Unidentified

Chapter Six

TRISTAN

I look at the clock on the wall and notice it's only 3:37 pm. My shift is only finished at five and I have already finished all my work for today. I hear Grant coming out of his office and turn to him. "Uhm, I think I'm done," I tell him. "Is there something else I can do? My shift is not over yet."

"Well, actually there is," he says. "Okay, what do you need me to do?" I ask him. "It's not really for a customer, but for me," he tells me, walking towards the other side of the garage. He stops in front of a vehicle with a large, dusty cloth over it. I already noticed it was here since this morning, but I haven't asked Grant about it. I must say that I am quite curious to know what kind of vehicle is underneath it. 

He removes the cloth and a large, light blue pick-up truck is shown. The metal of the vehicle is a bit rusty and there are a few dents in it, but it's certainly repairable. 

"Is that yours?" I ask him and he nods. "I haven't been using it since 1998 and as you see, it needs to be repaired. I wanted to work on it and I need a pair of extra hands. So what do you say?" he asks me. I look at the truck, thinking about it. That truck is really worth the try. I would certainly want to drive in that one day. 

"Yeah, why not?" I say, shrugging my shoulders. "Okay, let's get to work then," he enthusiastically says, giving me a smile. I nod, before taking the toolkit with me towards the truck. We start working on it, first checking if everything is okay with the engine. 

"Can you pass me the spanner wrench?" he asks me. I look for the tool into the box, before handing it to him. "Thanks," he mumbles, his eyes concentrated on the engine. It stays silent for a moment, the only thing hearable being the crunches of the bolts he's loosening.

"You never really talk about your friends, well you never really talk at all," he chuckles and I can't help but do the same. It's funny how even he notices that I'm a closed book. "But since we're here anyway, let's talk."

"About what?" I ask him, searching for new bolts to replace the old ones.   "About your friends... Girlfriends?" he says and I slightly chuckle. "Yeah, that's not really an applying subject to talk about," I mumble. "Why not?" he asks me. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" 

"Uhm, no," I reply, slightly chuckling. "Oh, well I thought you had, sorry," he says and I shrug. "It's just not one of my priorities right now," I reply, handing him the new bolts. He quickly thanks me, before handing me the old ones. I put them away, before leaning against the table with the toolkit on it. "Then what are your current priorities?" he asks. I have to think of that for a minute. What are my priorities? I have a job, I don't have trouble to pay the rent, nor other bills and I always have food in my fridge. I guess my priorities aren't about material things or my about relationships with people. My most important priority is to find out where I come from... To be sure where I am going. I just simply need to know who I am. 

I don't even believe that I am about to say this, but I just feel the need to say it. Just once. 

"I guess mine is finding some answers," I reply, so softly it's barely a whisper. "Answers about what?" he asks, now looking up at me. O'm not sure if I should talk about this with him. It's kind of a subject I like, even love to avoid. He knows my background story, but just not all of it. 

"Just some things about my family," I superficially answer. Saying the word 'family' already sounds wrong coming out of my mouth. Instead of giving me that warm feeling, that feeling of safety. It gives me that painful, yet rightful feeling of betrayal. "But it's kind of a personal thing," I add, not wanting to talk more about this. It's been enough opening up for today.