Chapter 3
Sid watched Grace and Chiefy saunter down the sidewalk together. Chiefy”s tail wagged and she glanced up at Grace often. They had a bond for sure.
Grace was a pretty woman. A few soft lines around her gorgeous blue eyes were sexy. Her long dark hair framed her face nicely.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. He”d promised himself after his divorce, that he wouldn”t bring another person into his sphere who had to deal with this bullshit PTSD that seemed to creep up on him without notice. He was lucky, he”d never been violent during an attack, but hearing the horror stories of those who had, kept him clear of entanglements.
”You okay, son?” Cooper”s gravelly voice sounded from a few steps away.
Sid turned to look at the old man, whose deep worry lines seemed more prevalent now. ”Yeah. I”m fine. Thank you.”
Cooper nodded but stared for a few moments longer and Sid”s stomach twisted. ”I”m not violent. My body just shakes, and I seem to freeze up.”
Cooper shook his head. ”I”m not worried you”re violent. I”m worried you aren”t taking care of yourself. You need to pack a lunch to come here and work, and you”ll need to bring several bottles of water to stay hydrated. Especially working out here in the sun.”
”Yes, sir. I”ll do that.”
”I believe I told you, Coop or Cooper. You don”t need to call me sir.”
”Yes, sir...Okay, Coop.”
”That”s more like it.”
Without another word Coop shuffled into the garage. Sid watched him for a few minutes then chuckled. Coop”s walk was much less appealing than Grace”s. He could watch Grace walk away all day. He”d be mindful not to tell her that. If he saw her again, that is.
He picked up his wrench and continued to remove the parts he could get off easily. He then moved into the garage and asked Coop, ”You have something I can put small parts and nuts and bolts in, so I don”t lose them? I also need something I can soak parts in.”
Coop picked his cap off his head, scratched his scalp, then reset his cap. ”I have one of those little tin pans over in that corner...” He pointed across the garage. ”And there”s a parts soaker below it.”
Sid ambled in the direction of both things and dug around in the mess. Maybe once he finished with the motorcycle, he”d come in here and clean and organize. This place needed some good old elbow grease and military organization.
Finding the tin pan, he blew dust out of it and bent to find the parts soaker. A bunch of miscellaneous junk had been stacked on top of it, but he found it.
Pulling the parts soaker out, he saw it would need a cleaning before he”d soak anything in it. If this is how it would be, he”d be here all month trying to get that old Knucklehead running.
He began gathering supplies to clean the parts soaker and set to work. Two hours later he”d finished cleaning the soaker, filled it with oil to give these old parts a good oil bath, and started carting parts he”d removed into the garage for their bath.
Coop looked at his watch. ”So, I”m about ready to head home.”
Sid glanced at his watch. ”It”s only three o”clock.”
”Yeah. I need a nap.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some keys. ”Lock up when you leave.”
”You trust me to be here alone?”
Cooper laughed. ”What are you going to steal? It would take you four hours to find anything worth taking. My tools are good but they”re old. I don”t keep money here. I don”t have vending machines. I have someone else’s vehicle that still doesn”t work and a few miscellaneous parts and pieces. If that”s your big take, you can have it.”
Coop tossed the keys into the air and Sid caught them in his right hand. Coop stared at him for a few moments, then nodded. ”See you tomorrow, Sid.”
”See you tomorrow, Coop.”
The old man shuffled out to an old pickup truck. It took him some time to finally get himself inside then he waved and started the old truck up. It sounded great. It was a sleeper for sure. Didn”t look like much, but it ran like a top. Mechanics did shit like that.
He chuckled and finished adding parts to the oil bath. He spent some time sweeping the floor of the garage. He put some tools away, tossed old rags into the garbage, and hung up larger tools that belonged on the wall. He didn”t do everything he wanted, but it felt good.
He took a deep breath and looked around the little garage. It felt real good. He felt good.
Sid walked into the little front reception area and locked the door. He pulled the chain on the open sign to turn it off, then sauntered into the garage area. He closed the two overhead doors, then stepped out of the service door between the garage doors and the reception area. Pulling the keys from his pocket, he locked the door. As he walked away from the Garage, he stopped on the sidewalk and looked at it once more. A grin spread on his face, and he found a new stride in his step as he moved down Main Street toward his little bungalow. Despite the middle part of the day when he had his PTSD attack, he managed it, with help, and continued on with his day. He”d never done that before. In the past, he”d have gone home and crawled in bed for the rest of the day. Most of the time anyway. They drained him.
Maybe this little town had healing powers after all. That”s what Sarge had said about it.