by Daya Daniels
Nevada
ALL GOOD CARS SHOULD go to heaven.
But, unfortunately, this baby isn’t one of them.
A breathy sigh leaves me when I eyeball the rusty engine and all the duct tape stuck to it along with the red pen strokes which are all over it for a second time. They could be hieroglyphics for how old this car is! Or scribble which possibly belonged to the fiftieth owner of this car. Who knows! Upon closer look…
The radiator is shot.
The transmission is on its way out the building.
And the battery is done.
This car needs to be gutted.
The cost for that is astronomical, so honestly, it makes more sense for Vashti to sell it for parts and invest in something new. I’m not sure how that message will go over considering all the bad luck she seems to be having, especially today.
“Under Your Spell” by Desire floats around in this large space that reeks of motor oil, gasoline and primer.
Home. Sweet. Home.
I sniff the air like a bloodhound and revel in two out of the three scents.
Wiping the sweat from my face, I emerge from beneath the hood of the car and find Vashti peering at the photographs on the wall. Most of them are of me as a kid, in Go-karts, sitting on parked motorcycles, racing wheelbarrows. She cranes her neck to stare up at the red 1964 Volkswagen Beetle up on the hydraulic lift and then she’s peeking into the yellow Hummer H2 in the next spot.
All work for today that I should be spending my time on. Instead, I’m tinkering with Vashti’s car which there isn’t a hope in hell for.
She runs her fingers over a Goodyear tire on the floor that’s almost bigger than her.
I follow her eyeline when her big browns land on the single bed over in the corner. Next to it is a standing fan which rotates from side to side, a black and white TV, a pair of boots, a stack of neatly folded clothes and a leather jacket which once belonged to Madre.
Vashti points across the room. “Is that your bed over there?”
Laughing, I shut the hood and smile. “Yes, it is indeed. This is my home. And when I say that, I literally mean this-is-my home.”
“Oh.” She folds her arms across her chest. “This place is really cool.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
She thumbs over her shoulder. “The pics on the wall are really cool too.”
I grab the rag and wipe my prints from the hood of her car, feeling guilty as if I’m about to deliver the news that there’s been a death in her family.
She strolls over to me.
We stand facing each other for a while.
I roll my neck and stretch for just a few seconds.
“What’s the damage?” Vashti bites on her fingernails.
Pursing my lips, I laugh a little. “Well, there’s lots of it. I’m not going to be able to get this machine working today. It needs a lot of work. New parts and stuff. I can—”
Her face twists. “It’s going to be expensive…”
“Yeah, really expensive.”
She growls. “I barely have the money to pay you for coming to our rescue on the highway.” She reaches in the window for her bag. “I can give you half now though and then next week when I get paid I promise I’ll bring you the other half…” The rest of her words are muffled.
“It’s okay.” I clear my throat.
She emerges from the window with messy hair and sweaty cheeks. “No, please.” She shoves me a wad of cash. Some of the crunched-up bills drop on the floor. “No, please take this for now and I promise I’ll come back and make sure you get the rest. I-I-I’m really sorry about this, Racehead. I mean, Nevada. Shit. I don’t know what I’m saying.” She shakes her hand around some more encouraging me to take the money out of her closed fist while she picks up the bills which fell on the floor. “Is there a bus stop around here?”
I just stare at her. Then, I step closer to where she stands and cover her hand with mine, lowering it. “It’s fine.”
“It’s fine?” Her dark brows arc and her mouth remains open.
I shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Well, keep the car then. You can make money off the parts. The ones that work anyways.” She laughs.
I quickly accept she won’t let giving me something in return rest. “Okay, if that’s what you really want.”
“Yeah, it is.” A little breath leaves her.
We get stuck in a moment. It’s weird and confusing and feels like it lasts forever.
Clearing my throat, I let go of her hand.
Vashti looks away from me and runs her fingers on her free hand through her hair. Then, she looks at the money. “You really should take it, Nevada. I feel like I’ve tied up your day.” She gestures with her chin to the two-way radio that’s going off at my waist.
I sigh long and loud.
Stomping. More stomping. A big breath leaves me.
Vashti’s eyes dart around.
“Nevada! Nevada! NEVADA!” The voice is getting closer and then the door flies open, ruining this beautiful moment foreverrrrr.
Vashti
“NEVADA!”
I step back.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a customer.” The woman smiles, puffs on her cigarette and nods in my direction. “I’m Syd. Who are you?”
Nevada grumbles something to herself.
I recognize this woman from the photographs on the wall. Tucking the money in my hand away, I take two steps forward to shake the hand of the woman I’d spoken to only a few hours ago who was kind enough to send help right away to me. “I’m Vashti. We spoke on the phone this morning.”
Syd’s brown eyes squint. “Oh, you. Yeah, yeah, I remember.” Her brows crush together. “You should really learn how to change a flat tire, honey.”
I laugh a little. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been told.”
“I swear it’s how women get killed every day.” Syd frowns. “Asking some weird stranger for help instead of just changing that fucking tire herself and driving away.”
Nevada smiles.
“Is this your car?” Syd steps farther into the garage and past me, examining the car. “It’s old. It’s way older than I thought it would be.” Her face twists up in one grossed out expression. “It’s a wonder the thing didn’t explode with you in it?” She barks out a laugh.
Nevada huffs. “Syd, I have a lot to do today.”
Syd pulls the cigarette from her mouth. “Yeah, ya do, Nevada. As a matter-of-fact, that’s what I was coming to talk to you about. That old woman is still on the other side of the city waiting for you to come to her. She keeps calling and calling and calling. I mean where the hell have you been?” Syd leans forward and then her marbles swing between the two of us. “Oh, I see?”
Nevada’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, so you see, I had to tow this car back here.”
Syd’s lips twist. “Uh, huh.”
“Yeah, so….” Nevada’s lips press together in a firm line.
I finally get the chance to look over Syd, who I realize is the woman who owns this garage and I’m guessing the house that’s attached to it too. Syd is rail thin and the owner of one thick brown curly mullet. Her smoky alto betrays her. Without seeing her face, one would assume they’re about to bump into Toni Braxton when they finally meet, not this white woman standing in front of me who has more colorful tatts on her neck than a down South rapper.
“Yeah, so, the car won’t start.” Nevada places a hand on the hood. “As soon as I leave here, I’ll head out to the old lady.” She offers up a perfect white smile.
“Yeah, yeah, please do that, Nevada.” Syd edges closer to me, puffing her smoke. She elevator scans me once, twice, three times. “Where you from?”
“La Sierra.” I stand up a little straighter.
Syd smiles. “I’m sure you know that isn’t what I meant.”
I don’t say anything more, only laugh when Syd does and then it grows long until her chest is shaking with it.
She reach
es out and grabs a lock of my hair. “Pretty.”
“Thanks.” I ease a thick section of my tresses out of her hand.
Syd shifts her weight to one side. “You know, I once knew a woman who was beautiful like you. Always wished I could’ve married her but that never happened. She died much too soon—”
“Oooookay.” Nevada slams the car door. “Syd, please.”
Syd tosses her arms up in the air. “What, Nevada! I’m just talking to your friend over here. She doesn’t seem to mind me telling her a little bit about myself. What’s your fuckin’ problem?”
Nevada gives Syd a fierce look. “No…problem.” She smiles. “I just have a lot of shit to do. We don’t really have time to chit chat.”
I stand uncomfortably in the middle of the showdown.
Is this Nevada’s mother?
She doesn’t call her Mom. And they certainly don’t seem to have that kind of a relationship. They don’t look alike either. Does she just live with her boss?
Pushing the questions aside, I snatch my purse out of the car and toss the loose bills in the bottom of it. Then, I gather up my hundred tons of books and shove them into my very large purse. I give the vehicle one last glance knowing it’s likely going to the chop shop. So, now I have no transportation.
Nevada moves around the garage quickly, hitting buttons, snatching up keys, talking on her two-way radio.
Syd is wearing a permanent Grinch face.
“Okay, well it was nice to meet you, Syd.” I throw my bag over my shoulder and head toward the open garage door.
Syd points a finger at Nevada. “This is why you never make any friends. You’re unfriendly. Cars are not people. Nevada, believe it or not, people are more important than cars.”
“They are?” Nevada doesn’t look at Syd as she rushes around.
I laugh a little at her sarcasm as I weave between the vehicles.
“Yeah, they are, Nevada.” Syd tosses her cigarette on the ground and stomps it out. “One day, you’ll get that. It’s just my advice but you don’t have to listen to it. When do you ever listen what I have to say, Nevada?”
“Oh, Syd, please, not today and not right now. It’s too hot to be arguing about things no one really cares about.” Nevada snatches up a tool kit and rests it down near the garage door.
I finally make it to where she’s lingering. “Thanks so much for your help. You really don’t know how much I appreciate it.” I extend a hand and nod non-stop. I stumble back a bit when a large rottweiler trots toward me, wagging its short tail and slobbering.
Nevada grabs the dog by its collar. “This is Pete. He’s no harm.”
Pete?
A delicate name for such a massive dog with very big teeth.
“Oh.” Smiling uncomfortably, I reach out to pet him.
He’s definitely friendly.
Syd is still in the garage rambling away, only no one is listening to her.
I stand straight and check my watch, then rummage around in my heavy bag full of books for my phone if the books in there haven’t crushed it.
Nevada regards me curiously.
“Maybe I could buy you lunch sometime.” Inwardly, I cringe. I couldn’t sound more desperate with that offer. Besides, I don’t have any extra money floating around to take any woman to lunch! Now, I’m one job down and car-less!
“I don’t really have time to do lunch most days, sorry.” Nevada smirks.
“Oh, oh, okay then, well.” Squinting my eyes against the sun, I stutter away. “I-I-It was really good to meet you, Nevada. I’ll be seeing you around.”
She steps closer. “How are you going to get around? This is California. It’s a lot of wide-open space. It’s hot. Lots of bad traffic.” She cranes her neck up to the sky just as an airplane passes overhead.
“I’ll catch the bus. I’m used to the bus. It’s no problem really.” Smiling, I set off toward the big gate that closes this place in and toss Nevada a wave.
“V! Vashti! Wait!”
I freeze in place hating the way that all the dust on the ground covers my feet in my flip flops and for just a second, I feel as if I’m back in Assam. Frantically, I reach down and brush off my shins.
“Vashti!” Nevada jogs in my direction.
When I stand upright and swipe my hair out of my face, I find myself peering into unreadable gray orbs and then at the keys in her hand. She smiles and gestures for me to take them.
My eyes must tell her everything I’m thinking.
A charming smile sits on her lips. “I won’t take no for an answer.” She slants her head to the side. “Just keep it for now. I don’t use it anyways. Plus, how will you get to work and get Banks around this city? A girl needs wheels, Vashti. And you’ll be doing a lot of walking around the city without them. Your flip flops might melt, and your feet will burn.” She chuckles.
So do I.
A warm breeze washes over us. The birds sing. The sky is clear.
Honestly, it’s a beautiful day.
With my hands on my hips the biggest exhale in history leaves me and then I laugh.
Nevada remains in front of me, not budging an inch, still holding the keys out.
I think, think, think.
And I know she’s right.
On the bus, it takes me exactly two hours to get to work and maybe a half hour longer if Banks misses the school bus. But driving, it’s maybe forty minutes. I’ve wasted a fuck-ton of my time messing with the bus since I’ve been here in Riverside, but I’ve had no choice!
“Please take the car.” Nevada slaps the keys in my hand. “When you get a better ride, just give me a call and I’ll come and pick this one up from you.”
A better ride?
I can barely afford bus tickets!
“Really?” I drop my head to look at the keys.
“Yeah, Syd already has your numbers and stuff, so I can always find you.”
“Yeah, you can always find me.”
“And my number is on the back of those keys.” Nevada’s two-way radio goes off a-gain. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, V. I’ll see you around.”
“Okay.”
Her hips sway in those ripped up overalls that hit the tops of her thighs when she walks away. With ease, she pulls open the wrecker’s door, jumps in and shuts it.
The rumble of it shakes the ground where I stand.
Pete barks.
The bassline of M.I. A’s “Bad Girls” explodes from the tow truck when it pulls out of the gate, leaving a cloud of orange dust behind it.
Pete licks my hand. I give him a quick scrub on the head and jiggle the keys in my hand, realizing I have no idea which vehicle they belong to in this lot of a million autos.
“Shit.” I examine the sailboat emblem on the key chain.
“They go to that black 1970 Plymouth Barracuda over there.” Syd’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “That Cuda’s a real bitch, so don’t run her too hard or you’ll get stopped by the cops.”
Pete breaks out into a dash over to Syd and then they both disappear from my sight.
“Okay, t-t-thanks!” I lift a hand and wave.
The air is thick as I make my way across the lot to the car. It’s big and black with tinted windows. I spear the key in the door handle and twist. Once inside, I wind the windows down to let the breeze in.
The interior of the vehicle is all leather. It’s an old car but it’s been restored for sure. Plus, it has seatbelts. I shove the key into the ignition and twist. The engine starts up, showing off with its idle that’s low and deep. It’s the type of rumble that just makes you want to hit the gas to see how fast it will go. But I must remember I just got my license…
Biting my lip, I look at myself in the side-view mirror.
This is a car.
This is a car that makes you want to just drive.
Pressing my foot down on the gas, the car eases out of the parking spot.
As much as I want to take this baby out for a spin, I know I need to use these wheel
s to find a new goddamn job.
I hit the gas.
CHAPTER TWO
Nevada
A FEW NIGHTS LATER…
I breathe in the cool night breeze and gaze up at the cliffs.
An eagle cries as it soars over the mountains. Its large wings are a dark shadow in the clear sky that’s full of twinkling stars where the white moon glows.
My boots hit the pavement as I walk along the winding road. I stop when I make it to the double yellow line and imprint the curve of this street in my mind.
Dropping into a squat, my open palm hits the pavement.
Warm.
Even though the night air is cool.
I smile.
Reaching down, I grab a handful of sand and pebbles then stand to examine the dirt in my palm.
“I don’t know why we’re out here, Nevada. This is stupid. You’ve run this track a million times.”
Doesn’t matter. In the dark, the roads up here in the mountains can be a maze. We’d already lost two drivers years back. One off the west cliffs and the other went into a wall head-on, broke their neck, died right on impact.
I made up my mind a long time ago that would never be me.
“This Road Whisperer shit is silly.” Ash leans against her red 2015 Honda Civic. Its headlights illuminate where I stand and the high cliffs above where it’s parked on the shoulder.
Just beyond the shoulder is a one-hundred-foot drop that you won’t be coming back from if your car careens over the edge.
Around here, the turns are tight. The road is narrow in certain spots and there’s no allowance for any drifting. And even if there was, it would only take time off your speed. Minutes you can’t afford when you’re vying for first place.
Opening my hand, the dirt slips through my fingers then the wind takes it away.
“You didn’t have to come out here with me, Ash.” I glance over my shoulder at her nonchalant pose.
She drags her fingers through her electric blue mop. “Well, you promised me tacos, Nevada. I don’t know how going out for tacos turns into a night of standing in the complete darkness out in The Badlands.” Ash lowers her head, mumbles something beneath her breath and shoves her hands deeper in her pockets. “It’s fuckin’ cold out here too.”