The story begins...

I remember it like it was yesterday. Though, it's been over a year ago. It all started on a drive in the country.

I was driving my vintage BMW to visit a long-lost friend, 3 states away. In the process of my drive, I run into problems. I'm clueless when it comes to automobiles, but I liked the looks of my car.

So, here I am. Car is dead on the road. Let’s see, my cell phone is barely getting a signal. What's a guy to do? There's no traffic in the stretch of road I'm stuck on, so I call information and have a tow truck pick us up.

It takes a couple hours, but he arrives, sharp looking truck too! The driver jumps down out of the truck and I'm thinking 'looks nice, about 5' 9" nice tan, good build'. He comes up to me and asks what the problem was. All I can say is "it just quit". I swear I can hear him chuckle, but he looks the car over, and seeing nothing obvious, he begins hooking it up to the truck. We get to talking on the way to town. He's a car enthusiast and gets into the European cars, so we hit it off there.

We end up in a one horse, or in this case, a one traffic light town, and being a Sunday, there is no place open to help out. He finds a garage to drop my car at, and we take care of the paperwork. Since there isn't a hotel within 50 miles of this little town, he asks if I know anyone in the area. The driver, seeing my lost look, asks me if I'd like to stay at his place. He says he has lots of room and it wouldn't be a bother. Weighing my lack of options, I take him up on his offer.

It takes about a half hour to get to his place, it wasn’t what I was expecting, you know the deal, five cars on blocks, washing machine on the porch, etc. But, he had it set up nice. It is an old farmhouse with a good-looking barn in back. Only a couple cars there and they seemed nice. He gives me the nickel tour of the place, and I was impressed. It’s kind of basic, but pleasant.

Once inside, he shows me where I can put my things. I tell the driver, whose name I don’t remember, that I forgot my things in the car. That totally slipped my mind, and his, for that matter. He shows me to my temporary room anyway, saying we can run back to the garage and get my things later.

We get to talking as we settled in the living room, when I finally ask, “What is your name?"

He blushes a bit, and with a chuckle, he says, "Where are my manners? The name's Nigel Scribb".

He already knows my name, from the towing ticket, but you don't. It's Darren Reynolds. I'm 25, 5' 7", and about 190lbs. I've got longer, dark blonde hair. I work as a phone sales rep for a high performance car parts warehouse (ironic, eh?).

Nigel and I talk for a while discussing our lives and jobs. As it ends up, he owns the garage where we dropped my car off. He is interested in my job, how lucky I am dealing with all the hotrod stuff, but I tell him I'm clueless when it comes to actually turning a wrench. I'm envious of his job because he can actually do it. We continue talking when the subject of marital status comes up. It ends up, he's been single for like, ever, and since buying his father’s share of the garage, he hasn't had the time. As for me, I have been single since I was born. I never really had an interest in the opposite sex, and that, I kept hid. Little did I know, the time to tell that secret was approaching.

About that time, my belly makes it's presence known. Hearing this, Nigel goes into a laughing fit. He asks if I had anything to eat yet today.

Remembering the pop-tarts I had on the road about 8 hours ago, I reply "I had a little something this morning.”

We head to the kitchen, where he pulls out some nukeable burritos. We graze for a while and then hop back in the truck to get my things from the car.

We arrive to Nigel’s shop, appropriately named "Just Passing Thru". I go for my stuff while he goes inside. After I load the truck, I go inside to see what the place looks like. It's dark yet as he's in his office checking something. I step into the office letting him know I'm all set and whenever he's ready to bail. Finished there, he shows me the shop. I was thinking 'HOLY SHIT!!' when I saw his tool box, damn thing was bigger than my apartment. Seems he's a fanatic about being orderly as his inventory is put up and easy to get to. Actually, I was impressed with his shop, quite orderly.

We head back to his place and get settled in for the night with some TV and chips, and of course, small talk. It gets late, and we turn in, but before we do, he hands me a set of keys to one of his cars in back, this one happened to be a civic, telling me to stop by the shop in the morning as he will be leaving early in the morning for work. It caught me off guard, but he can't ferry me around when he has a business to run.

It's sometime in the morning as I arose, hunting for my phone, I find that it's later than I figured...... damn time zones. I do my usual S.S.S. routine, and head for the kitchen for something to nibble on before I go to JPT to check on my car.

When I get there, he already has my car inside checking things while his employee is doing god knows what to a customers truck Seeing me, he pulls me towards my car explaining something about my engine, like I said, I knew the terminology, but could never apply it. Nigel mentions something about the timing belt on my particular car, it does serious damage when that belt breaks, that's the problem in my case. He already made some calls on replacement pieces, and to properly repair the car. The estimate, all said and done would be almost $2000.00. I bout fell over when he said that, and he told me that a lot of the European cars do cost a lot to repair. I'm not rich by any means, and 2K is a lot of money. I tell Nigel i'll have to make some calls when I get back to his place, and see what I can get.

I hop back in the civic to Nigel's place to see what I can come up with, money wise.

All my options come up empty, and wonder if I have to leave my car here, cut my losses and take the bus home. My credit cards don't have much left on them, just a few hundred. So, I ponder my fate...........

It's after 6 when Nigel gets home, obviously tired after a long day. I tell him of my lack of luck finding any help and am out of options. What he did next surprised me. He asked how much I can come up with and he says "no problem".

He then goes on, "I have a proposition for ya. You seem to know cars, but aren't mechanically inclined. We're about to change that."

I'm dumbfounded when he said that, and my look must have given me away when he explained what he had in mind. I'll be going to work with him so I can work on my car myself, with his guidance. I'll be doing everything, and since he has a spare bay, I'll be using that so he can still do his business. I'm apprehensive as hell, tearing into my own car, but what else can I do?

Later, we talk about what we are going to do and what is going to happen, now, I'm actually looking forward to it if it means spending more time with him. It's time to turn in finally, and wouldn't you know it? I can't get to sleep!!

Damn, it's morning already! Ok, time for the morning routine, but I have to wait for the bathroom, as Nigel's in there. Finally done, he walks out saying "Better give it a few to clear out" trying not to laugh. Figuring I could brave it out, I held my breath and dove in, bout 10 seconds later, I dove right back out looking at Nigel, with that look that said "I told ya so". After THAT comedy routine, I finish my business and go to the kitchen finding Nigel at the stove cooking something that smelled damn good. Seeing me, he asks if I'd like any coffee. I tell him I hate the stuff, and that water would be fine.

He said, "Good, I don't have coffee or a pot here, can't stand the smell myself."

We settled down to bacon and scrambled eggs when he said "I don't usually cook because it's just me but it is nice to have company around now". After saying that, I got a genuine smile from him.

We get to JPT and get it opened up for the day, and then we head to his office, where he has my estimate for the original repair. It seems over half of that cost is labor, actually doing the job. I'll be saving that and will be getting a break on the cost of parts.  Now, I have to get dirty. He shows me where I’ll be living for the next few days, and then shows me where everything is that I’d need for this job, with one caveat, no air tools. Damn, I wanted to make noise. Nigel explained that I would get a better feel for everything if I did it by hand, air tools can mess things up in a hurry if you’re not careful. I believed him there, then he got me a cart to put all the pieces on, and he stressed, IN ORDER. What I’ll be doing is removing the cylinder head for all the repairs it will need. It seems, when the timing belt breaks, it causes the camshaft not to be in line with the crankshaft. That, in turn, bends all the valves in the head.

Well, it's time to rip and tear, kind of. It’s more like unbolt and unplug. After about 3 hours and a few progress visits from Nigel, I have everything off but the cylinder head. All my small parts are bagged according to where they came off and the big pieces are under the cart. All my parts are waiting to be cleaned, by me. I just have to get that damn head off, thinking to myself 'I'm glad that belt broke'.


With the head off, I now see what he meant about bending valves, all my intake valves look like a candy canes. Nigel carefully inspected the block and pistons and deemed them fine, no damage done there. It's time for a late lunch, and since I was on a roll stripping my engine. “Nige” sent me down to this little burger place that he was raving about earlier in the day. He wasn't kidding. The burgers were the size of my head.

After our consumption of mass quantities, it's time to get back to work.

Looking at my pile of parts, Nigel says "Time to get dirty, again.”

So, I clean my stuff up till it looks new. Time, I have. In the mean time, the machine shop is called to pick my head up and we were told a possible 3 day turnaround on it, depending on parts availability. Good enough for me, I'm on vacation anyway. And thinking back, I couldn't think of a better way to spend it.

When I get done with that, he asks if I want to head back to the house, it's only a couple hours till quitting time, so I stick around and help wherever I can. Quitting time finally arrives, and we close the place down and stroll back to the ranch. I'm starting to like the country, aside from the music, there’s lots of two lane roads to lose yourself in. Good thing Nigel was in front of me, or I would have daydreamed my way to lost. Back at the house, he complimented me on my abilities on the teardown and hoped the assembly would go as smoothly. We won’t find out how much work my cylinder head will need, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, and thinking to myself 'maybe I’ll burn that bridge and stay here'.

We settle down to a movie after dinner. Nige is into some different stuff, I seem to have a lot of the same in my collection. We settled on one I haven't seen before, Van Wilder. Holy cow! I spent more time on the floor laughing than I did on the couch. By watching me have one laughing fit after another, it seemed to set Nigel off on his own laugh-fest.

Work tomorrow, so it's off to bed. It seemed like during the middle of the night, I thought I heard something. I turned my head to the door only to see Nigel looking at me, thinking that I'm still sleeping. I stay on my side with one eye halfway open, watching him, standing there in his boxers, looking at me. A belch escapes me, then I hear a quiet muffled chuckle, and the door closes.


To Be Continued...


About the author: In real life, I am a master mechanic, my toolbox IS as big as some places I've had and I am a car guy. This is my first attempt at writing, mainly because I was dared, and was fed a good line to work from. The thanks to the people who have heard my gibberish for so long, I owe tremendously. To Scribbler, for the inspiration, and the kick in the pants that got this story started and to Dewey and Drake, for much the same reason. To everyone at Dewey’s place, this is for you too! To everyone else I have forgotten to mention, you are not forgotten.

Lugnutz