I can hear the clanking from here

So remember our super cool awesome cheap used car?

Well, our mechanic (a good friend who happens to be a bunch of words like Master Certified Healer-slash-Guru Volvo Doctor) was thrilled with the car when he got it in the shop. “I wish I had bought this car! You got tinted windows, great job! I’m just going to tinker with it, don’t worry about a thing!”

Since then we have gotten about six phone calls. I don’t talk to him; the stress is too much. But I am usually with Doug when he gets the calls.

They’re always tremendously cheerful. I hear pieces of it booming through the other side of the phone, “And I… wouldn’t you know…  fell right out! …drying now, so… …just get it from my parts guy… great car!”

And then, two hours later, “Took it down the cul-de-sac… …pvc system, you know? …little bit of a… …hosed it right off!… …bit of a shudder… … great car!”

That night, “Super! No, ‘s on the lift… …engine… …new heater core on ebay!… …a wham-wham noise, you know?… …it’s that big spring that… …great car!”

With each call Doug gets a little paler.

The latest went like this. Phone rang, and Doug gently pressed his forehead against the wall, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and answered: “Hey, how’s the car?” And again the cheery voice, a great bonhomie rolling out through the tinny cell phone speaker: “Great car! Oh, yeah, yanked the engine… …small piece… …sucker fell right on me, hah hah!… …parts guy… …no, it’s hanging on chains in the garage… …new glove box?… …miracle!… …see you soon!”

Miracle indeed. I’m clinging to hope.

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