arm, tie rod, tie rod ends—” she emphasized the tie rod ends, he noticed, since that was one of the items she consistently forgot “—brake lines to the disc brakes in front and the drum brakes in back, coil spring, shock absorber, power-steering pump, Pitman arm.” She took a breath. “Make sure there are no leaks in the power-steering box, radiator hose, fuel pump and water pump.” She stood up and slapped her dirty hands against the front of her shorts. “Everything’s okay from the front.”
“Good.” He’d barely been able to keep his mind on the engine parts, so he hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything major. She got down on her hands and knees at the side and started talking again. “All right, here are the transmission lines, and they are not leaking. The cross beams are secure, no cracks or leaks in the mufflers—” she looked back at him “—of which there are two. If you’re to be believed.”
“There are two,” he confirmed.
“It’s just that I’ve never heard of a car having two mufflers,” she said.
“This isn’t a car, it’s a bus, and there are two mufflers on it.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “I’ve just never heard of it.”
“But you’ve seen them,” he said, exasperated. “You’re supposed to be looking at them right now.”
“Well, I am.”
He hesitated. “Grace?”
She looked guilty. “What?”
“Are you looking at them? Are you looking at anything as you identify it, or are you just rattling off a bunch of stuff you memorized?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Does it make a difference?” he repeated incredulously. “Of course it makes a difference!” Grace was hopeless, he decided. There was no way she was going to pass the test unless she was able to charm whoever was administering it. If it was Bob Gaylord or Stan Vanderhof she’d be okay, but if she got Myrna Franz, Grace was in real trouble. “Grace, we’ve spent two weeks going over this damned bus, piece by piece. I know it’s not the most interesting thing you’ll ever do—”
“Luke.”
She spoke so quietly that he stopped.
He looked at her. “What?”
She crooked a finger at him, beckoning him over. “Come here. I’ll show you.”
He went to her and crouched next to her, and tried to ignore the seductive scent of her shampoo…which told him he was too close to her for his own good.
“That,” she said, “is the drive line. We’re checking to make sure the universal joints there—” she identified them correctly “—are secure.” She swept her arm down toward the back tire. “There you have the leaf springs, held on at the spring hanger and secured, as you can see, by a U-bolt. That also holds the rear axle there in place.”
She was right on all counts. He leaned in and looked to make sure. It was hot between them, but he wasn’t sure if it was the engine, the weather or something else.
“That’s the gas tank,” Grace was saying. “That’s the emergency-brake cable, and the oil filter is over there on the right side.” She turned to him, her face just inches from his. The blue of her eyes was so clear he almost felt he could see inside her. “And this—” she gave an ironic smile and pointed at him “—is a guy who is so convinced he’s right about everything and everyone that he’s unwilling to give anything a chance, even when it could be to his own benefit.” She flashed him a devious smile. “How’m I doing?”
He had to hand it to her. Not only had she learned all of the parts of the engine—a feat he had been certain she couldn’t accomplish even in a year—but she had done it in less time than it had taken the last two bus drivers.
Of course, she was wrong about him. He was nothing if not open-minded.
“You’re getting there,” he conceded, with a grudging smile.
A strange moment passed between them. For just a fraction of a moment, Luke thought that maybe he and Grace might someday, somehow, be friends.
But everything that had gone down between them came back to him in a flash. “Friends” seemed unlikely.
Grace’s smile widened. “I’m there, buddy, I’m finished. At least with the outside of the bus and the inside’s a piece of cake. I got everything right and you know it.”
He gave a nod. “I know it.”
“Ha!” She stood up and wiped the dirt off her hands again. “And you hate it,” she said, jabbing a triumphant finger in his direction.
“No, I don’t, Grace, I’m glad. I need you to get this right. I need for you to pass the test.”
She nodded. “I’ll pass.” She swallowed visibly, but kept her chin up in a determined way. “Don’t you worry about that.”
“There you are, Grace, Luke.”
Luke turned to see Fred Bailey making his way across the gravel parking lot. “I’m glad to find you both here. Saves me some time.”
“Hi, Mr. Bailey,” Grace said, sounding like a kid.
“What’s up, Fred?” Luke asked. If Fred Bailey was looking for him, he could be pretty sure it wasn’t to give him a lollipop. Fred only sought him out when there was a problem. Or a woman who needed a job.
The older man took a handkerchief out of his pocket and swabbed his forehead. “Hot as hell out here.”
“It is,” Luke agreed.
“Bet it’s worse in that tin box.” Fred nodded toward the bus.
Grace laughed. “Yeah. It has no air-conditioning.”
Fred seemed genuinely surprised. “No air-conditioning?”
She gestured toward the open bus door. “There’s a fan rigged up to the rearview mirror, but that’s it.”
Luke flashed Grace an impatient look. “There’s nothing wrong with the bus. On hot days, the driver can open the windows and use the fan. It’s just fine in there.”
Grace remained silent.
Fred Bailey looked at her quizzically, then shrugged. “You all know more about these things than I do. Tell you why I’m here.
“It’s about the funding.”
“Maybe I should let you two speak in private,” Grace said, glancing from one to the other.
“No, no. Part of what I have to say concerns you too, Grace.”
She raised her eyebrows. “O-kay…”
“Luke, I’ll get right to the point. Daphne Silvers has decided not to give the school the grant she promised.
