owner of the yard is going to let me pull the part out tonight. So I'll head over there now and get it out. I'll come in early tomorrow and install it. Will that work for you?"

"Yes, of course. I think you're doing more than enough." Although her words expressed that she was pleased, John thought her tone and manner held a bit of worry.

"I just, I guess I need a place to stay tonight. Is there a hotel in town?"

"There's a motor lodge up the road. It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and the owners are good folks. They also own the bar and restaurant next door so you can get something to eat."

"How far is it."

"Just down the road a bit." John responded, but then looked down at her heels. "But too far to walk in those. I'll give you a ride over. Do you have anything in the car that you need?"

"Yes, my rollaboard."

"What's a rollaboard?"

"It's a small suitcase that can fit in the overheard bin on airplanes. I guess they call it that because they have wheels, and you roll them onto the airplane."

"Huh." Learn something new every day, John thought.

Patricia

It was supposed to be a pleasant trip. Stop in the office for a bit in the morning. Spend the better part of the day driving. Check into the hotel early, have a nice dinner, get some sleep. Get some work done in the morning, then meet with the client for lunch. Simple.

She could have flown, but between driving to the airport, dealing with TSA, rental cars, etc., she decided driving the five or six hours was the better option. Hindsight being what it is, it now seemed the plane would have been the better option.

She had called Audi roadside assistance, who informed her that since her warranty was expired, they could come get her, but she would have to pay for the towing as well as the repair costs. While she didn't have money issues, the estimate they gave her to tow the vehicle an hour and a half to the nearest dealership sounded like extortion. Taking it to the dealership also meant there was no chance she would make her meeting tomorrow. That, plus the less than stellar experiences she had with her local dealership, left her willing to gamble on getting it repaired at a local auto shop instead.

She waited about 45 minutes for the tow truck to arrive. It took about ten minutes to load the car and another 15 to get to the shop. On their way into town, she noticed a few rundown areas, but for the most part, the town was clean and well maintained. As they passed through the small downtown area, she couldn't help noticing how quaint and adorable it was. There was even a barber shop with spinning barber pole. It brought a sense of nostalgia, and she imagined older folks would describe the main street as their childhood town coming to life.

They passed through the town center and traveled another half of a mile before the truck pulled down a side street and into the shop's parking lot. As she exited the truck, she admonished herself once again for not wearing sensible shoes for the drive. At least she hadn't fallen face-first onto the pavement, Patricia thought as she closed the door and turned to the shop.

A man walked out of one of the bay entrances. He looked to be in his early thirties, tall and lean with a slightly rugged, but good-looking face. He walked right up and extended his hand. Patricia was starting to develop a talent for sizing people up in the courtroom and it extended to her personal life as well. She could tell John was confident through his manner and introduction. She felt he was probably honest, but would wait until their dealings with her car were complete before she finalized that opinion.

Her biggest problem at that moment was not her car though, it was her need to use the restroom. She was looking for a rest area or place to stop when her car broke down, which was closing in on two hours ago. John had pointed her to where the restroom was inside the shop. The décor in the waiting room was dated, but extremely clean for an auto repair shop. She headed around the counter and into the bathroom, happy to find the same level of cleanliness.

Patricia checked her work emails on her phone for a bit while in the waiting room. She looked at the time and it occurred to her that unless it was something simple with her car, she may be spending the night here. She was just opening her maps app to look for a hotel when John came in and delivered his verdict. The dealership would have been the safer option, but it would also mean she would miss her lunch meeting tomorrow. She could try and rent a car, make the meeting, and then get her car later. That route came with its own complications however, so she decided to stick with John and hope for the best.

John offered a ride to the motor lodge, and she had accepted. Patricia saw the sign as they pulled into the parking lot, Greenwood Tavern and Motor Lodge. Patricia remembered seeing the restaurant on her ride through town in the tow truck. The lodge portion extended perpendicular behind the restaurant and couldn't be seen that well from the road. John parked in front of the office and let Patricia out.

"Thanks for the ride, John."

"You're welcome." John reached into the center console of his truck, took out a pen and a card. He scribbled on the back and handed it to Patricia.

"Here's my cell number. Just text me your name. I didn't start the normal paperwork I do for customers, so I don't have your contact info. I'll call you in the morning when I'm done with the car. Then I can come pick you up."

"Oh yeah, I hadn't thought about that...thanks."

Patricia got out of the truck with her bag and suitcase and headed into the office.

*****

The room was clean and well supplied with toiletries and towels. Patricia agreed with John's assessment that the people that owned it were "good people." The young woman that helped her was sweet, with none of the bored indifference that many late-teens/early-twenties kids seemed to exude these days. When she was nearly finished with check-in, a woman Patricia pegged to be in her late forties came out from the office in the back. The woman had overheard Patricia's story about her day and offered her a menu dinner delivery from the restaurant. She had actually planned to head over there after she cleaned up, so politely declined.

Showered and dressed, finally wearing some comfortable sneakers, Patricia opened her laptop to check and answer some emails. She realized that it had been an hour and half she had been working and her stomach was starting to complain. She had not eaten lunch, and the small muffin and coffee she had this morning had long ago given their last calorie.

Patricia closed the laptop, grabbed the room key, and headed out the door toward the restaurant. She opened the heavy wood-plank door and stepped in. She instantly loved it. It was heavy on natural wood, with knick-knacks and mementos that looked as if they were stuffed into corners and crevices over many years. There was a bar that extended down and away from Patricia for the length of the room. Tables and booths took up the rest of the space, with the restrooms to her left before the bar and an entrance to the kitchen at the far end. A hostess stand was in front and slightly to her right.

A waitress approached Patricia and smiled as she greeted her, "Hi, are you dining alone tonight."

"I am, but can I eat at the bar?"

"Of course!" the hostess replied.

Patricia headed toward the bar and took a stool toward the middle.

John

John went to the scrapyard and removed the controller that he hoped would fix Patricia's car problem. He then went back home to shower and change.

John was soon back in his truck and headed to the Greenwood Tavern. He pulled up front and headed inside, taking the first stool at the bar as the bartender came over and placed a napkin in front of him.

"Hi Danny"

"Hi John, what can I get for you?"

"Can I get a bacon burger, medium rare, to go please?"

"Sure, anything to drink while you wait?"

"Yeah, a pint of Stella please."

"Coming right up."

Beer poured and placed in front of John; Danny headed off to help other customers. John was just taking his first sip when he heard a voice from a few stools away.

"Hi stranger, long day?"

John looked to his right, confused for a split second by the woman that addressed him before he realized it was Patricia. She wore track pants and sneakers with a collared sweatshirt that partially zipped up in the front. Her hair was held in a ponytail. It was quite the change from the woman that stepped out of the tow truck. If it were possible, John thought she looked even better.

John chuckled before replying, "Not as long as some, I guess. I was able to get the part for your car, so I just have to put it in tomorrow."

"That's great, I appreciate the time you're putting in on it. I'm sure you'd rather be home with your family."

"No worries, and my family has passed." The ashen look that came over Patricia's face worried him until he realized the meaning of her statement.

"Oh! I'm sorry, you meant like a wife and kids family?" Patricia just nodded.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, no...no wife and kids...at least not yet. No, I meant my parents passed when I said family."

Some of the color returned to Patricia's face, "Well, I'm still sorry about your folks."

"It's ok, it was a few years ago now, so I'm ok...sorry again about that."

"It's ok." She returned "Hey, would you like to join me?"

John thought for a moment, it looked like she had just started her salad, so he agreed. He didn't want to keep her if she was almost done with dinner and stayed while he finished his to be polite.

"Sure." John said as he got up with his beer and sat on the stool next to Patricia.

The conversation passed easily between them. Little bits of history and anecdotes from childhood flowed back and forth. The plates had long been cleared away and several drinks had been consumed when John begged his leave as he wanted to get an early start on Patricia's car.

John headed home simply happy he had a nice evening. While he could readily acknowledge that Patricia was beautiful, sexy, smart - the list could go on - his mind didn't go down the path of her being anything other than a customer with whom he spent a nice evening. She was a lawyer at a large firm, although he imagined she could easily be a swimsuit model. From the moment she stepped out of the tow truck, the stereotype of her being out of his league was so ingrained that his brain didn't even register the possibility of anything transpiring other than a conversation.