Work Text:
Trina's voice rang annoyed and at wits end in Marvin's ear over the phone.
“Marvin. We’re both busy here, and it's just 5 blocks down from your building. You can do this one favor for Mendel. Think of all the times he’s helped you out, off the clock.”
“Oh, you mean all the unsolicited therapizing? I don't exactly see that as a favor, Trin. More like licensed harassment.”
“You know he means well. Just pick up the damn truck, Marvin. You could probably use the driving practice anyway. When was the last time you were behind the wheel, before the divorce?”
Marvin felt challenged in a way he did not appreciate, but felt the need to oblige despite the familiar passive-aggressive tone Trina masterfully weaponized. “...Fine. But Jason comes home Friday morning instead of the evening.”
Trina's sigh of defeat was clear, even through the phone. “Okay. Use our son as a bargaining tactic. That's nice.” A short pause on the other end. “...Deal.”
As Marvin walked from work to the auto repair shop nearby where Mendel’s repaired Ford something-or-other was waiting, he tried to remember the last time he had driven. In his and Trina’s relationship, she had more driving experience. While Marvin had lived in the city his whole life and preferred public transportation, Trina had moved from Syracuse with her father and had more experience on the road. So she favored the car.
This was probably a blessing for other people on the road, Marvin supposed. He did have just a slight road rage problem. Slight.
He walked into the lot of the auto shop, and hesitantly approached the small front desk looking area in the garage.
“Hello. I’m here to pick up… a car.” That was truly the only information Marvin knew about the vehicle.
The woman behind the desk stared at him expectantly for more information, which never came. “Name?”
Marvin sighed. “Weisenbachfeld.”
“Right. Wait here. ”BROWN!” She exclaims in the direction of a pickup that was slightly lifted. After a moment, a strong looking arm waves from behind the truck in acknowledgement along with a “YEAH, ONE SEC!” Yelled back.
“He’ll tell you what's up with the Ford.” The woman says without looking up from the papers in front of her.
“Great. Thanks.” Marvin waited a few moments before the man in question finally moved to stand from where he had been working underneath the pickup.
Suddenly, Marvin feels his interest in mechanics peak.
The man, Brown, he supposes, is seemingly 90% legs and broad shoulders, with tan skin and dark gelled hair swooped to the side. He had on dirtied jeans and a red tee with the sleeves cut off. As he walked towards the woman behind the front desk, he kept his eyes on the truck he was just at as if it would all fall apart if he looked away. Finally, without even glancing in Marvin's direction he asks her “What’s up?” In a rushed tone, hands fidgeting, seemingly itching to get back to work. She wordlessly points towards Marvin.
His attention turns towards Marvin and his posture changes, towards something much more open and less distracted, what Marvin can only assume is a customer service-mode.
“Shit, hey, sorry.” He squints at Marvin, as if trying and failing to recognize his face. “He’s here for Weisenbachfeld,” the front-desk-woman says. “Right, yes, Mendel told me he couldn’t come today. Sorry, I’m-” he gestures towards the truck frustratedly and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You can come with me, …?”
“Marvin.”
“Marvin.” He gives Marvin a quick look up and down. Marvin begins to sweat through his stupid, years old Hello, Dolly! T-shirt. He regrets having worn it, favoring comfort since he knew he wouldn’t be doing the weather report on air that day. The man smiles and puts his hand out to shake, then quickly realizes how dirty it is and retracts it. “I’m Whizzer. Come with me.”
Marvin thinks about how he wouldn’t have minded shaking the beautiful man's grease-smudged hand as he follows him towards Mendel's car.
“Since the check engine light was on I checked up on a whole buncha functions that covers, and found the catalytic converter was clogged, So I…”
Marvin did his best to follow along with what the man was explaining, but all the technical words being thrown around were not computing. He was nodding along, but it was all going in one ear and out the other. By the time he came to the conclusion he’d just tell Mendel ‘Car was broken, car fixed’ he realized Whizzer had stopped speaking and was giving him a half-skeptical, half-amused look. “You seem confused.”
Trina had always told him he does a terrible job at keeping his inside thoughts a secret from his face.
“Oh. …Yeah. It’s my ex wife's husband’s car. To be honest, I haven’t even driven a car in almost a decade. Dumbing it down wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Whizzer laughed and tilted his head at Marvin in an almost endeared way.
”A decade?” Marvin nodded, embarrassed.
“That’s a hell of a lot of time. You got some secret tunnels or something?”
“Yeah. I call it the subway. Quaint little thing.”
“Mm. You don’t seem the type to frequent the subway.” Whizzer looked him up and down again, this time slower. His eyes stopped where Marvin's arms were crossed, at his wrist. “Thats an expensive watch.”
“Yup. Got it with all the money I save without a monthly auto payment.” Marvin does his best to maintain the piercing eye contact the man is making, and can feel he might be starting to blush.
“Okay, so you use public transport here. Have you never left the state?”
“My ex-wife’s mother’s beach house in Connecticut. We drove there three years ago.”
“‘We.’ So, you’re a passenger princess.”
He’s definitely blushing now. “I… guess you could call it that.”
The man before him laughs again, a loud brazen laugh. Marvin doesn’t know whether to feel proud or condescended. He realizes he doesn’t really mind either.
Whizzer reluctantly turns back to the car and points to the bottom of it. “Under there was clogged. I made it all better. Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
“Good.”
They stood there for a moment, smiling, the previous awkward energy gone. Marvin wracked his brain for some sort of question to ask to keep the conversation going, when his watch starts beeping. He had set an alarm on it for when he’d have to be bringing the car to Trina and Mendel's parking lot spot without being late back to work.
“So, it's ready to go?”
Marvin wonders if he's hallucinating a disappointed look on Whizzer's face. “Yes. You can head over to the front desk. She’ll give you a receipt of the expenses.”
While Marvin waits at the front desk, Whizzer comes over and takes the paper from the woman. “Sorry, forgot to add something.” He props the receipt up against the wall and adds whatever it was he forgot. Marvin lets himself watch the man's biceps as he writes.
He gives it back to the woman, and jogs back to the pick-up he had been doing work on when Marvin arrived. Goodbye forever, parting is such sweet sorrow, Marvin thinks to himself.
He's handed the receipt and sent on his way. When Marvin gets into the driver's seat and sets the receipt down on the dash, he realizes there was something written in a different handwriting on the back, in a sloppier script.
In case you crash and need assistance, WB
And a phone number underneath, different from the business’s one on the other side.
Marvin figured how quickly he could crash into a building across the street while leaving, how he could manage Mendel having to pay as much as possible, and if this man would come to overhaul him.
…
Overhaul the car, he means.