Then Kyle could see that Gomer recognized him. How- ever, his sour expression didn't get any friendlier. Kyle held out his hand.
Gomer ignored him and spoke to Dawn. "I've got the tranny. Any tow calls?”
"No," Dawn said, "but Dan might need you to go to Pueblo for some parts. You can talk to him.”
Gomer shot Kyle a dirty look and headed out the door.
"Well…," Kyle said.
"Oh, don't mind Gomer," Dawn said.
"Is he your… are you two…?" Kyle asked.
Dawn shook her head and said, "No, but he acts like it sometimes.”
Then she smiled that smile at him. "I'm happy to say that I'm a free agent.”
"Okay, then," Kyle said. "I'd better get to work.”
"See you later, Kyle," Dawn said as he left the office.
Dan and Gomer were talking when Kyle came into the shop area.
"Kyle, grab the lift from out back and pull the transmis- sion out of the pickup," Dan said. "Gomer will give you a hand with it.”
Kyle headed across the shop floor to the back door. Out- side, he saw more junked cars and the Volkswagen van that Gomer had mentioned the day before. The van was in bad shape. One look told Kyle it would probably never run again. The back was smashed in pretty well, and it just wouldn't pay to do the extensive bodywork on a car that old.
It was also rusted out along the bottom.
The most remarkable thing about the van was the classic sixties hippie paint job: psychedelic colors swirling around large peace signs painted on the front and the drivers side. Clearly the work had been done by hand, but someone had done a pretty good job. The colors were faded and mixed with a good deal of rust, but Kyle found it easy to imagine how the van must have looked years ago.
What he couldn't imagine was Dan driving it, ever. Aside from the long hair in a ponytail, Dan looked like an average, slightly grouchy, middle-aged guy.
Kyle wanted to get to work, but he figured he had time for a quick check under the hood. It took him some doing to get the hood open, but he saw that the engine was pretty much intact. Then he saw the crack in the engine block. That was it; the engine would never start again. However, that didn't mean that the timing chain wouldn't still be good, but he would have to take the engine apart to be sure.
He would have to remember to talk to Dan about that later. Now he had work to do. The transmission lift was a platform on wheels that had two U-shaped cradles that held the front and the back of a transmission. Because transmissions were roughly cone shaped, one of the cradles was larger than the other.
Grabbing the lift, Kyle wheeled it around to the front of the garage, where Gomer waited by an old pickup that was marked johnny's garage. In the back of the pickup, Kyle could see the transmission. He lowered the tailgate on the truck and raised the lift into place using the crank on the side. Later he would lower it and use the lift to set the transmission into place under the car.
Leaning into the pickup, he said to Gomer, "Would you give me a hand with this?”
Gomer lit a cigarette and looked past Kyle down the road.
"Gomer?" Kyle said.
The older man didn't even look in his direction.
"Would you give me a hand with this, please?" Kyle said. When Gomer continued to ignore him, Kyle raised his voice and said, "Hey Gomer!”
Gomer finally looked his way and said coolly, "I figure that you are such a hot mechanic that you don't need help.”
Then Gomer took a drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke in Kyle's direction. "You got a problem with that?" His voice was even, but Kyle could hear the menace there just the same.
In his football days, Kyle would not have hesitated to meet that challenge, even though Gomer had a good six inches and thirty pounds on him. And he more than likely would have given Gomer a surprise. But that was before he had found out the truth about Max and the others, before he had found Buddha.
Kyle felt blood rushing to his face and forced himself to keep steady.
"What do you say, Mr. Mechanic?" Gomer said, throw- ing his cigarette down and holding his hands out.
Maybe it's time to put Buddha on hold, Kyle thought, clenching his own fists.
And he might have used them, too, but he remembered his friends. The last thing they all needed was the added attention that a fight would bring… even if Kyle won. Still, the urge to knock that smirk off Gomer's face was strong.
Kyle forced a smile of his own and said, "Sorry, maybe another time. I've got work to do.”
Kyle caught Gomer's disappointed expression out of the corner of his eye as he wrestled with the transmission. He slid it toward the tailgate and took a deep breath. Though one person could lift one by himself, moving a transmission was really a two-person job. One person risked dropping it.
In one heave, Kyle lifted it, swung it a few feet over, and then lowered it into the cradles. He was relieved when the clang of metal on metal told him it was in place. He half expected Gomer to make a move on him, and Kyle was relieved when the other man just stood there.
By the time he reached the garage door, he found him- self relaxing and smiling at how quickly Gomer had almost baited him. Buddha would not be pleased, Kyle- thought. And neither would Max.
Before he pushed the rig inside, Kyle couldn't resist giving Gomer a wave and saying, "You have a nice day now.”
Smiling at Gomer's stunned expression, Kyle pushed the transmission into the garage. He used the hydraulic lift to raise the car about two feet, then he got underneath to drop the old transmission. For a few minutes, everything melted away. He was doing something he knew he could do well. And he was the only one of the guys in their group who had found a job.
Plus, there was something Zen about auto repair. His first introduction to Buddhism had come from a copy of a book called Zen and the Art oj Motorcycle Maintenance that he had found at football camp.
At first, he thought it was a joke, but the book had turned about to be serious. He read it cover to cover, and Kyle had never been much of a reader. Then, he had gone to the library to get more books on Buddhism. The next thing he knew, he was trying to walk the Middle Path. It had been almost as big a change for him as learning the truth about the aliens in his town.
Now he found the work relaxing him. His almost- confrontation with Gomer was forgotten, as was the fact that less than forty-eight hours before he had left the only life he had ever known. His worries were replaced by the work his hands did, his mind both concentrating on the task and drifting. Kyle wasn't sure if that was a true Zen state, but it was good enough for him.
Maria was glad to get out of Bell's, even though the morning had not been too bad. She and Liz had quickly settled into their old patterns, and the time had passed quickly. On the other hand, they still had lunch and dinner to get through. In the past, she had sometimes pulled twelve-hour shifts at the Crashdown, but they were tough. She knew she would be dragging her feet for the last couple of hours. Sleeping in the van hadn't helped. She doubted she had gotten more than four hours of actual sleep, and she had woken up sore and aching.
Well, tonight might be better if the guy from the garage let them use the room with the shower. Sleeping on a floor would be better than sleeping sitting up in the van.
Passing through Main Street, Maria was struck by how empty the town looked. Then she caught sight of another missing-person flyer. This one was new… or at least it was one that she hadn't seen before.
The woman in this photo looked older than the other two, maybe in her early thirties. She was outdoors some- where and she was smiling broadly. Maria looked at the picture for a moment before she realized that she was walking the streets alone. Hadn't Bell warned them not to go outside unless they were together? Maria felt a chill run down her back and started walking quickly toward the garage, which was still more than two blocks away.