Parlor Tricks

Chapter 5

"All right, pop the hood and turn her on," Hank murmured as they arrived back at the shop. Josie complied.

"If you sit in it, you can feel..." but he held up a hand to quiet her.

He leaned in close to hear the melody of the engine. After a few minutes, he leaned in and pulled the rubber cap off the back spark plug before returning his focus to the car's roar.

After a moment, Josie started again, "that sounds terrible; you know what you..."

"You this much fun at a doctor's?"

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips at his reprimand. He continued down the sequence, pacing back to restart the car after the engine died. Then he looped back to the third cap, lifting it again and listening before killing the engine.

"Just a spark plug. Should be able to get to it tomorrow." She was over-satisfied with the answer, as though she expected the diagnosis. "You got someplace to stay?" He added as he wiped down his hands and closed the hood.

"I was planning on just passing through." He felt again like she was leading him to an eventuality.

"Well, you shouldn't be driving this." As he looked over the car, he saw the back arranged in a makeshift bed. "I got a spare room if you need it." Clara would not be happy, but he could sense Josie couldn't afford most of the hotels in town, and the one motel felt too debauched for her. "I just have to finish up the car inside."

She gave an amiable smile and nod before following him back to perch on the stool.

Hank felt her eyes on him as he worked the residue from the car and applied the tire gel. She wasn't just plucking this afternoon; she was now strumming. For a while, she hummed along, but he could sense she felt like a caged songbird. Josie built up to an eventual burst of a song. It was a mournful melody of a boy marrying the wrong girl, while his true love dies alone, to his dismay. It felt intimate, like he shouldn't be listening. When she finished, she continued to strum at random. Hank just continued his work as he mulled explaining the unexpected visitor to his mother.

"You know how to drive stick?" His question broke their established quiet. She gave him a provocative look as warmth redden his face. He tossed her the keys to his truck and pulled himself out of his coveralls. "Follow me."

Josie's skill impressed Hank, he expecting to hear the grinding of gears from behind him. He dropped the Austin-Healey with a maid, who, in turn, handed him an envelope with the payment that he tucked into his pocket before giving Josie the nod to slide over his truck's bench seat. They rode in silence a few blocks to the Carroll mansion. He expected a response when he killed the engine in the garage, but Josie gave no sign of confusion.

"Wait here," his voice was stern, leaving no room for argument.

Clara was in the sitting room. "Oh, Henry, you are home," she cooed.

"Hey, mom," he spoke with a machine gun cadence as he leaned down to give her a peck on her papery cheek. "We have a guest tonight."

"Oh, dear no, I am not prepared for a dinner guest." She clutched at her robe and prodded her silk-covered hair as she spoke.

"It's okay, mom, she's not a dinner guest. She's just passing through with no place to stay. The hotels are booked; it's the Apple Festival." The Apple Festival had been a week ago, but Hank knew she would not remember that.

"Oh, poor girl. I suppose we can give her a room. The Flower Room is always nice." Her words were vacant as her mind drifted to the stature of the house in its prime.

"Yes, I'll get some sheets for it." He gave her a sympathetic smile before returning to the garage.

Josie was out of the truck and inspecting a few photos pinned to the workbench. Hank could see her reviewing one of his father and Peter smiling on either side of him as he clutched a tiny wooden derby car from over her shoulder.