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The Repair

By Daniel Lins - 2009-11-16

The Repair

I was wandering around the parking lot during a rest break in our bus ride, when I noticed the engine compartment was open. Curious, I went over to examine the underbelly of the beast.

As I stood there, out popped two of the three bus drivers, in heated discussion over a metal fuel line one of them was holding. I watched in anticipation as they manipulated it into some twisted conformation in preparation for re-attachment. I offered my help, but they continued working alone.

Soon, other men had gathered round to watch the mechanics at work, drawn to the smell of tools and grease, like flies to the honey. Men kept gathering around, each wanting a closer look, or to be chosen to help in the manly task, but fearing they were inadequate to fix the unknown engine problem. Presently, every male passenger stood around, watching in a loose semi-circle, collectively bending their will power to fix the engine.

Eventually, one man proffered some hand-rags to the two workers, and won his right to help. He must have exhibited some evidence of being a master mechanic, because he quickly earned the trust of the drivers and climbed into the compartment himself.

The two drivers and the master mechanic worked for a short time, and finally climbed out, covered with oil and wiping their hands on old newspapers. The third driver hopped behind the wheel and turned the key. A small cheer rose up as the engine turned once, coughed, and sputtered to life. The three men smiled in satisfaction and went about cleaning up. Taking turns washing off with the bottle of mineral spirits and soap. The crowd dissipated and with cries of "vamanos, lets go" and we hopped on and drove away.