Sent to the Sticks

(6) SENT TO THE STICKS ~ Garage

I looked around the room again, then went to my suitcases laid out on the bed, and opened the largest one. Inside were all my clothes; well all the clothes I had brought with me, I pulled out all the underwear and bras and walked with my arms heavily loaded to the chest of draws, pulled out the top draw and dumped it all in, an assortment of thongs and lacy underwear fell out in the attempt and I cursed as I hit my head bending down to pick them up. With everything stuffed in the draw I attempted to close it while leaning on the pile inside. I heard a laugh from the doorway, and tuned my head to see Sarah leaning against the door frame with a camera in her hands; she snapped a picture and then came over to help me.

"You have no idea how ridiculous you look right now" she said with a chuckle.

"Oh I think I do" I said my voice somewhat strained from putting all my weight onto the mound of underwear.

"Here" she said adding here weight to the draw and slamming it shut, "You know you could fold it, it would fit a lot better"

"I could" I said somewhat sarcastically, before adding with chagrin, "But I don't know how"

"You don't know how to fold?" she asked shocked, and I shook my head,

"I've never needed to, the maid always put away my clothes for me, or she folded them and I would put them in draws"

"You're in for a shock girlie" she said with humour, "I'll tell you what let's leave your unpacking for now, and I'll help later and teach you how to fold everything properly. I know you've had a privileged life but I'm afraid I can't keep up with that," she said with a serious note, "If you live in my house, there are rules, no excessive drinking, no drugs of any kind, chores have to be done, and I'm sorry but I want you to get a job, neither you or I need the money, but its good experience"

I smiled and nodded, those all sounded reasonable, I mean I know it's a shock and I probably can't do half of them without help, but Sarah's taken me in, I owe her this much.

"Great, now shall we go?"

We walked out to the car and I finally noticed the stained overalls she was wearing, I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt combo and instantly felt over dressed, Sarah noticed my worried look, "Don't worry Rae if you are in any danger of getting dirty I will lend you some overalls"

I pulled away from the curb and did a U turn, then took a left at the end of Peach onto Avon, and then followed until we reached the main town square pulled up in front of the 'Wrights Grocery Store', and got out. We walked about a half a block and came to a stop in front of a slightly worn out looking building with an artful sign hanging over the front door, saying; 'Grayson's' I squinted into the sun and looked behind me into the town, various groups of teenagers were milling about, as were the general townsfolk.

Inside the garage I was in heaven, they had a 1969 Plymouth satellite convertible, the hood was propped open and I have to say the owner must have been insane, the engine was ruined, and as I looked closer, so was the undercarriage, something had grated against it crushing the metal work.

"so what do you know about cars?" Sarah asked.

"I know enough, do you remember John Samuels?" I said and she nodded, "Well dad used to take me over to the race track on Sundays and I learnt a little from there, also dad loved his cars, and he loved teaching me about them even more, so I can hold my own" John Samuels was an F1 racer, who's career took off at the tender age of 15, he was one of my dad's best friends growing up, and Aunt Sarah had met him at one of Mom and Dads, Christmas balls; I think they even had a fling for a while, but that was years ago.

"Well Ok then. If you want to help out be my guest, but try not to do anything that is irreparable or makes the cars even worse; I have enough to deal with, OK?" she asked, I practically jumped for joy, this was going to be amazing.

"Over here is where the locker rooms are, the one painted Orange is mine, help yourself to anything you need, it should be all in there" she said indicating a blue door that had the words 'staff only' graffiti painted on it. I nodded and walked in. Sarah's locker stuck out like a sore thumb, it was so bright, I was getting to realise that she liked vibrant colours by now. I tried opening the door but it was jammed, suddenly it flew open smacking into my head,

"Son of a -" I growled rubbing the sore spot that I had already hit once today. I'm not a clumsy person, as a rule I'm just not, Mom had me in ballet classes and gymnastics since I could walk and I was very graceful, so all this falling and smacking was really starting to irk me. Inside the locker I found a baggy pair of overalls, that I put on and a pair of workman's boots to replace the, biker boots I had put on at Sarah's. I finished myself off by grabbing a hair tie and pinning my hair up into a messy bun on my crown and rapping a GTA black and white bandana around to keep the straggly bits off my face.

When I stepped out into the workroom Sarah was in her office dealing with a customer, so I grabbed a creeper and flopped onto it before wheeling myself under the Plymouth to get a better assessment of the damage. What I saw shocked me I had only ever seen damage worse than this to a chassis first hand in one of the crashes at the track, it looked like someone had butchered it with a chainsaw. There were bits of rock crammed into all the crevices; the radiator was cracked and leaking, as was the brake fluid reservoir, and the oil sump.

Good lord, what do you have to do to create this much damage? I rolled back out and grabbed the tools that I needed before getting to work taking the engine apart, I was completely lost in what I was doing and didn't notice as I pulled my overall off my top half and tied it round my waist, that a few guys were staring at me, as I peeled back the sweaty cloth wolf whistles broke my concentration.

"Well aint that the prettiest thing you ever saw?" one of the grease covered men said in a heavy southern drawl, "My names Jason, Jason Kersley" he said scrubbing his hand on his thigh to remove most of the dirt before offering it to me.

"Hi, I'm Rae" I wiping my hand on a rag before taking his calloused palm in mine. He looked in his mid to late 20's, and was wearing grease covered overalls, tied like mine at the waist, revealing hard muscular arms and a 6 pack encased by a dirty wife beater. His face had a boyish look too it and dark stubble trying to hide it. His longish hair was arranged in a disarray of dark curls and his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine when he spoke. Someone cleared their throat and I dropped Jason's hand to look at the perpetrator, who was definitely in his 30's, and had shoulder length dark blonde curly hair that had a smattering of greys running through it. He too held out his hand,

"Damien" he said, "White, I guess you're the girl Sarah told us about, although you don't look anything like she described", Damien also had a good body but was more toned than muscled

"Yes I'm Rae, and I'm really sorry but I really want to get back to work, whoever the idiot is who owns this car needs a serious beating for ruining it" I huffed and got back on the creeper to finish unscrewing.

Over the clang of metal I heard Sarah's voice echo around the room,

"Oi, back to work, I don't pay you to sit around gawping", my laughter was muffled by a radio being turned on. Once again I was completely lost in my work and jumped and smacked my head on the radiator when someone kicked my leg,

"Shit!" I screeched, and rolled out from under the car, "what the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked seriously pissed off at this point.

"Well you're not Sarah"