Memory
By
J. L. Young
I woke to a horrible screeching noise coming from the front of the car. My dad slowly turned the wheel as the momentum brought us to the side of the highway. All I could see of his face was the worry in his eyes reflected by the rearview mirror. “Dad, what happened?” I asked while wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“Something’s wrong with the engine. Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he replied. After he put on his coat and gloves, he opened the door and slipped out into the cold.
He nearly disappeared from the army of snowflakes that attacked him. I heard the crunching of the snow at the driver door. He opened it and got in while trying to shake off the cold. “The weather report is right. It feels like negative twenty out there,” he joked.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as the heat was slowly replaced by the cold.
“I don’t know yet. I have to take it apart to find out.”
I could see his worry turn into determination. He slipped out of the car once more into the white. The back door opened, he grabbed his tool box, and closed the door again.
Every now and then, the door would open and he would climb in. Eventually, he found the problem. “The bearings on the crankshaft went bad,” he said and blew into his hands. After he explained to me the importance of these components, he thought silently and looked through the repair manual we brought along.
A few minutes later he came up with an idea. He handed me a couple of cans of Coca-Cola and asked me to drink them while he did the same. As soon as he finished one he began marking them with a marker. As soon as the cans were marked, he began cutting them and smoothing the edges with a piece of sandpaper from the toolbox.
A bunch of hilarious belches later, he disappeared in front of the hood. It was starting to get dark. I put on an extra coat, bundled up more, and grabbed a blanket. After opening the door, I slid beneath the car and found my dad wrenching away at a bolt. I put the blanket over both of us and held the flashlight.
Not long and the oil pan was back on the engine. Dad asked me to grab the fresh oil from the back of the car. I did and when he poured the oil it looked like molasses. We both shivered waiting for the oil to empty into the engine.
He asked me to start the car and after a couple of failed attempts, it finally started. The snow let up enough for me to see the smile on his face after he closed the hood. I scooted over into the passenger seat as he climbed in. The warmth soon poured from the vents. It felt amazing.
We gathered up the tools and proceeded to the next town where we pulled into a gas station. Dad called his parent’s house and two of my cousins were dispatched to come pick us up. After my dad discussed the situation with some of the people at the restaurant there we were allowed to store the car while we were at the reunion.
After the reunion, we returned to the garage with the appropriate parts and proceeded to install them. I held the flashlight. One of my cousins remained while the others left for parts unknown. He assisted us with the repair. When he was asked why he wasn’t leaving, as he had work the next day, he said, “I can find another job. My uncle and cousin need help getting home and I’m going to help them.” We then returned to Key West with all of our fingers and toes.