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CHAPTER FOUR

Parker

"Emmett," Mr Ferrel yells. "You finished?"

"Yeah just cleaning up," I yell from the back of the shop and start to grab my things leaving the tools on the workbench in size order. The wrenches followed by the screwdrivers ending with the screws and bolts, the power tools live on the other side of the bench.

"You come early tomorrow, open up," he turns the corner and throws a pair of keys at me. Mr Ferrel is a simple man, always wearing a cap with a short sleeved shirt underneath the overalls. He has a family back home and a baby girl who needs constant care, meaning I get more time alone in the shop. I catch the keys. "One day I'll copy your own keys."

"Thanks, Ferrel," I nod with a smile, our conversations stay short, he does his work and I do mine.

"Oh and this came for you," he walks by the frame of the door and points to the small console table, then makes his way out, shutting the heavy door behind him.

A parcel sat on the console table surrounded by random rags and tools. The parcel was held together by a piece of brown tape, I rip it off and open the small cardboard box. Inside are some replacement parts, Steering Damper and Struct. Nice. This should upgrade the suspension at least.

At the back of the shop my baby lives. It's been a project of mine from a few years' ago and I'm slowly pieces my humpty together again. The car came from a wreck when we first got it, although no one was injured, my baby sure was.

My dream is to one day drive my baby outside once again, a blue pickup truck with a fresh paint of coat. Getting looks left and right. I'd never want to drive like Brandon, just cruising around town.

I lift up the sleeves on my jumpsuit and get to work, checking if the parts fit, I doubt dad would ever buy anything that didn't fit. My parts are a discount versions of the parts used in Brandon's race cars.

I try once, it wasn't fitting right. I must have placed it on wrong. I try again. It still doesn't fit. I look back at the small cardboard box, Strut GXQ873 should fit perfectly. I pull it out and put the old one back it. That one fits. I take them both in my hands and compare them, one is definitely cleaner than the other but the shiny one looks shorter, a lot shorter. The attachment clip is on the wrong side. I check the Steering Damper to see if that one is the same size as my current one, which it isn't.

Should I call dad? Probably not, he's over doing god know what. However I continue to use the shop phone resting above the console table and call his mobile. I'm not at all expecting an answer and was fully prepared to leave a message.

Beep.

"Hey Dad, its Parker. I was just callin' to say some parts were sent to the shop and they didn't fit the Old Chevy Pickup. I'm not sure if they gave us the wrong ones or if they are they for something else. Uhm, hope you're all good. And I wish you two luck during the races. Uhm, see ya. Oh and its Parker."

The receiver makes a ringing bang when I place it back on the telephone hook which echoes through the Autoshop. To keep my mind off it I head back to my baby. Knowing dad he won't return my call, he probably won't listen to the voicemail I left him. He'll be too busy with Brandon, I can't be mad at him, he does this for a living.

Sometimes I just wish he would pay a little more attention to me, or to the girls... or to mum. He's a working man, paid to manage his son and work beside him and his team to fix any car troubles along the way.

I close the hood of my Chevy after leaving the message and clean up around the work station. Piles of random junk and pieces of scrap lay spread across the floor among puddles of grease that stick to my pants.

Mr Jefferson's car is a simple fix. The problem with simple fixes is that, although they require not much effort, they take a lot of time. He came into the shop a few days ago complaining of faulty brakes and yada yada. We replaced the brakes and had a look around at everything else. The engine seems outdated but it may take a while to see if it needs a new one.

A lot of the work we take in the shop is either massive jobs of reconstruction, or simple jobs like replacing four tires or a smashed window with a new one. Clients consist of family friends and towns people that have seen us generation after generation, dad's family owned the business before he did and now Mr Ferrel has taken over since Brandon became more well known. Living in a small town definitely has its perks. One library, one school, one hospital and one mechanic.

We each play a role in the town too, help each other's families in times of need. The small town is our family.