I hand the wrench to Remi.
“See if you can get your hand in there,” I direct him.“They’ll be tight, so start with little jerks to get some movement.Sometimes tapping the head of the bolt can help loosen it up.”I clap the kid on the shoulder.“While you take care of that, I’m gonna work on the side mirror, and take a peek inside to see if there’s anything else worth taking.”
The mirror doesn’t take long, and I’m not really interested in anything else, but I want to give the kid a chance to finish the job without the extra pressure of me breathing down his neck.
When I hear him curse, I grin and decide to give him space.I’ll go have a look for that pickup Wally said might be around here somewhere.
You really have to have a sharp eye to spot the treasures in this graveyard of vehicles and old metal.Exploring a junkyard is like a sport to me, and I get a kick out of digging up useable stuff from the piles of crap.Feels like a win to walk away with something valuable to you.
I find it two rows over, a green Chevrolet C/K with what once was an off-white trim along the base of the fenders and doors.Looks like it’s in pretty rough shape.The driver’s side front fender is missing, as is the tailgate, and it has quite a bit of rust I could put my fist through in some places.The inside isn’t much better, with rips and holes in the seating, a missing gearshift and rearview mirror, and a crack in the dashboard.
But, it has all four of its wheels, albeit on flat tires, and more importantly—at a quick glance under the hood—the engine looks to be intact.I hold no illusions it would be working after having sat out here all this time, however, it could potentially be rebuilt.
The buzz of an electric engine draws my attention as Wally drives up in his golf cart.
“You found it.”
“Yeah.Pretty rough shape though,” I comment, setting the stage for what I’m sure will be another lengthy barter session.
The old man snorts but doesn’t speak, forcing me to open negotiations.
“What will you take for it?”
He looks over at the truck and nods his head, as if he’s trying to come up with a fair price.
“Thousand.”
Barking out a laugh, I start walking back to the Bronco.I grin when the buzz of the golf cart follows me.
“A 1979,” he calls after me.“It’s a popular model.”
“It’s a piece of scrap metal as it sits there,” I fire back over my shoulder.“Not worth more than maybe a hundred bucks, if that.”
“Bull hickey!It’s a collector’s item.”
“Yeah?It’s not doing anything but collecting dirt and rust rotting in your yard,” I point out as I round the corner.
Wally pulls his golf cart up alongside me.
“What do you want it for anyway?”he asks.
“I told you, it’s not for me.”
We’re just coming up on the Bronco when I hear an enthusiastic, “Hell yes!!”from under the hood.
I stop and turn to the old man.
“It’s the kid’s dream truck.”
Wally curses under his breath and turns his head away from me.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Tanek.”
I chuckle.“That’s not news, Wally.”
Suddenly the golf cart jerks forward as the old man rolls on, leaving me to follow behind.
“I got it off,” Remi announces proudly, showing me the grille he’d already pulled off the Bronco.
