Slow Dance in Purgatory

“It’s something you’re good at, right? I mean, you worked for a mechanic. You know all those old cars. This one’s a beaut! She’s a pink Cadillac convertible and she’s in perfect condition.”

“Perfect condition… except she needs a new transmission?” Johnny laughed at her attempt at salesmanship, his dimples flashing and his eyes bright with mirth. Maggie forgot what she was saying for a moment and stared at him, awestruck.

“Um…yeah… well. Can you at least have a look?” She discovered her ability to speak was still intact.

“How am I going to do that?”

“I can pull it into the shop room. We’ll just clear stuff out a little, and I can drive it right through the door. I just need you to unlock it for me. You can unlock doors, right – with your Jedi mind tricks?”

“My…what?”

“Nothing. Sorry, it’s just something from an old movie.”

“I think I can handle the door. I’ll meet you down there.” If Maggie didn’t know better she would think he was a little excited about her proposition.

Maggie loped back around the school to the car and waited, wondering how it would feel to open a door and not see what was beyond it – to open a door and not be able to walk through it. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Johnny on the other side of the sliding metal door.

“It’s unlocked, Maggie. I can open the door, and you can drive it through. I can’t hear if you’re there or not, and I won’t be able to see you or the car until you cross the threshold –– so just wait until I’m outta the way. Running myself over is one thing I haven’t tried. It probably wouldn’t kill me the rest of the way, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to die today.” His tone light, but there was truth in his banter, and the truth hurt her.

The door swung up and revealed Johnny on the other side. The sun had made a late afternoon appearance, peering through the grey clouds and darting through the misty afternoon fog that lingered after the storm. Sunlight shone directly into the open shop room, yet Johnny was not limned in gold, nor did he squint at the light or even make a shadow on the concrete floor. The light just shot right through him like he wasn’t there at all. It was the strangest thing Maggie had ever seen, and she stared, mesmerized, until he moved to the left, into the shadows, clearing the way for her to pull the car forward.

Maggie eased the car into the garage and came to a stop. She stepped out as Johnny let out a long, low whistle. He walked around the car, his eyes and hands roving over the long, pink Cadillac. A confused look flickered across his face. Johnny ran one finger along the high, thin, tail fin and looked at Maggie, a question in his eyes.

“I know this car. It’s not as shiny, and it’s a little worn around the edges, but I definitely know this car.”

“It has belonged to my Aunt Irene since she was seventeen years old. She said it was brand new, right off the show-room floor. I think you knew her…once.”

“Irene…Honeycutt?”

Maggie nodded.

“Irene Honeycutt is your aunt?” Johnny’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

“My great aunt,” Maggie responded hesitantly, gauging the effect her words had on her new friend. “My grandmother was her little sister.”

“Your grandmother…” Johnny repeated, stunned. He shook his head in wonder and turned his back to her, pulling the garage door down, but Maggie heard his low curse despite his attempts to cover it.

Maggie fiddled with the latch holding the trunk down. She popped it and lifted her bike out, wondering how in the world they were supposed to have a conversation if everything she said had the potential to upset him, if everything was a painful reminder of lost time.

“Irene Honeycutt,” Johnny sighed deeply. “I’ll be damned. I guess that’s why you reminded me of her the first time I saw you. You have her coloring – same dark hair and blue eyes.” Johnny reached out and tweaked her braid, shaking off the gloom that had temporarily gripped him.

“So tell me. How did you get your little hands on Irene’s car?”

“Well – I live with her. She and I are all the family each of us has left. She left for the weekend, and I thought maybe I could do something for her. You know, to thank her for taking me in and all. Gene, I mean Harvey, said it was probably the transmission, and that sounds expensive. I just hoped you could fix it….for free.” Maggie wrinkled her nose at him doubtfully. “I guess it’s a long shot, but if we can do it, it would be huge.”

“Little Harvey? Gene’s boy?” Johnny was once again caught off guard.

“Yes…he’s Gene’s son. He’s not so little anymore though. He’s kind of old… and fat,” Maggie said matter-of-factly.

Johnny burst out in an incredulous chortle. “Little Harv. You know, he got that name toddling around the shop. He couldn’t have been more than two. He had these little toy cars that he pushed everywhere. It was the sound he made for the engines revving – HARV, HARV!” Johnny laughed again. “We started calling him Little Harv, and then it became Harvey. I guess it stuck, huh?”