fic: the death of the washing machine (bingo prompt "reading aloud")
title: the death of the washing machine
prompt: reading aloud
notes: molly is harley's horse, or at least a horse he considers to be his. i'm not quite sure how he got her, or when. she lives at the stables where he works, and either he gets to board her there for free in exchange for working there, or he gets some kind of discount. or something. i haven't exactly done a lot of research on stables. her real name is mr ed because whoever named her wasn't paying very close attention.
The radio dies on Harley as he's driving home from the stables. He doesn't mind the sudden silence but this will be the third time it needs to be fixed, and he's starting to think he should just get a new one. He should have done that the first time, but how hard could it be to fix a car radio?
Hard, apparently.
He drives forty minutes with radio silence, although he has the windows rolled down so it's not exactly quiet. He does some thinking, but mostly he just drives. When he gets home, he'll ask Corbin's advice about the radio.
As Harley turns off the road into the driveway, the sun hits the upper windows of the house in such a way that they go shiny and opaque, reflecting back the orange sunlight as if they're made of copper, and for a minute he is full of love for this house. It is an old house with cranky plumbing and idiosyncratic wiring, it needs to be painted, it is impossible to keep clean, it is bigger than he and Corbin will ever need, it is full of stuff that isn't his, and it is home. Sometimes it is a very frustrating house to live in, but Harley is happy living in it.
Grandma Ida used to have a superstitious friend who believed that a person should pass through the front door of their house only three times in their life - coming home from the hospital right after they're born, coming home from the church right after they're married, and on their way out to the funeral home right after they die. When she came over, she always came into the house through the back door into the kitchen.
Harley thinks of that sometimes when he comes home from somewhere, and now he goes around back to the kitchen door. The door is open but the screen is closed, and as he walks into the kitchen he can hear clanging and swearing from the laundry room. That must be Corbin.
The laundry room is off the kitchen, an afterthought that Grandma Ida's husband built onto the house so they'd have a place to put the washer and dryer. The washing machine is now pulled away from the wall. There are pieces of its insides on the floor, and Corbin is sitting back on his knees, glaring at it and cursing.
"Hey," Harley says. "What's with the washing machine?"
"Beats me," Corbin says, sounding frustrated. "It's busted and I'm not sure how to fix it."
"Can you fix it?"
"I hope so. I don't wanna buy a new one."
"Can we afford a new one?"
"That's why I don't wanna have to buy it." He shifts so he can look Harley in the face. "You're home early."
Harley shrugs. "There wasn't anything else to do, so Mrs Larsen sent me home. I got to ride Molly around the yard, though, that was fun."
"Cool. Do me a favor?"
"Sure. What?"
"Get me the damn manual for this thing." Corbin gestures to the washing machine. "Read me the instructions on hooking it up. Read me the troubleshooting tips. I dunno. Maybe that'll help."
"Where is it?"
"Uh." Corbin thinks about it. "I don't know. In the kitchen somewhere, probably."
So Harley goes back into the kitchen and rummages through drawers until he finds the manual, and then he takes it back to the laundry room. Corbin hasn't moved. He's still glaring at the washing machine. Harley leans against the wall to stay out of the way and flips through the manual.
"Ok," he says, "what do you need?"
"Troubleshoot me."
"What was the trouble?"
So Corbin explains the assorted noises that the washing machine was making and what happened when he tried to fix it, and Harley reads the tips out of the manual and waits for Corbin to try them. But after an hour it becomes clear that their best option is to just replace the washing machine.
"Shit," Corbin mutters. "Why couldn't it be the dryer? We could just hang everything outside."
"I think it's older than we are. It's probably time. Oh, the radio went out in my pickup too, on the way home."
"You should've replaced that a year ago." Corbin hauls himself to his feet and wipes his hands on his jeans. "Now I'm hungry. It's gotta be time for dinner."
Harley drops the washing machine manual on the washing machine, just in case they need it again, and follows Corbin into the kitchen. He's not excited about replacing the thing, but he's also not excited about driving the laundry an hour to the closest laundromat, either. And maybe while they're replacing things, he can get a new radio for his truck.
prompt: reading aloud
notes: molly is harley's horse, or at least a horse he considers to be his. i'm not quite sure how he got her, or when. she lives at the stables where he works, and either he gets to board her there for free in exchange for working there, or he gets some kind of discount. or something. i haven't exactly done a lot of research on stables. her real name is mr ed because whoever named her wasn't paying very close attention.
The radio dies on Harley as he's driving home from the stables. He doesn't mind the sudden silence but this will be the third time it needs to be fixed, and he's starting to think he should just get a new one. He should have done that the first time, but how hard could it be to fix a car radio?
Hard, apparently.
He drives forty minutes with radio silence, although he has the windows rolled down so it's not exactly quiet. He does some thinking, but mostly he just drives. When he gets home, he'll ask Corbin's advice about the radio.
As Harley turns off the road into the driveway, the sun hits the upper windows of the house in such a way that they go shiny and opaque, reflecting back the orange sunlight as if they're made of copper, and for a minute he is full of love for this house. It is an old house with cranky plumbing and idiosyncratic wiring, it needs to be painted, it is impossible to keep clean, it is bigger than he and Corbin will ever need, it is full of stuff that isn't his, and it is home. Sometimes it is a very frustrating house to live in, but Harley is happy living in it.
Grandma Ida used to have a superstitious friend who believed that a person should pass through the front door of their house only three times in their life - coming home from the hospital right after they're born, coming home from the church right after they're married, and on their way out to the funeral home right after they die. When she came over, she always came into the house through the back door into the kitchen.
Harley thinks of that sometimes when he comes home from somewhere, and now he goes around back to the kitchen door. The door is open but the screen is closed, and as he walks into the kitchen he can hear clanging and swearing from the laundry room. That must be Corbin.
The laundry room is off the kitchen, an afterthought that Grandma Ida's husband built onto the house so they'd have a place to put the washer and dryer. The washing machine is now pulled away from the wall. There are pieces of its insides on the floor, and Corbin is sitting back on his knees, glaring at it and cursing.
"Hey," Harley says. "What's with the washing machine?"
"Beats me," Corbin says, sounding frustrated. "It's busted and I'm not sure how to fix it."
"Can you fix it?"
"I hope so. I don't wanna buy a new one."
"Can we afford a new one?"
"That's why I don't wanna have to buy it." He shifts so he can look Harley in the face. "You're home early."
Harley shrugs. "There wasn't anything else to do, so Mrs Larsen sent me home. I got to ride Molly around the yard, though, that was fun."
"Cool. Do me a favor?"
"Sure. What?"
"Get me the damn manual for this thing." Corbin gestures to the washing machine. "Read me the instructions on hooking it up. Read me the troubleshooting tips. I dunno. Maybe that'll help."
"Where is it?"
"Uh." Corbin thinks about it. "I don't know. In the kitchen somewhere, probably."
So Harley goes back into the kitchen and rummages through drawers until he finds the manual, and then he takes it back to the laundry room. Corbin hasn't moved. He's still glaring at the washing machine. Harley leans against the wall to stay out of the way and flips through the manual.
"Ok," he says, "what do you need?"
"Troubleshoot me."
"What was the trouble?"
So Corbin explains the assorted noises that the washing machine was making and what happened when he tried to fix it, and Harley reads the tips out of the manual and waits for Corbin to try them. But after an hour it becomes clear that their best option is to just replace the washing machine.
"Shit," Corbin mutters. "Why couldn't it be the dryer? We could just hang everything outside."
"I think it's older than we are. It's probably time. Oh, the radio went out in my pickup too, on the way home."
"You should've replaced that a year ago." Corbin hauls himself to his feet and wipes his hands on his jeans. "Now I'm hungry. It's gotta be time for dinner."
Harley drops the washing machine manual on the washing machine, just in case they need it again, and follows Corbin into the kitchen. He's not excited about replacing the thing, but he's also not excited about driving the laundry an hour to the closest laundromat, either. And maybe while they're replacing things, he can get a new radio for his truck.