ON WHY IT WORKS

ON WHY IT WORKS

In the cool shade of the porch Gina sat in her wicker chair reading while her father worked on his truck in their driveway. Occasionally when he grunted or emitted mild profanity she would look up and glance at his legs perturbing from under the vehicle. If neither sound was followed within seconds by a painful scream or a cry of agony she returned to her book.

It was late morning when she heard him declare to himself ‘Time out’ and she quickly responded by closing the book, rising and heading into the house. Ten minutes later she stepped back onto the porch carrying a large pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. After sitting these on the table between the two chairs Gina looked out to see him leaning against the fender of the F-100 while smiling at her.

“I just hope old Bertha hasn’t joined some faith healing religious sect lately,” he chuckled as he patted the hood of the old 4-wheel drive she had fondly christened with that name years back.

“Uh, Dad, didn’t I help you bleed the brake lines a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, and with absolute competence,” he responded as he approached the porch. “But you never know with her au contraire attitude and sometimes the Ford works in mysterious ways.”

“Like letting you think you’re funny, huh?” she giggled as she rolled her eyes.

He laughed heartedly while taking his seat in the wicker chair across from her. As he poured himself a glass of tea he noticed the book she was reading was ‘Grey Mountain’, a John Grisham novel from his own library. He wasn’t surprised by her choice because, after she had read ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ the summer before, she announced to everyone that she intended to become an attorney.

“That’s not on your summer reading list, is it?” he teased her.

“Of course not, Poppo!” Gina replied quickly, again rolling her eyes. “I finished that list last week and this book is so cool. The heros are women and they’re women lawyers, too.”

“Indeed they are.”

He studied her silently as she returned to her reading and thought about the irony of their father / daughter relationship. Although she could be stubborn at times, though he thought she was often too serious for an eleven year old, she was bright for her age and her intentions were always sincere. And she thought he was often too mellow, too understanding towards the flaws in others and too concerned about them staying on healthy diets. Their personalities were opposites and yet they got along well and their mutual affection was never in question. And it certainly helped that the one thing they really had in common was they both processed a natural wit and they enjoyed playing their quirky humor against each other, a trait that tempered any personality conflicts readily.

After he finished his tea he rose and headed into the house for a restroom break. When he returned Gina closed the book and looked up at him, waiting for what she assumed was a request.

“I could certainly use your help performing an exoticism.” 

“I can do that.” she offered as she stood up. “As long as I’m not tossed out the window.”

“You’re safe, Sweety. Anyway, I’m ready to reinstall Bertha’s transmission but need to bleed the master cylinder clutch line first, “ he explained as they headed towards the truck.

Without needing a prompt Gina climbed into the driver’s side of the cab. Although she was not mechanically inclined by temperament she knew from her observations and practicing in private how the clutch worked on manual transmissions because she intended to drive Bertha  herself when she acquired her licence. 

“When I get back under her and give you the clue I want you to depress the petal quickly a few times,” he stated.

She nodded and he crawled under Bertha. When she heard his cue she responded.

“Clutch, you’re about the ugliest, most worthless piece of junk I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she pushed the petal in a half-dozen times. “And nobody likes you so we’re replacing you.”

“Lighten up for a moment, Honey,” she heard him say through the floor boards.

When he pushed himself clear of the chassis she watched as he refilled the slave cylinder bolted to the firewall. Then he came to the window to instruct her again.

“Sweety, we don’t want to depress Bertha’s clutch enough to send it over the edge, so this time let’s depress it a little slower, a little more gently until it starts to resist, okay?

She rendered a silly salute and he eased himself back under the truck. On hearing his cue she again shifted into whimsical gear. 

“Yeah, clutch, you’re not ugly. We know you’re doing the best you can,” she laughed as she continued pushing in the petal. So we’re giving you another chance because - “ she stopped suddenly, then called down to her father, “Pop, it’s starting to defend itself.”

“Perfect,” he respond from below. “Now depress it several more times, but very slowly this time, okay?”

Gina did so until she felt the petal stiffen and called down to him.

“Dad, I think it’s got it’s spunk back now.”

She watched through the window as he freed himself from the truck. When he opened the door she scooted towards the middle of the seat while he inspected the clutch petal pressure.

“Mon Chi Chi, thanks to your intervention she’s demon free now.” he stated as she climbed out of the cab. “The rest I can handle myself, Sweety. And thank you again.”

Gina grinned, nodded her head and headed back to the porch. After cleaning the grease from his hands he followed her. Seeing that she was again reading the novel he gently patted her shoulder.

“You know, Honey, when you get older if you decide not to become an attorney you could have a great career as a comedian,” he said as he sat down.

“Why not both?” she asked, flashing him a shy grim.

“Excellent idea, but you might want to keep your comedy routine out of the courtroom.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Pop!”