Chapter 3

Pepper felt a chill of disbelief. "Four hundred dollars?"

The man leaned forward in his seat. "If you'll just hear me out," he spoke slow and calm.

"I'm all ears. Don't need a damn octologist to tell me that," Pepper said, putting the car in motion.

"Why don't you pull in, here?" the passenger suggested, pointing to the Doggie Diner at the end of the block.

"Fine," Pepper said, turned the wheel into the lot and parked.

"I've heard some good things about you, Pepper."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, very good things. A kid named Teddy told me all about you, said you could use some extra money, too."

"I knew he wasn't all bad. I guess he's right about the money, too. And I'm good things, that's for sure." Pepper was talking with his hands, making fast, circular gestures. "I mean to say I'm good, I'm a good guy good at all kinds of stuff. I can do anything."

The passenger leaned back in his seat. "Well let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. I want you to really consider this job before you take it."

"Well, okay. Okay," Pepper said, wringing his hands on the steering wheel.

"You're a mechanic and what I need done is real mechanic's work. There's going to be a car coming in to your shop later this week, a red Mustang. Just coming in for a routine oil change, which I hear is your specialty."

"It is, sir, changing oil is a craft I'd say I've perfected."

"That's wonderful news. Well what we need is a little extra work. Pepper, can you promise me that what we say will stay here in the front of this car?"

"Yes I can. I won't say a word to another soul."

"All right. This is very sensitive, and it's important that it remains confidential. When the car comes in this week we need to be sure that the breaks are cut, entirely. We're hoping that when the car leaves the shop the breaks won't function and that the driver will be - "

"Taken care of, like in the movies."

"Yes, Pepper. Just like in a movie."

"Well I got a real problem with that."

"I understand," the man said quietly.

"Is this guy some kind of asshole?"

"You could say that."

"Is he the kind of asshole that likes to drive?"

"Yes, he's very fond of his cars, driving them. I can see why you wouldn't want any harm done to another car enthusiast."

"Does he like to drive fast?"

The passenger looked at Pepper for a moment. "Yes, he does."

"Well then what I could do is loosen the nuts on one of his wheels. It won't be very noticeable at first. Once he gets out onto the freeway, highway, starts speeding, the wheel will shake and break off, it'll make the car flip. That should most definitely take care of him."

"Can you be sure?"

"I've seen worse happen when the wheels are loose on accident. And I'll make em real loose."

"I see. Well you are the expert on these matters, Pepper."

"Not to toot my own horn, but yes, I do consider myself to have a highly qualified expertise," he said, tilting his head back. "Now about this money issue," Pepper said, rubbing his chin.

"Yes, I'm sorry that we can't offer-"

"I believe we agreed on four hundred dollars?"

The passenger again paused a moment, looking at Pepper.

"Four hundred dollars, in cash."

"Then I believe we have a deal."

"Excellent, Pepper, excellent."

Pepper stuck out his hand, the man looked down at it, rubbed with grease, the ends of his fingernails totally black. The man shook it and looked at Pepper. "Can I, buy you lunch?"

Pepper nodded. "Yeah, that would be real good."

They exited the car, the man walked ahead. Pepper whispered to himself, "Four hundred dollars."

The Doggie Diner was a walk-up restaurant, single window for orders and checks. A woman in a loose t-shirt was standing behind the glass, her deep-fried hair fell unevenly around her face.

"Why don't you go ahead and order. Please, get whatever you want," the man said.

"Okay, thanks," he said, leaning back to look at the menu. "I'll have a hot dog, and a Coke. Let me get a small french fry, and a half-pint of tuna fish. Let's see I'll have an orange milkshake, too."

The woman was still writing, "Will that be all?"

"Can I get mustard, mayo and ketchup on the dog?"

"Sure."

"And some relish?"

"Okay."

"Oh and some chips?"

"They come with the hot dog."

"No I mean right on the hot dog."

"I'll let you do that."

"Well, okay."

"Will that be all?"

"You gonna have anything, sir?"

The man stood to the side with his arms folded, looking at the asphalt. He looked up, "No, no thank you."

"It'll be six dollars and seventy-six cents," she said looking at Pepper. He gave her a blank look. The man stepped over, taking his wallet from his pocket. Pepper's mouth parted as the full wallet fanned open. The man handed her a ten.

The two men stood at the counter, waiting on Pepper's food. "Could I have the keys back, Pepper."

"Sure thing," he said, handing them over. "Sure was nice to drive that thing. Gotta sell a lot of," he stopped. "What is it you do, by the way?"

"Oh," the man said, putting the keys in his pocket. "Buying, selling, a little bit of both, really."

"I see, buying and selling. That's the way to go, you've got to buy it to sell it." Pepper was rocking back and forth on his heels. "And, I'm sorry maybe I'm getting a little personal, but what's your name, again?"

"My name is Mr. Ford. Gerald Ford."

"Gerald Ford, I think I've heard that name before."

"I would hope you have."

"Well I'm glad to put a name to a face."

The counter window slid open. "Number nine," the woman called. The parking lot, the counter, were empty. Pepper looked at the ticket in his hand. "Guess that'll be me."

"Pepper I've got to be going. I hope that we can count on you this week."

"You sure will, Mr. Ford. Absolutely."

"Number nine," the woman called again.

"Goodbye, Pepper."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you!"

Pepper took his sack of food from the window and found a seat at a picnic table on the building's shaded side.

"And now we feast," he said, unrolling the paper bag.