Blackburn

the Fury's new distributor cap. Blackburn sat down and picked up a ripped copy of Sports Illustrated.

Ed came around the counter. 'Well,' he said. His voice was murderous.

Blackburn unbuttoned his jacket pocket and took out his cash. He handed it to Ed.

Ed counted it. 'There's three hundred here.'

'The extra hundred's a gift,' Blackburn said. 'If both my car and the old lady's are done by six, you can keep it.'

Ed locked the money into a drawer under the counter and went back into the garage. Blackburn watched him open the far bay door and speak to the two young mechanics. A moment later the two were pushing the car they'd been working on out of the garage. One of them drove Mrs. Stopes's car inside. They closed the bay door, opened the Chevy's hood, and got to work.

At twenty minutes after six, the mechanics closed the Chevy's hood, and one of them opened the bay door while the other one backed the car out. Then they both got into the car that had been on the hydraulic lift that morning and drove off. Earl slammed the hood on the Fury a few minutes later and closed the bay door that the young mechanics had left open. He wiped his hands on his coveralls and came into the waiting room with his clipboard.

'Gotcha all set,' Earl said.

Blackburn dropped his magazine beside the two crushed Dr. Pepper cans. 'Glad to hear it,' he said, standing.

Earl went behind the counter and punched buttons on the calculator. He scribbled on the work order. 'And the damage comes to two hundred twenty-seven dollars and eighteen cents,' he said.

Blackburn went to the counter. 'What happened to the hundred and seventy-six you quoted this afternoon?'

'Well, things got more complicated than we expected,' Earl said. 'And we did flush your radiator.'

'I told you not to do that.'

'Yes sir, but our boy misread the work order, and the work did get done. It wouldn't be fair if we didn't charge for work that got done.'

'So why'd you have me initial the one seventy-six?'

'That figure was an estimate. Your initials just authorized us to start working.'

'Then what was my signature for?'

'That was to authorize us to look at the car in the first place. We have to be careful.'

Blackburn laughed. These guys were hilarious. They should be dressed up in polka dots and milk-white makeup, tumbling out of a car in a center ring somewhere. Their belief in gullibility was so absolute, so crystalline, that it would be childlike if it had to do with, say, the existence of the Easter Bunny rather than with ripping off old ladies.

'What's so funny?' Earl asked. He sounded pissed.

Even the question was hilarious. Blackburn laughed so hard that his stomach hurt. He pounded his fists on the counter. His eyes blurred. Earl was a ruddy blob. Blackburn howled.

He heard the door to the garage open, and another blob, bigger and darker, joined Earl behind the counter.

'What's so funny?' Ed asked. He sounded pissed too.

Blackburn dropped to his knees and leaned his head against the counter. His body shook. He had never laughed like this before. It was as miraculous as an orgasm.

'I said, what's so funny?'

Blackburn looked up and saw two smears that he knew were Ed and Earl's heads. They were looking over the counter at him. He allowed himself one last burst of laughter, then wiped his face on his jacket sleeve. 'I'm not going to pay you,' he said.

Ed and Earl glanced at each other. Then they glared down at Blackburn.

'You sure as hell are,' Ed said.

'Bet me,' Blackburn said, and then reached up and whacked their heads together.

Ed and Earl bellowed, and Blackburn jumped up and ran into the garage. He grabbed the metal box hanging from the ceiling and punched the green button marked UP. The Fury began to rise beside him. Ed came into the garage then, shoving the glass door so hard that it shattered against the wall. Earl came in behind Ed, cursing.

Blackburn released the UP button, and the hydraulic lift stopped. He ran around the Fury, which had risen about three feet, and put his thumbs in his ears. He waggled his fingers and stuck out his tongue at Ed and Earl.

Ed took a crescent wrench from a tool cabinet. He came stomping around the Fury holding the wrench like a club. 'You don't know who you're fucking with,' he said.

'Sure I do,' Blackburn said. 'It says 'Ed' right on your chest.' He backed away, keeping ten feet between him and Ed, until he bumped against the parts rack along the far wall. The rack wobbled, and packaged spark plugs rained down on Blackburn's head. Blackburn looked to his left and right and saw that the rack's shelves sagged with mufflers, starters, alternators, brake shoes, bearings, and assorted other parts. The rack was bolted to the wall, but some of the brackets meant to hold it there had torn.

Blackburn spread his arms wide and grasped two of the rack's vertical supports. Earl had stayed on the far side of the Fury, blocking the way back into the waiting room, but Ed was now almost close enough to strike. The wrench was rising.

'You don't know who you're fucking with, either,' Blackburn said. 'Ever hear of Samson?' He strained forward, and the parts rack shrieked. A starter, a muffler, a box of clamps, and several hoses hit the floor. Then more spark plugs rained down, mixed with distributor caps, plug wires, and rolls of electrical tape.

'Son of a bitch!' Ed yelled, and lunged for Blackburn.

Blackburn let go of the rack, ducked Ed's wrench, and sprinted for the Fury. He dove under the car, coming to a stop in the trough below the hydraulic lift's right brace. He saw his warped reflection in the lift's silver post.

He heard crashes and curses, and turned his head to see what had happened. The parts rack had not fallen, but it had tilted forward enough that most of the parts had slid off their shelves. Ed was down on one knee. Something had conked him, and his scalp was bleeding. When the parts stopped falling, he stood up and looked around until he saw Blackburn. Then he started for the Fury. He looked sluggish and dizzy, but he still held the wrench.

Blackburn scrambled past the silver post as Ed crawled underneath the car after him, and Ed's wrench only glanced off the sole of his shoe. But as Blackburn came out from under the left side of the Fury, Earl yelled and lumbered toward him. So Blackburn rolled onto his back and kicked Earl in the crotch. As Earl doubled over, Blackburn got to his feet and jabbed his thumb into Earl's throat. Earl dropped to his knees, and Blackburn grabbed the dangling control box again. He pressed the red button marked DOWN.

Ed had crawled halfway out from under the Fury when the hydraulic lift's left brace came down across his back. He gurgled, looking angrier than ever, and then spat a red glob at Blackburn. It missed. The hydraulic lift whined and settled.

Blackburn released the button. Earl was on his hands and knees against the broken waiting-room door, coughing. There was a puddle of drool on the floor under his mouth.

'You sound underinflated,' Blackburn said. 'Keep that up and you'll be running on cord.' He grasped the collar of Earl's coveralls and began dragging him to the rear of the garage. As they passed Ed, Earl grunted and grabbed Blackburn around the knees, bringing him to a halt. Blackburn became irritated.