Jose awoke promptly at 5:30am, as was his norm, threw on his sweats and PT belt, and went for his morning run. He stopped a few times to talk with some of his neighbors, and then at a Vietnamese bakery that belonged to an old couple who had been in the NML since before it had been named that. After two hours he made it home, ate breakfast, and walked across the back lot to his shop.
The first order of the day was the thugs, no, Rob and Greg’s, he corrected himself, van. He gave the old thing a once over, then placed his hands on the engine. Soon a purple glow began to emanate from the compartment, and after a few minutes ceased. He checked the oil, transmission fluid, and coolant, then closed the hood. Next up were the tires, a quick glow later and they were almost as good as new; as opposed to the breaks, which were as good as new.
Finally, he crawled under the van to look at the frame. It was bent and had rusty speed holes, as did the drive shaft and exhaust. He extricated himself, grabbed 23.5 pounds of scrap steel from behind the shop, and returned to the van. Laying the scrap under the vehicle, he laid his hands on the individual parts, and began to work. Less than five minutes later, everything was near perfect.
Only half an hour. I seem to be getting better and better. Last year this would have taken over an hour. He thought.
Last, he lifted the rear bumper into place and held it there as the purple light did its thing. “That’s done. Now onward to coffee!”
-
Rob and Greg took the city bus into the NML, exiting at the stop across from the mechanic’s shop. As they got off, the “Open” sign in the shops window sprung to life. They dodged traffic as the crossed the street.
“Who opens shop at 9am in this place?” Rob wondered aloud.
“Obviously this guy.” Greg responded, coffee in one hand, lox bagel in the other.
As they crossed the shops lot, the overhead door opened, and the van rolled out. The thing didn’t look any different, the sound…
Greg’s eyes widened as the van pulled out, “Do you hear that? Nothing! That thing hasn’t sounded this good ever!”
Jose stepped out of the van, “You guys like what you hear? It wasn’t as bad as I had feared. A couple new valves, plugs, and wires, new oil and other fluids. I even fixed the breaks and threw on some better rubber.”
Greg and Rob just stared at the man.
“Can’t say I’ve never had customers speechless before.” Jose smiled at the men. “And since you paid in advance, she’s all yours. Oh, and that funny vibration in the dash? I fixed that too.”
-
Jose dragged the next customers car into the shop. It needed work. Lots of work. If the couple who had brought it in last week hadn’t been in desperate need, he would have just bought the junker from them to use as parts, but they needed a vehicle, so he had charged them less than half the going rate. 20 minutes of purple light later, it was running like a car ten years younger than it was; he couldn’t afford to go overboard. Again. The engine was good again, as were all the usual wear spots, aside from cosmetics. He sent the couple a text to come and pick it up tomorrow afternoon, when it would be “done”.
The next several hours were spent restoring broken parts to factory new condition, lunch, and the ever-needed coffee. Last job of the day, he ordered junker cars from “Junccars.net” (the best site on the web for parts cars) for delivery later in the week. He figured he would list the “New Old Stock” parts online tomorrow. He clicked off the Open sign, and waited for the evening customers to show up.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
-
Monkey in the Middle hopped off the bus across the street from The Mechanic’s shop, and walked in the back door. “Hey M, got a thing I need fixed.”
The Mechanic looked up from his bench in the back of the shop. “Hey Mim. What you got this time?”
“Don’t really know. I got it off Villinay.Net, some kinda strength booster.” Mim replied. “It was slightly damaged from being dropped by Captain Handsome when 808 knocked him out of the sky.”
“I remember that fight!” Jose said, a smile crossing his face. “I hate that guy.”
“Most do.” Mim replied. “Anyway, if you could do your thing?”
“You remember the price?”
“10K. Direct transfer. No refunds if it doesn’t do what I think it should do.” Mim replied with a sigh.
“Good! You get the transfer started; I’ll get to work.”
Mim walked out of the shop, and began transferring the money, and Jose started the fixing. These things were always a bit tricky, they were usually one-off items that weren’t always sure what they were, or what they were supposed to do, so he took his time. Half an hour later, the device had turned into a pair of arm bracers that hummed with power.
He pinged Mim, and let him back into the shop. “They seem to be done. When you test them, start on the – “
“Lowest setting and get used to them before using them in a caper.” Mim finished.
“Yup!” Jose grinned. “Now I think you should skedaddle, I have another appointment soon.”
Mim nodded, and slunk out of the area.
-
Super Soda Pop, or SSP as the news was calling, he now, dropped from the sky onto the unsuspecting warehouse. At almost roof level, she stopped and surveyed the area. Radio and tv antenna. Junk cars. Three security cameras. Nothing out of the ordinary. But she still had an uncomfortable feeling in her gut as she dropped to the ground next to the back door of the shop.
A back door that opened before she could reach for the handle. A deep voice from inside announced “Come in Ms. Pop. I’ve been expecting you.”
-
‘Pop sat in a comfortable chair across the desk from The Mechanic. He wore his normal outfit, a suit of powered armor built from automotive scraps. Her eyes wandered over the armor, looking for some sort of weakness.
“How may I help you Ms. Pop?” The Mechanic asked.
“I’m looking for Monkey in the Middle.” ‘Pop said, taking a slow look around the office. “I heard from sources that he was here.”
“I will neither confirm nor deny the presence of a customer in my shop.” The Mechanic replied.
“I figured as much.” ‘Pop said. “If you are unwilling to answer my questions here, would you like to come downtown and answer them in the cells?”
“You know my lawyer will disrupt that before you first words are out of your mouth.” The Mechanic replied.
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse. I won’t leave until you give me something.” ‘Pop shot back, knowing that the lawyer from DC&H would be a major thorn if she took him to detention for questioning.
“How about I clean all your equipment for free?” The Mechanic asked.
“…” She glared at him through hooded eyes. “You know that’s NOT how this works.”
“Of course I do.” The Mechanic chuckled from beneath his mask. “But seeing you flustered is so much fun, Ms. Pop.”
“What did Monkey want?” ‘Pop raised her voice.
“You will have to be more specific, Ms. Pop. There are several villains, and a hero with some variation of that name.”
“Look, Jose, you are being frustrating! There’s no point to it.” ‘Pop raised her voice some more.
Jose turned off the voice modulator in his helmet, “All jokes and snide comments aside, I can’t break trust with my customers. You know that. Should I blab to someone what your chest size is? I know what it is from the last time I had to fix your breastplate.”
‘Pop exhaled dramatically, and slouched in her chair. “I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve been chasing the brat around town for most of the week, and mom wants me there for Sunday brunch, and I can’t show up tired. Again.”
Jose took off his helmet, and looked the teen in the eyes, “I get that. I just can’t tell you anything, my lawyer would skin me alive.”
“How did you get a dedicated lawyer from DC&H, anyway?” ‘Pop asked. “That kind of treatment is reserved for the best of the best.”
“Oh, easy. I fixed Mr. Howe’s car for him.”
“The Bently? He has a dedicated guy for that.” ‘Pop said. “Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”
“Not that one. The 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Z06.” Jose said, smiling.
“Where…how… WTF MAN!” ‘Pop shot into the air. “How did you get the parts?!?”
“I have my ways.” Jose winked at her. “And I am “The Mechanic”, you know.”
With that, Super Soda Pop stormed out of the shop, slamming the door so hard that it fell off. Jose sighed, “If she had punched me, I would have spilled my guts! I’m glad she’s a car freak.” He fixed the door, and tottered off to bed.
