Arriving at the garage Pepper didn't bother to dismount the bike, instead riding it straight onto the floor.
"Benny!" he called out.
"Nice bike, mang." Benny was sitting behind the wheel of the mustang. He cocked his head to one side. "Pepper, you said you were gonna call your momma."
Pepper dismounted the bike and let it drop to the floor. His chest was heaving. "I did," he said, standing with his hands on his knees.
"Before or after you went swimming?"
"What? Benny, you finish that oil change?"
"Yes sir, now I'm just waiting until the gentleman comes back."
"You think he'd like to see you sitting there like that?"
Benny frowned. "Yeah, I guess not," he said, getting out of the car. "Sure is nice sitting in there, though."
"I'll bet it is, Benny," Pepper said, still halved over. Taking his hands off of his knees he stood up straight, moaned. "Dear god." He looked around the floor of the garage, spotted a tire iron and slowly walked over to it.
"What you gonna do with that?" Benny asked.
"Put it back where it goes."
"Nothing goes no place around here."
"Benny why don't you take a handful of washers and go get us some peanut butter crackers."
"Okay," Benny said, walking to the back of the garage.
Pepper moved over to the car with the tire iron and quickly wrenched a few of the lugs loose on the front passenger side wheel.
"Is my car ready?" a voice called from outside of the garage. Pepper stood as the man approach. "Huh, all set, huh?" the man asked.
"Yes sir, all set for you to go," Pepper said dusting his hands.
"Okay, what do I owe you."
Pepper raised his hand and pointed straight above.
"What?" the man said. He tilted his head back and read a blue banner. In white letters, "OIL CHANGE $19.95."
"Twenty dollars? Are you out of your mind?"
"It's the going rate, sir. Average on oil."
"How much is a quart of oil?"
"Two dollars."
"So you're charging $18 for labor?"
"Well the Mustang, it takes five quarts of oil."
"Well, then," he said reaching into his pocket, producing a thick wallet. "Thanks for all the help."
"You're certainly welcome," Pepper said handing him the keys.
The man stuck out a twenty dollar bill with two fingers. "And we hope to see you in another 3,000 miles."
The man climbed into his car and slammed the door closed.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said, cutting on the engine. He pumped the gas, threw the car into reverse and quickly drove from the garage.
"That's right," Pepper said looking after the car. "You won't be dreaming of much. Tonight or ever."
"Who are you talking to, Pepper?"
He jumped. "Goddamn, Benny, how long you been standing there?"
"I don't know. Why you care about that guy's dreams?"
"I don't. I don't care about them."
"Okay. Well here's your sandwiches," he said handing Pepper the crackers. Pepper tore one of the plastic corners with his teeth. "Listen," Benny said spitting cracker, "you can hear the sidewalk crying in the heat."
* * *
The end of the day had come after the slow drag of afternoon. Pepper wore a bit of a smile on his face during the aching walk home. There were a number of cars parked along the street in front of the house as he approached, the windows lit in nearly every room. A busy night for the girls.
He walked around the back of the house, looking up at the house, imagining the movements that matched the sounds that came from the open windows. At the door he took his key ring from his pocket and after thumbing past a few other keys remembered that Bridgestone still had his room key.
"Goddamn," he said. "If this doesn't beat all," he said, turning back to the front of the house.
Turning the corner of the house he heard voices. On busy nights any waiting clients had to wait on the front porch until the next girl, or if their wallets allowed it, the girl of their choice became available. The porch was crowded with figures, the only light coming from the ends of lit cigarettes.
"Hey, fellas," Pepper said walking up. No one replied. He went straight for the entrance and open the screen door. It was pushed shut immediately by the man closest to it.
"What's the idea, guy?" he said in a low, excited voice.
"No idea, mang."
"If you want to go in you gotta get in line," said someone behind him.
"Well look, I happen to live here."
"Sure bud, I'm the Emperor of Japan," said the man behind him.
"You gotta get in line or I'll get you in line," said someone at the far end of the porch.
"Come on, guys," Pepper said.
A metal lighter flicked open. Its owner held it near his face, tanned, wrinkled, its long nose nearly hanging over the top lip.
"If you think you're going into that house before any of us you have another thing coming," he said.
Pepper sighed. "I'm not going in to see a girl, I'm just talking to Mr. Bridgestone. I live in the basement."
"Bull shit," the man with the lighter said, shoving Pepper in the chest.
"Hey!" Pepper called, stumbling back, the men behind him pushed him back towards the flame.
"What's your goddamn problem, don't you understand there's rules at this house?"
The door swung open.
"What's going on out here?" Bridgestone called.
"This asshole thinks he can jump the line," a man said.
"Who thinks they can?"
"It's me," Pepper said.
"Pepper?" Bridgestone asked.
"Yeh, I just wanted to get my key.
"Your key? Oh, right, your key," he said reaching into his pocket. "Should have said so."
"Well these guys wouldn't let me get to the door," Pepper said.
"Huh," he said, turning the key off the ring. "Pepper, why don't you come in for a minute."
"Okay," and the two stepped inside.
They stopped in the hallway, Bridgestone still working on the key. "I'm sorry about the johns," he said. "They can get a bit out of hand. Only but so much action these girls can handle."
"I know it."
"Here," Bridgestone said, handing Pepper the key. "Thanks for letting me copy it."
"Yeah, it's fine. Listen, now that I'm in here, you mind if I grab a quick shower?"
"A shower?"
"Yeah I haven't bathed in days. And the past few having been pretty rough."
Bridgestone leaned in towards Pepper and pulled in a little air. "Christ boy you ain't kidding. Yeah, make it quick though."
"Thanks a lot," he said, walking to the bathroom.
"Pepper, I think the hot water heater's broken," Bridgestone called.
"Really?"
* * *
Pepper heaved the large garage door open, the morning light broke across the floor, reflecting on a rainbow spot of oil and water, a few scattered tools. With a yellow-handled broom he swept around the shop. Then he collected some of the stray tools and placed them on a bench, then collected a few bags of trash and hauled them around to the back of the shop. In doing a bit of cleaning had done more work at the shop in the minutes before opening than he had all week. He found his bottle of mouthwash and took a pull.
Pepper found a chair and propped his feet up on a milk crate, waiting for Russ or Benny to arrive, day dreaming about the money.
Maybe I could go back to the Doggie, for lunch and dinner in the same day, or maybe somewhere else like the Casa del Taco, maybe buy a new hat, the kind with a fuzzy thing on top, some whiskey, a lot of beers, a new pillow for my cot, a lamp for my room, a copy of Cans, a subscription to Cans, a whole year of cans, goddamn. Even a trip, I might could take a trip, some place far away, maybe Broadsburg, that's two hours from here by car.
"Morning, Pepper," Russ said walking in.
"Oh, hey Russ."
"Sorry I'm late. There was a bad traffic jam on the way."
"Yeah, where at?"
"At the Green Street ramp to the highway. Apparently a bad accident on the interstate."
"Really?"
"Yeah it's all over the radio."
Pepper took his feet from the milk crate and sat up. Pulling at the waist of his pants he walked over to a radio above the shelf of oil canisters and switched it on.
"-before the intersection of the Planter's Ridge Bridge. It's a fifteen mile back up, none of the morning commute has been able to get through as the accident occurred early this morning before the rush hour. A nasty sight from 2,000 feet in the air, back to you, Dave.
That's Pete Sampson with our Eye in the Sky, reporting on this morning's big news, a wreck on Interstate 8. It appears that a car driving southbound was flung into northbound traffic when the driver lost control of the car, colliding with a tractor trailer, now overturned, and creating a lot of residual accidents and, as Pete said, miles and miles of traffic delays. Easily the worst accident in recent county history."
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