IICHUCK’S OLD BEATER truck got me right outside the suburban borders of ‘Cagga. Then I finally let it die. That truck I’d gotten started with a new crankcase of oil, new transmission fluid, and a full tank of gas. And I had to touch a few parts under the hood.
It literally became part of me. So it would start up only for me, and no one else could make it run. They’d try. I’d even leave the keys in it and watch them from a diner window sometimes. They’d see me drive in, see the windows down, look inside for the keys and nip in there as quick as they could. But the battery was always dead.
If they tried to tow it for scrap, it wouldn’t come out of gear and the brakes would lock up solid. The funniest time was once was when I was watching them over a third cup of coffee and a second slice o
