Liam
Being the new guy in a small town sucks. Everyone knows everyone and if you don’t, you better work your ass off to get to know them. I chose to move to Isle of Palms, a small beach town in South Carolina, two months ago. Before that, I spent the last twenty-eight years of my life living in California, the complete opposite side of the world compared to where I am now. Everyone assumes when I say I’m from California that I mean the beach, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
When I say California, I mean Northern California, around Redding. There are woods and mountains, and the perfect day would be hiking through said forestry. Even if it’s raining, when it stops, the sun peeks through and illuminates all the little water droplets. Everything sparkles in its own special way and makes me understand, in the moment, the fascination with vampires.
Now, I’m running my shop, on the beach, and enjoying the weather.
When I uprooted everything, I knew it would have to be well worth it. I rented a shop space that has an apartment above it, so I can kill two birds with one stone. I have a place to stay and the ability to run my own shop, ’s Auto Solutions . This place is the only auto body shop in town, so it keeps me busy and the bills paid. Rent isn’t cheap around here, but the majority of people are either rich or tourists, both of which help the business.
The rich drive their nice-ass vehicles around and don’t want to fuck up their pretty fingernails, so the smallest problem is rushed to me. Windshield wipers need to be replaced? Bring it to me. Need more fluid? Once again, just bring it down.
The tourists keep the buggy rental shops busy, so the shops bring their equipment to me to tune up and make sure it’s in pristine condition for whoever comes next. If something breaks, they know I’ll have it fixed as soon as physically possible because I don’t want to have it any longer than they want me to have it. This gives me very little time to do anything other than sleep, work, grab a quick bite to eat, and work out.
I wasn’t born with these muscles and although being a mechanic has kept me in pretty good shape, I can’t get my cardio in unless I make time for it. I enjoy running, despite most people’s feelings toward it. It’s just misunderstood. I go on the same path every time, and it’s good for the soul. We all need some relief, and I chose cardio to be mine. No matter the weather, I go for a run. I might have to do it at insane hours, to beat the heat, but it’ll get done. I take a moment and watch the tide too. The perk to working in a beach town, I guess, since I get the view for free.
“How’s it going, ?” I hear from my shutter doors.
I slide out from underneath the Kia I’m working on and see Cameron, my only friend who lives around here, standing there. It’s fairly early in the morning, which must mean he has a new project.
“Hey, man, it’s pretty good. How’s it going with you?” I walk up to him, wiping my hands on the rag I keep in my back pocket to get all the grease off so I can offer a handshake but quickly realize it’s pointless. After eight years of being a mechanic, I’m pretty sure my hands have permanent black splotches from the oil and grease I use. I tuck my rag back and cross my hands over my chest.
This guy has become a great friend, but his hands are just as pristine as the day he was born. He’s some fancy-schmancy lawyer and likes to buy old cars and have other people fix them up for him. We met back in California when we were in elementary school and somehow always stayed in contact through the years. He moved during middle school, but we never lost touch.
“Things are good,” he replies. “I got a new one for you to look at if you’re up to the challenge.”“ Phst. ” I scoff. “When am I not? Whatcha got for me?”
“I’ll show you, but you’re gonna be a jealous man.”We walk out and loaded up on the flatbed is a ’76 Chevy Stepside. I start salivating and quickly pick my jaw up from the floor.
“Told ya so,” Cameron says.
This truck is exactly what I’ve been wanting, and he knows it. “Where the fuck did you find this thing?” I say, walking around, making sure I check every angle from a mechanic’s viewpoint, but also a very jealous friend’s point of view.
“There was an auction in North Carolina. It popped up, and I had to have it. Couldn’t imagine a better mechanic to work on it either.”Ya, well, fuck me. I obviously can’t turn this down because Cameron will throw whatever money he has at a project without a care in the world, which means a massive payday for me.
“Whatcha looking for?” I jump up on the flatbed and start looking around, tuning out everything else. There’s no engine, rust all over, and clearly needs a lot of work. This thing is a piece of shit and might be more work than is really worth it, but I’ll never say no to a challenge.
He answers my question while I zone out and think about all the possibilities for this truck in my head.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I say confidently. I haven’t listened to a word he’s said. I’ll be sure to ask questions later when I’m not so distracted. I’m really not going to have any free time. Taking on a project, plus all my other business, is going to be time-consuming.
My muscles already knot up as I drop the rust bucket off into an empty bay and wave Cameron goodbye. I have shit to do today, but first thing tomorrow, I’m running until I can’t remember my fucking name.