Hank Lake was the epitome of a Southern good old boy. With sun-pinked skin and a slightly piggish look to his face, he could have done justice to a remake of The Dukes of Hazzard as a double for Boss Hogg. That being said, he was a lot gentler than his outer expression put off. In fact, he was a pretty good guy.
"Bell," Hank said one evening as I was sweeping up the mechanics’ bay. It was one of the duties of my job, along with fetching tools, unloading and sorting parts deliveries, and a lot of go-fer work in general. I couldn't complain though. Chris had arranged that I was getting twelve bucks an hour, and each of the two weeks I'd been there so far, there'd been the chance to catch a few hours of overtime. "Come by my office when you're done with the bay."
"Yes sir, Mr. Lake," I said, putting my broom aside. I still had two more steps to clean the floor, since it was a Friday. After the initial sweep, I had to scatter absorbent material over any obvious oil spots, let it dry, and then sweep those up before mopping the whole bay with a strong detergent that was supposed to break up any thin layers of oil. If there were a lot of spots for the absorbent stuff, it could take upwards of an hour and a half to do the whole thing. Thankfully, that night there were only two, both of them small and in bay four, the left-most bay. By the time I finished the first three repair bays, I was able to sweep up the absorbent material, which now looked a lot like wet kitty litter, and get bay four done without too much delay.
I found Hank in his office, located inside the sales area. He wasn't a salesman. He'd let his brother deal with that side while he concerned himself with the mechanical side of things, but as the now operations owner of the whole chain—four dealerships throughout central and southern Georgia—he'd had to leave the greasy coveralls behind. In the little bit of time I'd worked there, it seemed to me that he wished he was back in the garages instead of wearing a white duck, cotton button-down shirt. I knocked on his door frame, a habit from my military days I hadn't yet lost. "Mr. Lake? I just finished bay four. Sorry if you were waiting."
He looked up from his desk, which was covered in paperwork and invoices, so much so I had no idea how he kept it organized. He must have had one hell of an assistant. "Not at all, Bell. Trust me, there's always more work to do with keeping this place going. Have a seat."
I looked down at my stained and spotted coveralls, and shook my head. "No offense, sir, but I'd mess up your office. If it's all the same to you, I'll stand."
Hank nodded, looking my clothes over. "Suit yourself. I just wanted to give you your first paycheck personally, so here you are." He handed over the envelope, which I glanced at before putting it in my back pocket. "You're not going to open it?"
"No, sir. I was taught that you don't tear open letters and stuff like that when the person giving it to you is still there. Either it's good news, in which case it can wait, or it's bad news, in which case you don't want to lose your temper in front of who gave you the letter. Besides, I trust you, and I've kept track. To be honest with you, no matter what it is, it’ll seem like a fortune."
Hank sat back in his chair, entwining his fingers over his belly. "I'm going to be honest with you, Bell. When my nephew said he wanted me to give you a job, I was confused. I don't know if you know, but he and that boy, Lloyd, knew each other before they enlisted in the Army."
I shook my head, surprised. "No, I didn't, sir. I always thought that the three of us met at Benning in Airborne School."
Hank chuckled. "Nope. That boy, Lloyd—his parents are from right here in Atlanta, same as Chris. In fact, Lloyd's daddy and I were high school classmates. Lloyd and his folks moved up to Pennsylvania right after he finished his junior year in high school. You never noticed he had an accent?"
"Lloyd was one of those guys whose accent never really gave him away," I said. "Maybe he blended his Southern with a bit of Yankee or something. Besides, a lot of us ended up with a bit of accent after a while. It kind of all blurs together when we're in green."