then the car was puffing steam like a locomotive.
Tom turned the motor off, got out, and tried the door of the gas station. Locked. The cardboard sign stuck to the glass read:
Monday thru Saturday 8am-8pm
Sunday 8am-2pm
Tom checked his watch, and the lines on his forehead grew deeper.
“Hopefully, the engine is just overheated. I’ll give it time to cool down.”
To Margaret he didn’t sound hopeful at all.
He lifted the hood of the car and left it up, the engine still steaming. As he eyed it nervously, he made a feeble attempt at conversation.
“Did you notice what town this is?” he asked.
Margaret shook her head. “I’m not certain it is a town, maybe just a side road?”
Tom nodded apprehensively. “You might be right. Once the car cools down, we can probably make it past Columbus today. We’ll look for a hotel in Dayton.”
Margaret noticed the stressed look on his face and the way he kept checking the car. Three times he’d said the engine was probably just overheated, but he didn’t sound the least bit convincing to her or, apparently, to himself.
“Are we in trouble?” she asked.
He scrubbed his hand across his chin and shrugged. “Not sure. Once the engine is cool enough, I’ll check the radiator and the fan belt.”
“Good thing you know about things like this. If it were me, I’d have to call a mechanic.”
Instead of laughing, Tom pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, reached into the engine, and twisted the radiator cap off. As soon as the burst of steam dissipated, he took a screwdriver from the glove compartment and started poking around. After less than a minute, he stepped back and shook his head.
“Not good. The fan belt’s broken.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Not without a replacement belt.”
For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing except for the general store and two tiny motel cabins directly across the road.
“I doubt they’ve got a belt,” Tom said, “but maybe they can call for a tow truck or put me in touch with the owner of the gas station.”
He started across the road, and Margaret hurried to catch up with him.
“Wait a minute,” she called, “I don’t want to stay here alone. I’ll come with you.”
The inside of the store looked like it had been there since the turn of the century. The shelves were a jumble of items. For a moment, she felt hopeful they’d have the belt Tom needed.
At the far end of the counter, an old man sat watching a ballgame on television. His back faced them, and the sound was cranked up to the max. Despite the bell on the door, it seemed obvious he hadn’t heard them come in. Tom waited for a moment then coughed loudly. When the storekeeper didn’t turn, he circled around the counter, came up behind the old man, and called, “Excuse me!”
The old man jumped up, knocked the chair over, and glared at Tom.
“Scare the life out of me, why don’tcha?”
“Sorry. I tried to get your attention, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
The old man righted the chair. “What is it you want?”
“I’ve got a broken fan belt. My car’s at the station across the way, and I was wondering if you could call a tow truck.”
The old man shook his head. “I could, but Eddie don’t tow on Sunday. Not ever.”
“Isn’t there another towing service?”
“Around here, Eddie’s it. He goes fifty miles out, and nobody else comes over here.”
“What about the guy who owns the gas station, could you call him? I’ll pay whatev—”
“That’d be Eddie.”
“Could you at least call and ask? All I need is a fan belt. If Eddie will open the station and give me the belt, I’ll pay double and put it on myself.”
Again, the old man shook his head. “It’d be a waste of time. On Sunday, Eddie don’t bother answering the phone after two o’clock.”
Tom pulled in a deep breath, then rolled his head and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Any chance you’ve got a fan belt here?”
“There’s a bunch of car stuff on the bottom shelf. I can’t say for sure if there’s a fan belt or not, but you and the missus are welcome to take a look-see.”
“I’m not—” Margaret began, but Tom grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the shelf.
“Don’t get into that now. Just help me look for a fan belt.”
“What does it look like?”
“A rubber loop this wide.” He held up his thumb and forefinger, indicating the size.
After 40 minutes of