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(
If
it
wasn
’
t
for
Danny
,
I
would
take
great
pleasure
in
grabbing
one
of
those
mallets
,
opening
the
cowling
,
and
just
pounding
until
)
He
let
his
pent
-
up
breath
escape
him
in
a
long
slow
sigh
.
Wendy
was
right
.
Come
hell
,
high
water
,
or
the
welfare
line
,
Wendy
was
right
.
Pounding
this
machine
to
death
would
be
the
height
of
folly
,
no
matter
how
pleasant
an
aspect
that
folly
made
.
It
would
almost
be
tantamount
to
pounding
his
own
son
to
death
.
"
Fucking
Luddite
,
"
he
said
aloud
.
He
went
to
the
back
of
the
machine
and
unscrewed
the
gascap
.
He
found
a
dipstick
on
one
of
the
shelves
that
ran
at
chest
-
height
around
the
walls
and
slipped
it
in
.
The
last
eighth
of
an
inch
came
out
wet
.
Not
very
much
,
but
enough
to
see
if
the
damn
thing
would
run
.
Later
he
could
siphon
more
from
the
Volks
and
the
hotel
truck
.
He
screwed
the
cap
back
on
and
opened
the
cowling
.
No
sparkplugs
,
no
battery
.
He
went
to
the
shelf
again
and
began
to
poke
along
it
,
pushing
aside
screwdrivers
and
adjustable
wrenches
,
a
one
-
lung
carburetor
that
had
been
taken
out
of
an
old
lawnmower
,
plastic
boxes
of
screws
and
nails
and
bolts
of
varying
sizes
.
The
shelf
was
thick
and
dark
with
old
grease
,
and
the
years
’
accumulation
of
dust
had
stuck
to
it
like
fur
.
He
didn
’
t
like
touching
it
.
He
found
a
small
,
oil
-
stained
box
with
the
abbreviation
Skid
.
laconically
marked
on
it
in
pencil
.
He
shook
it
and
something
rattled
inside
.
Plugs
.
He
held
one
of
them
up
to
the
light
,
trying
to
estimate
the
gap
without
hunting
around
for
the
gapping
tool
.
Fuck
it
,
he
thought
resentfully
,
and
dropped
the
plug
back
into
the
box
.
If
the
gap
’
s
wrong
,
that
’
s
just
too
damn
bad
.
Tough
fucking
titty
.
There
was
a
stool
behind
the
door
.
He
dragged
it
over
,
sat
down
,
and
installed
the
four
sparkplugs
,
then
fitted
the
small
rubber
caps
over
each
.
That
done
,
be
let
his
fingers
play
briefly
over
the
magneto
.
They
laughed
when
I
sat
down
at
the
piano
.
Back
to
the
shelves
.
This
time
he
couldn
’
t
find
what
he
wanted
,
a
small
battery
.
A
threeor
four
-
cell
.
There
were
socket
wrenches
,
a
case
filled
with
drills
and
drillbits
,
bags
of
lawn
fertilizer
and
Vigoro
for
the
flower
beds
,
but
no
snowmobile
battery
.
It
didn
’
t
bother
him
in
the
slightest
.
In
fact
,
it
made
him
feel
glad
.
He
was
relieved
.
I
did
my
best
,
Captain
,
but
I
could
not
get
through
.
That
’
s
fine
,
son
.
I
’
m
going
to
put
you
in
for
the
Silver
Star
and
the
Purple
Snowmobile
.
You
’
re
a
credit
to
your
regiment
.
Thank
you
,
sir
.
I
did
try
.
He
began
to
whistle
"
Red
River
Valley
"
uptempo
as
he
poked
along
the
last
two
or
three
feet
of
shelf
.
The
notes
came
out
in
little
puffs
of
white
smoke
.
He
bad
made
a
complete
circuit
of
the
shed
and
the
thing
wasn
’
t
there
.
Maybe
somebody
had
lifted
it
.
Maybe
Watson
had
.
He
laughed
aloud
.
The
old
office
bootleg
trick
.
A
few
paperclips
,
a
couple
of
reams
of
paper
,
nobody
will
miss
this
tablecloth
or
this
Golden
Regal
place
setting
…
and
what
about
this
fine
snowmobile
battery
?
Yes
,
that
might
come
in
handy
.
Toss
it
in
the
sack
.
White
-
collar
crime
,
Baby
.
Everybody
has
sticky
fingers
.
Under
-
the
-
jacket
discount
,
we
used
to
call
it
when
we
were
kids
.
