Hallelujah

There it was!  The snag!  No further to go until we overcame this one problem.  The car sat on the side of the road, hood open, steam roiling out into the clean desert air.  The sun was starting its steady march to noon and the heat would build as it did.  Martha leaned back on the Honda smoking and seething in an uninterruptible silence.  Best to leave her to that business.  No good to come from poking the bear.  Martha was an entirely different problem to solve.  First things first - problem solving 101.

Back to the Honda.  The miles it had carried me without incident were countless.  As reliable as the Northern Star, she was!   But not anymore.  Today was the day I flipped the "Accident Free Days" chart back to ZERO.  And here!  On a desert road hundreds of miles from the nearest outskirts of nowhere.

I grabbed the water bowl from under Charlie's nose; he sniffed the air and lumbered into the shade behind the car where he slumped onto the gravel and sighed in relative defeat.

"What are you doing?" Martha complained.  She flicked her cigarette as far across the interstate as physics would allow.

Irritated, I replied, "Trying to collect any water that comes out of the car.  I've heard they REALLY need it." 

"Don't be a dick!"

"Noted!"

In time the day warmed as the car cooled and I scavenged every unfinished bottle of water I could find in the old car.  Suddenly Martha's tendency to toss discarded garbage into the back seat wasn't such a gross thing after all.

One by one I emptied them into the radiator, topping it with what was left in the dog bowl.

I sat behind the wheel while Martha lit another cigarette and I tapped my fingers on the dash a few times.  She blew smoke in my face and asked, "What the f**k are you waiting for?"

"I'm praying.  You should too!"

"F**k that noise!  I ain't prayin' for s**t, for all the good it does!"

"Well then, shut the f**k up and let me pray in peace!"

And I did!

I prayed out loud, and with all the religious terms I could remember from another life, long ago.  Martha laughed the whole time.

"Amen!"

...And I slowly turned the key through the myriad stages of pre-start.

Click - Radio

Click - Fan and Check Engine Light - No S**t!

Click - (I don't know why this stage exists.  It doesn't seem to do anything.  I'm sure it has a purpose; they don't put useless s**t in cars.)

I reached over and grabbed Martha's hand and brought it, with mine, to the key.  She allowed it.  Hallelujah!

"Please God!" I begged.

"Pleeeze Gaaaawd!" Martha mocked and we cranked the key together, Our hands the combined congregation of the Lord's minimal church (Whenever two or more are gathered in my name).  For better or for worse.

The old Honda chugged a few times then hummed right back to life as if nothing at all odd, or frustrating, or potentially deadly had occurred.

"HALLELUJAH!  HA HA!  HALLELUJAH!" screamed Martha in the first truly joyous tones I had ever heard her utter!

We drove on down that desert road singing the only part of the Leonard Cohen song we knew....

HALLELUJAH!!!

Charlie sighed from the back seat as a candy wrapper landed on him.  It seemed he had resigned things could be worse, even as he thirsted for a drink.