Breakdown
It was almost inevitable, really, Logan thinks as he closes the hood on his car. Go on a cross-country road trip with no real plan or expectation or, you know, money, and something bad is going to happen.
In this case, it was a smoking, overheated engine. Logan calls a tow truck outside Dayton, Ohio, and books a motel room near the garage.
He gets the bad news the next day.
"Yeah, your water pump's gone," the mechanic says soberly. "Blew a gasket, too."
Logan frowns. "That's expensive, right?"
"On this car?" the mechanic (his name patch says his name is 'Floyd') says, indicating the Land Rover. "Yeah. Gotta order the part."
Logan sighs. "How long's that gonna take?"
"Week, maybe," Floyd says, shrugging. "Maybe more. Depends. It's a holiday, innit?"
"Is it?" Logan asks, eyeing the man curiously.
"Yep," he says. "Just about New Year's Eve. So that could complicate things."
"Huh," Logan says. "Didn't realize that much time had gone by."
A night here, a night there - he hasn't been in any particular hurry. It's been a meandering trip. One that's apparently taken a toll on his car.
The mechanic's still staring at him, and Logan returns to the moment abruptly. "Any place around here I can get a job? Just 'til it's fixed?"
Floyd shrugs. "We've got a temp labor agency over 'cross the highway. Don't know how much work they'll have this time of year, but they might be able to get you something."
Logan nods. "You just look after my car."
Floyd nods back. "Can do. She's a fine piece of work."
An hour later, after a cold, fruitless walk to the labor agency, Logan's got a brand-new occupation: Snow-shoveler, dish-washer and busboy for the diner in motel.
It's not glamorous, but it'll do. Until his car gets fixed.
In this case, it was a smoking, overheated engine. Logan calls a tow truck outside Dayton, Ohio, and books a motel room near the garage.
He gets the bad news the next day.
"Yeah, your water pump's gone," the mechanic says soberly. "Blew a gasket, too."
Logan frowns. "That's expensive, right?"
"On this car?" the mechanic (his name patch says his name is 'Floyd') says, indicating the Land Rover. "Yeah. Gotta order the part."
Logan sighs. "How long's that gonna take?"
"Week, maybe," Floyd says, shrugging. "Maybe more. Depends. It's a holiday, innit?"
"Is it?" Logan asks, eyeing the man curiously.
"Yep," he says. "Just about New Year's Eve. So that could complicate things."
"Huh," Logan says. "Didn't realize that much time had gone by."
A night here, a night there - he hasn't been in any particular hurry. It's been a meandering trip. One that's apparently taken a toll on his car.
The mechanic's still staring at him, and Logan returns to the moment abruptly. "Any place around here I can get a job? Just 'til it's fixed?"
Floyd shrugs. "We've got a temp labor agency over 'cross the highway. Don't know how much work they'll have this time of year, but they might be able to get you something."
Logan nods. "You just look after my car."
Floyd nods back. "Can do. She's a fine piece of work."
An hour later, after a cold, fruitless walk to the labor agency, Logan's got a brand-new occupation: Snow-shoveler, dish-washer and busboy for the diner in motel.
It's not glamorous, but it'll do. Until his car gets fixed.