She nodded, sniffling.
“Bob was taking that gift to a friend in Diego. I’m bound to see that it’s delivered.”
She looked up at him without much hope. She knew Frank.
“I don’t suppose—”
He shook his head. His expression was gentle but firm.
“No, hon. I’m taking it down myself. I refuse to ship it and I certainly won’t ride the Trans. Not after all these years. No, I’m going down the same way Bob went, by the same route. I’ll have the J.J. tuned first, though.”
She looked around dully, plucking fitfully at the delicate covering of the couch.
“I suppose you’ll at least take it in to—”
“Hector? Certainly. In spite of what he charges he’s damn well worth the money. Best mechanic around. I enjoy doing business with him. Know I’m getting my credit’s worth, at least. We couldn’t have me going somewhere else—now could we? Wouldn’t want him to get the idea we’re prejudiced or something. I’ve been going to him for, oh, five years. Almost forgotten what he is—”
“Going all the way down to Diego, eh, Mr. Merwin?” said the wiry chicano. He was trying to rub some of the grease off his hands. The filthy rag he was using already appeared incapable of taking on any more of the tacky blue-black gunk.
“Yeah. So you’ll understand, Hector, when I say the J.J.’s got to be in tiptop shape,”
“Ciertamente! You want to open her up, please?”
Frank nodded and moved over to where the J.J. rested,’just inside the rolled-up armor-grille entrance
41
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE . ..
to the big garage. He slid into the deep pile of the driver’s bucket, flipped the three keys on the combination ignition, and then jabbed the hood-release switch. As soon as the hood started up he climbed out, leaving the keys in the On position. Hector was already bent over the car’s power plant, staring intently into the works.