Riding with the Beast (an MC Fairy Tale)

10 - Beast

Beast

The mechanic didn’t open on time. Suppose that shouldn’t have been surprising. He probably didn’t get much business in a small town like this. After ten o’clock, his car finally rolled into the lot.

It wasn’t in very good shape, which was never a good sign. The car door groaned as it was opened, and the little man inside groaned even louder as he stepped out. He wiped the sweat off his round head with the back of his hand and shut the door before waddling to the front of the shop.

I crushed what was left of my cigarette on the ashtray on top of the trashcan. Only had three left. I made a note to stop by the Flash-n-Dash on the way out of town. By then, the guy was muttering a curse while he kept trying to stab his keys in the lock. Guess he’d had fun last night.

Since he still hadn’t noticed me, I decided to make my presence known. “Need help?”

“What’s that?” he yelled, looking up with a squint.

Now, people react to seeing my face for the first time in a lot of different ways. Usually they cover their children’s faces, search for the nearest weapon and, when they can’t find one, glance away like I’ll be pissed at ‘em for just lookin’.

The mechanic didn’t act like that. The toothpick fell from his mouth. It hit the greasy wife beater stretched over his potbelly before landing between his scandals. His keys weren’t far behind. “Holy shit! What the fuck happened to your face?!?”

I grinned. Couldn’t help it. It had been a while since someone had been so blunt.

Unfortunately, people tend to get even more freaked out when I’m having a good time. The man’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit. I mean, fuck. I mean, it’s just that…fuck…”

“It’s alright.” I picked his keys up and opened the door. “I’m looking for somethin’ I think you got.”

The man was still gaping.

I held the door open for him. “For my car,” I continued.

“Oh, right. Right. Well, come on in. We got tons of stuff for cars.” He started laughing nervously.

I didn’t, because I failed to see what was so funny.

The guy blew out slowly. “Okay. So, who’s the lucky lady?”

I nodded to the side. “She’s the only other car in the lot.”

The guy snapped his chubby fingers. “Oh, was wondering who that was. Didn’t recognize it, but sometimes Arty brings shit over from the junkyard he thinks I can—wait, It’s not like I’m calling your car shit or anything—”

I shrugged. “Why not? It’s a piece of shit.”

He cracked a smile. “Yeah, well, follow me back and I’ll get settled and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

The mechanic’s name was Timmy. He didn’t seem to believe in cabinets or paperclips. There were a couple stacks of papers on his desk about as tall as he was, and many more scattered on the floor. The lettering was faded on just about all of ‘em, but they all had fresh muddy footprints and coffee stains. The shuffled the piles on his desk. “I can’t keep anything straight without my morning coffee.”

I was surprised he could keep anything straight with or without coffee. Since we hadn’t discussed pricing yet, I decided to keep that to myself—along with the fact that it was no longer morning.

“Can’t keep it straight with so much shit goin’ on, either,” he continued.

This time, I didn’t keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, small town gossip can keep you alive. “Place seems pretty quiet to me.”