This story features a deaf character. He's okay with it. I hope you are too. If anyone in the deaf community sees anything that is embarrassing or not respectful let me know and I will tweak it.
Big Jock
Darcie
could
have blamed the whole amazing summer on that one piece of trim from an RV some asshole didn't pick it up out of the road after he winged a tree. But that was just the trigger event, wasn't it? She had to take
some
responsibility for what happened next. I mean, the tires on the Land Rover were pretty bald in the first place. Her dad had already given her the money for the new tires; only there was Cabo at Spring Break and those new cross-trainers. So, yeah, it wasn't
just
the fucking piece of metal that caused the slow leak on the way back from the ropes course where she was a counselor.
She
could
have called triple A and had them take her to the fancy tire place up in the Northeast Kingdom. But that would of meant all kinds of hassle, and trying to get a temp rental for a day, or what? She didn't know.
So she called her mom and said, "Hey, is there a garage near here, like near you that has tires, cause some crap in the road just blew one but if the place is near, like near you, I could leave it and walk home, and get it later?"
And her mom said, "Your dad was right, though I hate to admit it. You should have gotten the things at that place right near campus. But fuck that. I get it, and yeah, there's the Moosehead Garage where I take the Subaru, and, surprise of surprises, they carry a load of tires because the Looky-Loos are always going off road and... well, you know.... And they might even have something to fit that hoitsy chariot your dad got you. Just go past the house and it's a half mile on, on Route 3, aka chuckhole road. Can't miss it. Moose on the roof. See ya later. Oh, you want me to pick you up?"
"Nah, never mind. Maybe they'll be quick."
"Quick they ain't. But they do what they say and
rarely
cheat me."
"Can I tell them you'll pay for it?"
"Mebbe, but you'll owe me."
"K. I'll make my lasagna."
"That's a start. A lot needs doing around here and you've got aaaaallllll summer."
"Rub it in."
"Guaranteed. Have a nice walk."
"Uh huh."
The place was shabby; right on the edge of the forest, but not junky, and it looked like they did real work.
And
there was a later model BMW and a vintage Caddy on the lot, so....
The manager/owner's name was Angus and he was a small, wiry man with wire rim glasses and hair the color of copper wire.
"I can replace all four for a good price; and you need me to do that because, y'see, the left rear will blow soon. Damn, lassie, you can see the belting through the worn down tread, And, oh, this one is cupping like crazy. I'm sorry, I can't let you drive out of here on these. I've got a really nice set of steel-belted Yokohamas will fit just fine. Get you back and forth to the ropes course all summer wi'out a misshap."
She didn't know him. She hadn't said boo about her job, only that she need a tire.
"Mom?"
"She called and told me your story. Wouldn't let me sell her the Michelins either, though they're a sight better."
"What she said. Because you know she doesn't take crap. And she knows where you live, I'll bet."
"Indeed she does." And the look in the corner of his eye told her something she wasn't quite ready to know.
"Um, should I wait? Is there a place I can sit and read magazines, or dumb game shows?"
"It'll be a mite longer than that. Tell you what, I'm heading out to get some parts. I can drop you by your house. You might have to walk back, since your mother has the Shakespeare group this evening."
"So it won't be ready until evening?"
"You could get it in the morning."
"Nope, we've got a literally crack-of-dawn hike; before, really, because we have to be at the lookout on Chief Peak at sunrise. You won't be here."
"No. Nor Jock, my nephew. He'll be doing the tires. Come back this evening. It's a nice walk. You might see a moose or a loon on Lake Juniper."
"Jock. Sounds as Scottish as they come."
"'Tis. He participate in the highland games. Throwing the caber and that."
"Should I call him to see if it's ready?"
There was an uncomfortable little silence.
"Jock doesn't fancy using a phone. Y'see, he's a wee bit deaf. Fact is, he can hear almost nothing. Great worker, though. Best mechanic I ever had. He'll give you your car and your paperwork just fine."
So that was that. He dropped her at home and she and her mother played canasta and drank tequila. Canasta! Enough tequila to feel a buzz but enjoy the woods getting noisy with peepers along the road.
And. And she
did
see and hear
two
loons and she was
pretty sure
she saw a moose hiding in the rushes at the far side of Lake Juniper. Wow. Good to be away from campus, and physics seminars, and a boy/man who sometimes shared her narrow bed, and was
very serious
and sometimes fun; and fit her body and 'proclivities' pretty well, and hinted about
a future
without making demands. And. Said the 'see others' speech, on their last night on campus, after a fine Italian meal,
looking up
from between her legs where he had been trying valiantly to get her off. And she didn't cry. Or come. And she said, "Okay." And they went to sleep and left the next day.
Flash forward three weeks and she was happy, and single, and so far none of the other trainers at Ropes was hitting on her. And that was good.
And then she had to get her tire fixed.
There was nobody in the front office. They couldn't have forgotten and gone home, could they?
"Jock?" She yelled through the back door of the empty office. "JOCK!" She yelled louder, and then felt stupid. She knew from working with a deaf class at Ropes the year before that it was all about catching people's eyes. The trainers had had a crash course in ASL, but there also was just a lot of...gesticulating. It worked.
She went out the back door of the office into the shop. It was surprisingly large, with six bays and a couple of cars up on lifts. Some work areas with well-organized tools on pegboards. Clean cabinets with other equipment. Only one area at the back was lit. She looked for a light switch so she could signal by flashing the lights. Couldn't see one.
Where was he? Had he left? Was her mom going to have to call 'Angus' and have him make a special trip out here?
Then she spotted him. There was an alcove at the back. Some big piece of equipment in it, maybe that thing that takes the tires off the rims. But it looked sort of like an art gallery, because there were rows of pictures on the walls above the bench. A large man stood gazing up at them and he seemed
very busy.
Had he not finished installing her tires? But no, wasn't that the Land Rover on the lift, with four clean, shiny new tires on it?
Some other job, then, that required steady repeated motion. And hard work. She could hear a grunt or moan on each stroke. Hmm. She had an idea of what kind of job this man was doing with his hands.
What to do? She couldn't just walk up and say, "Excuse me, as soon as you are done beating your meat could you give me my Land Rover there. I'd much appreciate it."
She chuckled at the thought; hushed herself; remembered that he couldn't hear her, or see her, really because the shop was quite dark, and he was concentrating on the pictures, which she saw, as she crept closer were nicely matted centerfolds from vintage girly magazines. Hmm. Well.
She and Jock, she had to assume it was Jock, shared an interest. Her preferred porno was women; usually women alone, although women with other women was also titillating, and of course her ex had no problem with that.
Now she got another surprise; two, in fact. When she passed a workbench it was revealed that Jock had his pants around his ankles. Jock was large in other ways, too. His haunches were massive and the pale moons of his buttocks, clenching regularly with his efforts, were big and strong. His legs were like columns. He still wore a tight t-shirt, with a picture of a large moose head and the Garage name. What a back! Massive shoulders and a fine curving neck topped by a great head smothered in gold-red curls.
