Behind Those Eyes

The Mechanic

Belinda Lancaster felt out of place in the dirty garage, delicately perched on a small wooden stool and trying her best to ignore the dust and smell of grease.

Under any normal circumstances a person like her would never be so much as within a ten kilometer radius of a place so filthy unless it was a time of dire need.

Unfortunately, this was a time of dire need.

The Mechanic was leaning over Lancaster sleek blue ferrari's engine, one of her hands resting on the raised bonnet and the other skimming over the maze of matallic mysteries that Lancaster never bothered to discover about the thing she drove every day.

After all, it wasn't her job to do that.

No, her place was in law, she couldn't stand to get her hands dirty she eyed the Mechanic distastefully, she sometimes marvelled who in their right mind would want to smear themselves with sin-black oil and drench themselves in hot sweat day after day while staring at bits of broken junk.

And a woman, nonetheless.

What kind of terrible parents would allow their perfectly fine daughter, quite possibly with much potential, to throw away a future in law or politics and instead let her spend the rest of her life in a dirty garage, doing a man's job?

She looked terrible, her clothes were old worn, and stained from years of working on engines, her hair was tangled and damp with sweat, messily tied back in a hasty made ponytail and her bare arms were splattered with dark, strong-smelling oil.

Disgraceful.

The Mechanic paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she honed in on the source of the car's engine failure, she reached down into the depths of the mechanic maze and drew out a small object, "I think I found the problem here." she announced, turning and making her way toward Lancaster, who found herself instinctively drawing back to avoid the sweaty young woman.

Her eyes focused on the object in the Mechanic's hand. At first, she thought it was just another bit of the maze before she recognised it.

It was a plasic screwdriver. A bit mangled, but it looked almost exactly like the one her daughter, Maisy had and played with, despite her mother's protests to play with something more ladylike.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry." Lancaster blustered quickly, reaching out to take it before thinking the better of it, knowing that it wasn't worth getting her hands covered in grease for, "That's my daughter's, I'll have a talk with her when I get home."

"Huh." the Mechanic grunted, staring hard at the piece in her hand. Lancaster hated it when girls grunt. Why sound like an idiotic caveman?

"So your daughter's into mechanics?"

The question took Lancaster by surprise, "No, no she's not at all." she laughed, "No, Maisy was just playing."

The Mechanic nodded as if she thought this was a perfectly reasonable answer, "So do your kids usually play around with your nice car's engine?" she asked as she tossed the plastic screwdriver onto her clutted workbench and went back to the car her back to her.

Lancaster felt her face burn for some reason, "No, not at all." she told the Mechanic, "This was just the first and only time. As I was saying, I'll speak to her when I get home. This won't happen again, I promise."

The Mechanic shrugged, "I'm not angry or anything." she said, her voice somewhat muffled by the fact that she wasn't facing the person she was talking to.

How rude.

"Still, I'll make sure that it will never happen again." Lancaster told her firmly, "Such professions aren't right for young ladies such as herself. Really, I'm surprised that they even let women do such filthy-" she broke off when she remembered who she was talking to.

The Mechanic just laughed, "You know," she said, "If such professions, as you put it, aren't right for young ladies, who would be fixing up your car right now?"

"A perfectly capable man." Lancaster told her, "After all, this is men's work."

"So," the Mechanic said, "you're alright with boys doing the dirty work, but girls can't? What it it that makes men be under women?"

"I'm not saying that." Lancaster said, irritation beginning to build inside her, this woman was probably uneducated, too, "I'm saying that there are jobs for men and jobs for women?"

"Huh." the Mechanic grunted. Again. "Have you ever seen the movie Daddy Day Care?"

Lancaster sighed, this conversation was going nowhere, "I just feel that my daughter should work in better conditions than this," she gestured to the garage around her, though the knew the Mechanic couldn't see her, "she can get a better job, one that pays her a suitable amount of money."

"I get payed plently." the Mechanic said simply, "Again, why do you think that men should have jobs that, as you said, 'pay less'?"

The older woman opened her mouth to retort, but settled with saying as calmly as possible, "I want my daughter to get a respectable job that she enjoys and will carry on with for the rest of her life."

"I'm respected, I fix your car when you come crawling for me for help." the Mechanic's back told her as she tinkered with the engine, "I also enjoy my job, it's interesting and pretty fun. And I want to carry on with it for the rest of my life, or at least until I retire."

"Ues, but-" Lancaster hesitated, struggling to find a way to counter the Mechanic's words.

The Mechanic turned to face her, finally looking at her while addressing her.

At last.

"I get what you want to do." she said, "You want your daughter to live life to it's fullest, have a good future all planned out for her and stuff. And don't get me wrong, it's great that you care fo her like that. But while you plan out her entire life, you're also limiting and controlling her."

"I'm not-" Lancaster began.

"No, you are." the Mechanic interrupted, "And I know it might look like you're not, but you are. Kids need to be allowed to make choices and experiment, try new things if you know what I mean? Sometimes, you've got to let them grow up on their own and find their own way. Sure, you can guide them, but controlling them is bad. If you control them all through their childhood and don't let them think for themselves as kids, they'll find it hard to do it as an adult."

There was a silence as Lancaster stared at her, turning what the Mechanic had just said over in her head.

"Did you just make that up on the spot?" she finally questioned.

The Mechanic grinned, "Yeah, it was pretty inspiring, eh? I'm not just a mechanic, I write in my spare time, too."

"Do you?" Lancaster asked, "Would it be possible for a lawyer to be a mechanic at the same time?"

A smirk flittered across the Mechanic's face, "Oh, so now your daughter is interested in this kind of stuff?" she teased, pulling the hood of the car down, "I'll keep it for a few more days to make sure no real damage has been caused."

Lancaster rose to her feet, brushing the dust that had gathered on her buisness skirt, "Alright, I'll be back on Thursday." she told her, turning and briskly striding out of the garage.

Behind her, she could hear the Mechanic call, "Hey, and bring your daughter while you're at it!"