Dying Fire

Chapter 1 ~ Routine

Mike stared over the steeringwheel with a dull expression on his face. The neighborhood was going about it's owm business like it should; kids playing outside, parents watering the flowers. It was a picture postcard of America.

At the very end of the block though rested a small house. It was well kept, lawn mowed,and a healthy dog trotting around the yard. The Otterhound recognized his car immediately.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Mike stepped out greeting the dog with a happy pat. "Hey Mater." Slobber was all he got in return. "Where's Cat at, huh?" Mike received one lick right after another until the big beast was back on all fours and leading him into the garage.

There, he found his childhood friend doing what she did best. The woman was neck deep beneath her 1970 black Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454. The white racing stripes were as bright as ever.

Cat was always a grease monkey, she got a lot of shit for it in school. But because of it, the girl learned to hold her own. That's how they became friends long ago. When he was a sophomore in highschool, the girl was barely hitting middle school. He saw her at a bus stop, hands dirty and hair wild just like she was now. But what caught his attention was what she was doing. Some kid was getting picked on, and she had the nerve to stand up for him. Three punches and two boys later, the girl was still holding her ground eyeing up anyone else who tried to confront her.

Quickly she was out numbered,  so mime swept in with his car offering her for a ride. Ever since then, he picked her up for school everyday and took her home after.

"You know, normally people rest up for a long day at work." He cleared his throat while crossing his arms.

Cat didn't bother wheeling herself out from under her pride and joy; not for Mike at least. "Ain't got anyone to impress, what's it to you old man?"

"Did we get sassier over night Ms. Rhodes?"

Her deep chuckle echoed through the exhaust pipe of the car. Then, wheeling herself out and into the open, her dirt covered grin smiled towards him. "Nah. Only started once I heard that piece of shit turning the corner." Cat motioned towards his truck.

Rolling his eyes, Mike nodded and kicked himself up and away from her room box. Then, he was extending his hand out to her helping her up. Not of course, without the involvement of Mater.

The dog was her best friend. Mike got him for her as a high school graduation present. Most of the time, the two were inoperable. Except for when it was a time like this. "Mr. Jimmy called-" she knew right where this was going. "He's short a crewhand down in the engine room. Could use you for the weekend if you're up to it. Can you call in sick at the shop?"

Puffing her hair from her forehead, the woman rolled her eyes. "Consider it done. Let me grab my bag."

Working on the oil rig was big bucks. Most of the time, she floated between that and any garage that needed help. She was known around town for her knowledge on engines. Mike was sure half the time thought that it had something to do with her looks as well.

She was a good looking girl, even Cat knew it too. With long blonde hair, a skinny frame, and big blue eyes- she caught herself being stared at every now and again. That's why she liked the job she had. Under all the grease,  dirt, and baggy uniforms- she just got to be another worker. Nobody had to know what she was hiding underneath.

Mike waited outside with Mater as she disappeared to grab her bag. Then, once back out, she had the key in her hand and was spinning the metal around her finger. "Alright, let's go drop off Mater."

The neighbor and his kids were always willing to take him in. They did a good job at it too. With such small children, she was a little nervous at how he would act. In the end though, apparently Mater was like a saint.