Innocent on the run. Part 26.

'When can you start?' the boss asked. Ricky was taken aback, 'R,right away,' he stammered. 'Okay, go see Frank in the workshop, and take this flat tyre with you. He'll find you some coveralls. Ten bucks a week and I buy lunch.' 'Thanks very much,' Ricky said. 'Call me Joe. Honest Joe. That's me,' he said pointing upwards. Ricky looked up and saw the sign above the car sales. 'Honest Joe's Auto's ' Joe grinned, 'What do they call you son?' 'Rick.' He turned and walked over to the workshop, rolling the punctured wheel with him. There was a man inside working on an engine on the bench. 'Frank?' he asked. 'What?' Frank snarled. 'Joe says to find me some coveralls.' The guy threw his spanner on to the bench with a clatter. 'Shit, do I have to do everything around here?' Ricky followed him across to a steel cupboard and caught the pair of overalls that he threw at him. Frank threw a ripped and stained pair of baseball boots on to the floor. He looked at Ricky. 'That's all we got, take it or leave it.' Frank was the same height as Ricky, with black, slicked down hair. His face was pockmarked all over, and his black, fiery eyes stared at Ricky over a huge beaked nose. He was middle aged and weighed about twelve stones. He stared as Ricky put the overalls on over his clothes. 'You'll sweat you're balls off like that, dopey.' he said, wiping his hands on an oily rag. He indicated a door behind him. 'Go change into them in the rest room.' Ricky went into the filthy room, gritting his teeth. This guy had already got up his nose, and he hadn't started work yet. The rest room, as he called it, was a toilet with one pedestal in an unbelievably filthy condition. An oily, cracked sink and a disgustingly dirty roller towel were fixed to the opposite wall, and any paint that had been on the walls had peeled off years before, the cracked and dirty plaster showering off in clouds of dust when you brushed against the wall. Imprints of oily hands had impregnated the wood around the door handle, leaving it blackened and stained. The floor was covered in old rags, empty oil tins, cigarette packets, gum wrappers and cigar stubs. The rubbish from years of neglect! He took the overalls off again, then stripped to his underpants, taking care not to let his clothes touch the floor or walls, before putting the overalls back on. He changed out of his boots into the baseball boots. They were a bit tight on him, but as Frank had said, 'That's all we got, ' he had no choice. Bundling his clothes up, he took them out with him. 'Where can I put these ?' he asked. Frank was working on the engine again, and he pointed with a spanner at the cupboard where he'd found the overalls. Joe came in as Ricky was putting his clothes away. 'Got a nice little job for you, Rick.' He led the way back out to the forecourt and showed Ricky where the hose pipe and cleaning materials were kept, instructing him to wash all the cars, starting with the ones nearest the road and working back. Ricky counted them, and found that there were forty cars on the site, all of different sizes and colours. He worked his way through them steadily and had done the first row of eight when the hose pipe snagged on something and wouldn't move any further. Ricky stood back and tugged it, but it didn't move, so he yanked on it with all his strength and it came free at the same time as he heard a tinkle of breaking glass. He looked back along the length of hosepipe to a knot in the pipe where a wing mirror from one of the cars was trapped, swinging free from the car that it should have been fixed to. 'Shit.' he whispered in panic. He'd ripped a wing mirror off. He dashed over to the car with the mirror in his hand and balanced it back in the hole it had popped out from, hoping that it wouldn't be noticed. He swept the broken glass up in his hand and looked around. No one had noticed, Joe was in his office out of sight, so he dumped the broken glass under the back of the furthest car from the front. Joe came out of the office about an hour later, and called him in for a cup of coffee. 'Where you from, kid ?' he wanted to know. 'I'm over from England on a holiday, but I ran out of money.' 'Okay, so when are you going back ?' 'I can go back any time.' 'So you got an open ticket, huh ?' 'Yes.' 'You're folks are not with you?' 'No, I came on my own.' 'How did you get here? ' 'By sea.' 'The ship came right here to Houston?' 'No, Port Arthur. Is there a dock here at Houston ?' 'There sure is. The ship canal brings them right up to the city.' Ricky's heart skipped a beat. Oh, great! Maybe he could find a ship to take him home. Joe said, 'Frank and me've got to deliver a car to a customer soon, so you'll be in charge here. If anyone wants anything, stall them until we get back, O.K.' 'Yes, O.K.' 'For now, keep washing them cars, buddy.' Ricky went back to washing the cars, happy at the thought of jumping on a ship and being taken home. Joe came out twenty minutes later and called him over to the office. 'Here's the keys to that Chevvy on the end. Bring it over here outside the office to clean it. That way you can answer the phone if it rings.' Ricky looked at the keys. 'Uh, I can't drive.' Joe looked at him in amazement. 'Can't drive ? Course you can drive, it's easy. Look I'll show you how.' He took Ricky over to the Chevvy and showed him where to put the keys in the ignition. 'Put the lever in Park,' he said, pointing to the automatic gear selector. 'Start the engine with the key, then put the lever in Drive, and the car moves. When you put your foot on the gas, it goes faster, put your foot on the brake, it stops. Simple?' he asked. 'Uh, yes. It looks easy.' 'Okay, get in and do it.' Ricky slid behind the steering wheel and looked out over the huge bonnet. It was vast! He made sure the lever was in Park, then turned the key. The engine purred into life. Joe was watching him, nodding his head in encouragement. He slipped the lever into Drive and the big car crept forward. The car had to be turned right, out of the line of vehicles, so Ricky started turning the wheel slowly. Where the actual front of the car was, he had no idea, as he didn't know how much chrome plated bumper stuck out from the front of the bonnet. Joe directed him, waving him on, and when he'd gone far enough, held up a hand to stop him. He signalled for Ricky to go back and turn the wheel the other way. Joe dashed around the back while Ricky found reverse, and stopped him again when he'd reversed enough. Now he could see that he was clear of the other vehicle in front of him, so he crept forwards again and drew up outside the office. He felt exhausted! The sweat was pouring out of him and running into his eyes. 'There you go,' Joe grinned. 'Now you can drive.' Frank came out of the garage, got into his car and started the engine. He waited while Joe got into the Ford that he had to deliver, and followed when he pulled off the forecourt. Joe shouted out the window, 'Back in twenty minutes.' and waved as they sped off. Ricky started cleaning the Chevvy, and was half way around the enormous car when he heard a car pull on to the tarmac in front of the office. He straightened up and started to panic when he found he was looking at a police car, and the cop was already getting out of it. He looked wildly around him, trying to decide which way to run, when the cop waved him over. 'Hey, kid.' he called. Ricky dropped the sponge he was using. This was it. He was caught. He could almost feel the handcuffs snapping on to his wrists and hear the prison door creaking open, as he walked dejectedly towards the policeman. Copyright Deric Barry 2005.