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Road to Home, Hope Springs Garage

JeassiahBlack's picture
Submission type:

Jeassiah eyed the car sitting outside of the garage, resting up against one of the fuel pumps and raised an eyebrow. She was told that Tuki dropped off the car but she was not told that this...thing was her ride. In some ways, just even a cursory glance was telling a lot about the car and the outright neglect it seemed to have, and she hesitated a little to go further, but she knew she needed to know everything that was wrong before she could give an honest estimate of what needed to be done and how much it was going to cost to bring up to minimum standards.

"Sam." she spoke softly.


"Get yer friends ta help push this ta bay one. Ah'll be there ta start lookin it over soon `nough."

"Yes ma'am."

Jess shook her head slightly as the young man ran off to collect a few friends and move the heap of the car, defeinately not at ease with being called ma'am, it made her feel old, then turned and walked into the back part fo the garage to head upstair into the attic to change clothes, she fully expected this will be dirty work indeed.

A few hours later, finds Jess standing outside of the garage bays with a half filled bottle of vodka in one hand and a nearly empty tumbler glass of the dink in the other, sipping from it occasionally as she was looking off into the distance, watching the setting sun for once despite the searing headache it always causes her in doing so. At the moment it was a mild distraction from what was going through her mind as she considered ideas, discarding most if them in short order until she only had a few reamining to fully consider.


Joe Spivey's picture

((Awwww... As I was reading I was thinking... Viking funeral, maybe? Or, strip it for parts (actually, probably just 'part') and tell Tuki someone stole it. :)

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

JeassiahBlack's picture

The sun had set by the time jeassiah realised she was out of vodka, but she also had something very difinate in mind as to what to do about the car sitting in the garage bay, well, the latest to arrive that is, the other bay still holding her ancient Camero that was still waiting for some very hard to find parts.

She turned and walked back into the garage, making very sure to carefully put down the glass she'd been using to drink from on one of the work benchs, and just lets the empty vodka bottle drop into a trash basket, then sorta wandered into the back rooms. She took some time to write a few notes and sealed each one into a envelope then adressed them before taking herself upstairs to her little cot and fell into it to sleep off thr drink she'd had this evening, thinking she'll get the messages sent off first thing in the morning...

How ever, she'd forgotten about Sam, and he collected the envelopes, checking the names on all four before taking off to take care of them for his boss before she got up, pleased with himself for thinking ahead.

Joe Spivey's picture

Joe read the letter. Then he read it again. Then he swore under his breath, which prompted stifled smirks from the corner of the office. He glanced in that direction just in time to see four unkempt heads quickly bow back down to the sheets of arithmetic, which were this morning’s lesson.

The letter was from Jeass Black at Hope and from the tone of it she was trying tap him for cash to fix Tuki’s car. He was on the verge of filing it in the waste basket along with the death threats and begging letters that made up a good quarter of his daily post when he had an idea. Gathering dust in the Verde Street lock-up were half a dozen boxes of dodgy car parts that had probably gone from ‘hot’ to ‘warmish’ by now that he wanted rid of to make space for an incoming consignment of assault rifles. By donating them to the Hope Springs Garage he might even gain a few brownie points with Hyle. It was worth a try anyway.

Joe composed a letter explaining that “he was temporarily short of funds just now but please accept this gift in the hope that you can both profit from it and help out Dr. Troy in the process.” He called Finny over and had her deliver the letter to Stumpy Pelham in the bunker bar with instructions to send it and the car parts to Miss Black at the Hope Springs garage.

When Finny had gone, happy to be away from doing endless sums, Joe added a few notes to Jeass’ letter. On his way to the filing cabinet he clipped Worms around the back of the head.

“What have I told you about bringing dead things into class? Put it away… And go and wash yer ‘ands.”

Then he added the annotated letter to the burgeoning file labelled ‘Favours’ before returning to his desk and putting his feet up again, happy in a job well done.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

Hyle scanned the letter and realised it was meant for one other than herself. She pushed the note back in the envelope and added a few simple words to the front;


Sorry, I opened this in error.”


Hyle smiled to herself with a rueful shake of the head as she considered how Jeass had signed off

. “With love and always your slave girl?…. Sheesh…”


She placed the envelope next to Reavy’s things so it would catch her attention next she came home.

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

JeassiahBlack's picture

It was bright and early the next morning that found Jeassiah stumbling out of the attic she was claiming as her own and down stairs to the garage. Once there she had an eyefull of Tuki's car and scowled slightly.
With a sigh, she collected a piece of chalk and got back to work, marking various sections of the car with numbers or small X's.
By the time she was finished with marking as much of the car as she felt was nessisary, Jess went back inside to the attic to collect something she'd ment to set aside and not need again, how ever she felt it was very much needed one last time.

Walking outside of the side door on the garage, she is greeted with a bright cheerful afternoon sun and scowls, mostly from the headache it always inflicts on her immidiately, but has grown somewhat used to by now. Across her left arm, with the breech fully opened was a long heavy looking double barrle shotgun, and held in her right hand were two very long steel jacketed rounds she was about to insert when she paused, the hairs on the back of her neck raising.

Jess looked around slowly until her shaded eyes settled on Lance perched across the street on one of the porch railings of the Bar. She arched an eyebrow as she could tell even from this distance he was eyeballing her from over there, then slams the two rounds into the breech and snapped the heavy weapon closed. Taking her attention away from him, she made her way around the building to the front of the garage and slipped inside out of his immidiate view...then...


Joe Spivey's picture


Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Lance Striker's picture

He hated himself for decorating the porch with his presence, but needs must when the devil vomits into your kettle. Shadow had a good view of the entrance to town and an even better view of the garage he was summoning the courage to brace for a second visit. His reasons had doubled since his first attempt; a poorly judged display of telekinetic showmanship at the last party had seen a glowstick shatter a window on his car - how durable are glowsticks anyway?

On cue, Jess spilled out of the side entrance, her trademark shades hiding any discernible expression. His eyes narrowed at a curious shape slung about her arm, his concentration turned to power - an echo of its shape in his mind. A gun. She started, turning to him and staring for a moment - had she felt that? An unwelcome nostalgia bubbled from within as he saw her load the breech and snap the gun back into a more recognisable profile. She turned and walked off around the building and out of sight.

Relieved, Shadow had managed not to fill his own breech with the finest ingredients of Hershey's Squirts. Still, he was duty bound to see what she was up to; Hyle would probably want to know - or so he reasoned to legitimise his own curiosity. He took a deep breath, walking down the steps of the bar when it happened - a thunderous blast racked his ears and rattled his chest. The day was bright and clear and he wasn't expecting bad weather, so it stood to reason that the noise was definitely not Mike - Hope's newly appointed god of thunder.

He darted back up the steps as reality set in, setting a respectable pace towards the door and into the bar. Tex and a few of the town's more dedicated early-morning liver-skeptics looked at him expectantly.

"Holy ground..." He answered, mostly to himself.

A couple of slurring members of the Clergy of Cirrhosis raised a glass in toast, Tex just shook his head and went back to work. Shadow knew Jess wouldn't step foot in the bar, and for now, that was fine by him.

I'll leave a note, perhaps. When she's asleep...

Lonely are the brave...

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