Wally picks up on the past tense as well, but doesn’t have any filters.
“Was?Is he dead?”
The kid shakes his head.
“Nah.He’s just not in our lives anymore.”
At that, Wally narrows his eyes as he scoffs.
“Let me guess, your mother cut off all contact,” he judges bitterly.
My guess is old Wally got burned at some point in his life, but that’s no reason to lay into the kid or vilify the boy’s mother.I’m about to let him know, in no uncertain terms, he’s way out of line, but Remi is faster.
“You’d be wrong,” the kid sneers.“I cut him off after I walked in on him hitting my mother.He just made it easier when he moved with his nineteen-year-old girlfriend to Cuba to avoid domestic assault charges or paying child support.He’s dead to me.”
With that Remi swings around and starts walking away.
“Shit,” Wally mumbles, looking duly schooled.
I shove my fisted hands in my pockets.As much as I’d like to fucking punch something right now, I’m not about to give in to a violent tendency around the kid.
Jesus, I had no idea what the story there was, but then again, I guess it’s the kind of history you don’t necessarily broadcast.
I’m gaining a little more understanding of what eats at this boy, and it even gives some insight into what makes his mother tick.
“Where’s the Bronco?”
I don’t bother scolding Wally, who got to his feet and is watching Remi disappear between the rows of discarded vehicles with rheumy eyes.
“The end of that row.”He jerks his chin in the direction the boy went.“Everett pulled it clear so you can get at it.”
After returning to the truck to grab my tools, I head out to find the Bronco, and hopefully Remi.He already found the vehicle, and has the hood open, leaning inside.
“How does it look?”I ask as I approach.
He whips his head around to dart a glance at me, but then quickly turns back, wiping his face on his shoulder.
Fuck.
If the kid is anything like me, he’d probably much prefer a root canal than having his feelings discussed, so I opt to pretend I didn’t see the emotions running down his cheeks.
“Rusted to hell?”I prompt, moving in beside him and leaning in under the hood to have a look.
The body is in pretty rough shape, and someone already raided the engine bay, taking whatever parts were easy to remove.The good thing is, that’ll give us a little more space to work, because the grille is bolted to the radiator support and the inside of the fenders.
I’m actually quite impressed Remi seems to know his stuff, since he is pointing at a badly rusted bolt that indeed is one that holds the grille in place.
“That one is pretty bad, but I think the others should be okay.”
I lean in farther to scan where I know the other bolts to be.The kid is right, most of them look surprisingly clean.I’m guessing the tarp Wally said he found the Bronco under helped to protect it from the worst of the elements.
“Looks like Everett may have sprayed some lube,” I observe.
“Everett?”
“Wally’s son,” I explain.“Grab the roll of gear wrenches from the tool bag, will ya?I think we’ll need the half-inch.”
The first two bolts are easily accessible and I manage to get them off with a little force.I can’t reach the other two on the inside fender though, my hands are too damn big.
