Orion Cross My Sky (4 page)

T
ammy returned
to her favorite spot at Clearwater Park on Monday morning and sat by the lake. Lost in thought, she barely noticed her cell phone ringing. Her parents had given it to her when she’d left, and her mother had begged her to keep in touch. So, she knew without looking that it was Mom. No one other than her parents had the number, except Clara, and she was in school right now.

“Hi, Mom. How are you?” Sunlight played off the water, making it glimmer. The last few days had been beautiful, despite the chill in the air that promised cooler weather.

“Hello, dear,” her mother, Nan, intoned. She sounded exhausted.

“Mom, you okay?”

“Well,
I’m
fine. Your father’s not.”

The phrase evoked no emotion in Tammy, who was emotionally disconnected from her father. He was nothing more than a dark shadow in her mind, a whisper in her memory promising pain. But, like the dutiful daughter she was, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You know how he gets tired a lot, the way he was the day you left. Well, he’s been getting dizzy more and more lately. They’re doing some tests, not sure what it is. But the doctors are saying it isn’t dizziness, it’s vertigo, and they don’t know what’s causing it.” Nan sighed, and the sound of clanking dishes came across the line. She was almost always in the kitchen. “Oh, Tammy. Things with your father…they’ve not always been pleasant. But he’s my husband. And all this running back and forth to doctors…oh, dear. I meant to just tell you what was going on, I didn’t mean to vent about it.”

“It’s okay, Mom, you can talk to me.” Tammy balled her fist in her lap.
You can talk to me, but I’m not sure how well I can sympathize
.

“Oh, my. I have to go. Sounds like your father’s up. Tammy, one day, you and I need to talk.” Her voice broke, and she sounded as if she were crying.

“Mom?”

“I have to go.” Her voice was hoarse, edged with heavy sorrow, before the line went dead.

Tammy glanced at the screen of her phone which read
call ended
. She shoved the phone into the pocket of her jacket and rose to her feet, ready to walk home.

First, she had another destination in mind—Pete’s Service Station. Maybe they’d let her peek into the garage if she was lucky. She didn’t expect to be taken seriously since she was a girl.

I won’t know until I give it a shot
.

Her own confidence in attempting it surprised her.

I
t was nearing
lunch time when she approached the garage. All three bay doors were open, with a few cars parked out front. The lot extended to the side, where more cars sat.

Shouting emanated from inside the garage, over the squeal of air tools. Men laughed. As she neared the second open bay, she recognized one of the mechanics. She gasped, then quickly turned to leave. Too late. He’d spotted her.

“Tammy, right? You’re the girl from the coffee shop.”

She froze, her back to him.

“Um.” She turned slowly, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Hi.”

Orion walked up to her, an oil rag in his hand. He wore a blue work shirt that sported the shop’s name,
Pete’s Service Station
. All she could do was stare at his t-shirt. She couldn’t bring herself to look up into his eyes.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ wandering around a garage?”

He tilted his head, a perpetual serious expression painted across his face, which made him appear much older than he really was. Tammy had asked her cousin, and Clara had told her with a suspicious grin that Orion was nineteen. As usual, Clara knew more than she let on. Tammy’s curiosity about him only increased, and she wasn’t sure why. She certainly wouldn’t admit that to Clara.

He stepped closer. “You shy?” he asked, smirking.

“Uh, yeah.”

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What’re you doin’ hangin’ around the garage?” He nodded to the open bays behind him, where another young man was hard at work.

Tammy dug deep and tried to find her courage. Talking to anyone was difficult for her, but talking to a man was something she was frightened of. “I want to learn…about…what you do.”

“What do you mean?” He held up a hand, stilling her for a moment, then called over his shoulder, “Be right there, Danny.”

The guy who looked to be in his mid-twenties waved a greasy hand and replied, “Yup.”

Orion turned back to her. “Are you sayin’ you’re interested in cars?”

“Yeah.
Yes
.” She straightened herself, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Yes, definitely. I want to be a mechanic.”

She realized she’d never spoken with such certainty before, and it frightened her.

“Really?” He stuffed the oil rag into the back pocket of his baggy black work pants. There was an amused glint in his eye, and she began to think he was about to make fun of her.

“I knew it, I just…” She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm gently.

“Knew what?”

“You think it’s stupid. I didn’t know you were here, okay?” The wind tossed her hair across her face, and she didn’t bother to push it away. It hid her from the world, from situations like this. It was her shield. “I knew you’d think it’s stupid that a girl wants to be a mechanic.”

“No, no, I don’t. I toured the nearest automotive tech school a while back. There were a bunch of chicks there. Why do you think that?”

“The look…the look on your face.” She shook her head, finally tugging some of her hair away from her eyes.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He paused as if thinking it over. “I think what you saw was…interest. It’s nice to meet a girl who’s into cars.”

“
Interest?
”

“Yeah. Hey, listen…want me to talk to the boss man, Mr. Johnson, and see if he’ll let you watch us work for a bit? I mean, if you’d be interested…”

“Sure.” Her excitement piqued as the scent of the garage reached her, and she knew she would’ve given anything to sit there and take everything in. “Yes, that would be great!”

He chuckled. “Come on in. I’ll introduce you.”

She followed him into the garage, practically bouncing in her sneakers. She took in work benches, tools, and all manner of things she knew nothing about.

But she wanted to know, more than anything. And she wanted to get her hands dirty. The very idea made her feel as if she’d come home. Her parents’ house wasn’t home; it hadn’t been for years.

This garage, with all its scents and noises.
This
was home. In that instant, nothing had ever been more true.

D
uring the lunch hour
, the majority of Clearwater citizens knew they could drop off cars at Pete’s Service Station, but they’d have to wait before the guys started work. They took thirty minutes for lunch on busy days, but for the most part, they relaxed between twelve and one.

Today felt strange for Orion, because Tammy was there. He went to the back and grabbed his lunch from the fridge, then sat down in the small rest area off the main garage to eat.

Tammy plopped down in a tattered armchair in the corner. All the furniture was secondhand, but comfortable. The ancient wood table with its many scratch marks served as a convenient place to munch on sandwiches and snacks.

“Where’s your boss? Pete, I mean,” Tammy asked.

“He usually eats in his office, or he goes back to his house.” Orion opened his lunch bag and tugged out a turkey sandwich, then a bag of chips and an apple.

He eyed Tammy, who appeared unnerved as Danny walked in, grabbed a bottle of water, and walked out again without a word. He usually went out for lunch, and today, Orion was happy about that. It meant he could be alone with Tammy. “You have any lunch?”

She shook her head. “Nah. I’m not really hungry, but I’ll eat when I go home.”

“Okay.” He took a bite of his sandwich, then washed it down with some water. “What do you think so far?”

“I love it here.” Her smile lit up her blue eyes.

Orion watched her intently. “You might change your mind if you have to go against an ornery customer,” he warned.

She giggled. “I’m not very good with people.”

“I know. I can tell. But you’re warming up to me okay.” He took another sip of his water, then added, “After I lured you in by showing you that scan tool.”

She’d marveled at the computer as they’d sat in a customer’s car and he’d shown her how she could watch what the engine was doing by observing the scan tool as it graphed everything in detail. Pete had watched them from afar, seeming interested in the young girl’s fascination with the garage.

Tammy grinned. “I loved that scan tool.”

“It’s a good one. Very expensive. But Pete’s been doing real well. I’m the newest hire. I’m getting ready to take my first ASE exam.”

“What’s that?”

“It’ll give me a certification in electrical, and it’ll look good to other companies if I decide to leave or move away.”

“You’re thinking of moving?”

“No, not really.” He shrugged. “Not out of the area, anyway. I need to get out of my parents’ house, though. I’m trying to save money for an apartment.”

He caught a glimpse of something in her expression that made him want to get to know her. She averted her eyes, her hair slipping around her face. Her brow crinkled and she took on the façade of someone who had a lot to hide, someone who had a lot of pain. He could see it, and he knew what it looked like because he’d been there, too.

“Are you okay?” He spoke in a soft voice.

“Hmm? Yeah. I’m fine. Can I watch you work some more?”

“Sure. But only if you promise me that you’ll go home and eat a nice big lunch.”

When he winked at her, she blushed. Even her nose turned an endearing shade of pink.

For the rest of the lunch hour, Tammy asked him all kinds of questions relating to engines, transmissions, and all manner of automotive work. She craved information, and even wanted to hear stories about crazy customers. Orion was happy to oblige, telling her about the weirdest people who’d come to the shop, and the strangest things he’d found in their cars.

“You learn a lot about a person by bein’ their mechanic,” he continued, brushing his hands off with a napkin as he finished the last of his sandwich. “And you can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive.”

“How so?” She straightened in the torn-up armchair, her hands folded in her lap.

“One time, I had to go into a customer’s trunk to get to their spare tire, and I found all this lingerie, handcuffs, a vibrator, and a cat-o-nine-tails.”

Tammy’s eyes widened, and that rosy hue returned to her skin. “Oh.”

“I won’t tell ya who that was.” He laughed, then got up to throw his trash away. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was time to return to work. Tammy was still sitting in the chair with a faraway expression on her face. “You comin’? I gotta do a brake job if you’d like to watch.”

“Oh, sure.” She jumped to her feet and started to follow him to the garage.

“Hope I didn’t upset you,” he said, pushing the door open.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that story I just told you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” She shook her head. “No big deal.”

As Orion worked, he couldn’t help but wonder about Tammy, the kind of person she was, and what was going through her mind as he tugged off a rusty rotor and brought it over to the brake lathe. He wanted to get to know her, but he didn’t want to scare her off, either.

And he couldn’t help but fear that his life, his family, everything about him, would eventually make her turn away.

Nobody wanted to be around Orion, he was sure of it. Nobody except Zane, and that might’ve been because he was fucked up, too.

Half the time, I wish I were dead. And who the hell wants to be around a person like that?

S
he ran
her hand over the hood, feeling the grit of dust beneath her fingertips. The sensation of the cold metal was somehow exhilarating, and the decal of the bird below the shaker captivated her attention.

She looked to Orion, open-mouthed. He chuckled.

“It’s the original,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “But when we re-do the paint job, it’ll have to go.”

“Why?” She gasped, not bothering to hide her disappointment. For some reason, she’d immediately fallen in love with the original decal on the hood. It had been there so long, and it seemed wrong to remove it now.

Orion shrugged. “It’s startin’ to wear at the corners, see?” He flicked at it, then turned and sat on the front of the car.

“So, what’ll you do?”

“Have a new one put on.” He watched her as she circled the car.

Tammy felt power radiating from it, and she knew it was the same power she’d picked up on when she heard the engine roaring down Main Street.

She ran her hands along the body, touching every part she could reach, opening the heavy door and sniffing at the inside. The interior of the car needed work, too.

“We’ll re-do everything,” Orion was saying. “We’ve already done a lot.” He straightened, stepping away from the hood. “You can help…if you want.”

“Really?” Tammy had never been so excited before. She wanted to jump into his arms, hug him, thank him for accepting her into his life.

But she didn’t. She just imagined it.

“Of course,” he said, the corner of his lip twitching up.

“What’s its name?” she asked, stepping back.

He leaned into the car, and popped the hood. “The Clearwater Terror,” he replied with a wink.

B
y the time
Tammy finally had something to eat, it was nearly three o’clock. Clara would be out of school soon, and she was working her first four p.m. until closing shift at the library. Tammy didn’t think she could wait until later to tell her cousin about everything that had transpired that day, so she took a walk to Clearwater Public Library.

The scent of binding glue and paper met her nostrils as she entered the main circulation area and found Clara looking pensive at the front desk. There was hardly anyone around, other than a middle-aged man in a striped multi-colored shirt. The hair he had left was dark brown and neatly combed, and he grinned when he saw Tammy.

“Hello! Welcome to the library.”

“Uh, hi…”

Clara appeared excited to see her. “Tammy, this is Mark Simmons. He’s a clerk, too. He’s starting my training since the manager isn’t here, and the director’s already left for the day.”

“She’s a little shy,” Mark joked, adjusting the nametag on his shirt.

Clara reached across the counter and took Tammy’s hand. “But she’s the coolest gal I know.”

“Stop it.” Tammy rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to come see you at work, and tell you about my day.”

“Oh, yeah?” Clara glanced at Mark, who waved with a show of indifference.

“You can chat, don’t worry about it,” he told her. “We’ve been slow for a while now.”

Clara grinned. “So, what’d you do today?”

“I hung out at Pete’s Service Station.”

“Really? That’s awesome. How’s Orion?”

Tammy blanched. “You mean, you
know
he works there?”

“Of course. I know him through some of the kids at school. Not very well, but—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anger coursed through her veins as she gritted her teeth, trying to keep her voice to a whisper.

“Relax, Tam. I told you I knew
of
him. You already said you were interested in checking out the shop, but I didn’t think you would go if you knew Orion worked there.” She shrugged. “Sorry, I guess I just know you real well.”

Tammy deflated against the counter. “You’re right.”

“You want to be a mechanic?” Mark interrupted. “That’s neat. My aunt was a mechanic for years, a diesel mechanic.”

“Wow. I would love to do that.”

“What got you into it?” Mark asked.

“I…I don’t know.” She turned back to Clara, adding, “But I’ll tell you what made me want to do this even more. Orion’s 1979 Trans Am. Remember that engine I heard when we were here over the weekend? It was Orion. Sheriff Ryder pulled him over and gave him a warning about speeding…and an expired registration.”

“No way!” Clara gasped.

“He showed me the car.” At the thought of it, her pulse sped up and she rocked on her heels. “He said I could help him and his friend Zane work on it.”

“That’s awesome, I—”

Mark interrupted their conversation, gesturing toward the young couple who had just walked up to the desk with a stack of DVDs. “Clara, would you like to observe?”

“Sure.” She waved goodbye to Tammy, mouthing, “See you at home!”

Tammy stepped away, then browsed through the books for a moment, before heading downstairs to use the bathroom before she left. On the way out of the restroom, she saw an office she’d never noticed before, tucked away into a shadowed alcove. The door was wide open, bright light flowing out into the dingy hallway with its scratched wood floors, the white-washed walls decorated by cartoonish posters from previous summer reading programs. The gold-plated plaque on the heavy door read
Town Historian
, but no one seemed to be there.

As Tammy turned to leave, she was shoved to the side by a sudden impact, dazed as she realized someone had run right into her. Papers exploded into the air and for a fleeting second, she was reminded of her sixth birthday—just before her father gave up AA—when he’d thrown confetti everywhere and worn a clown’s red nose to make her laugh. Now Tammy was crimson, and this time with embarrassment.

“I-I-I’m so sorry!” After the collision, she stumbled back and came face to face with a thin woman in jeans, motorcycle boots, and a leather jacket. She bent to help her collect the papers, which were strewn everywhere. “I’m so sorry, so sorry!”

“It’s okay. I’m always doing stuff like that.” The woman’s voice was nasal, and she had an English accent. She scooped up the majority of the papers, and Tammy handed her the rest. She huffed, leaning to one side as she tucked the stack against her and nodded toward the open office door. “Wanna come in?”

“In there? The historian’s office?”

“Yeah, sure. Have a seat.” She tugged Tammy by the arm and urged her into a soft, blue-cushioned office chair. “You look a little off-kilter. I’ve been told running into me is like slamming into an articulated lorry.”

“Artic...” Tammy paused. “What?” She did feel a little dizzy as she leaned back in the chair, taking in the pale yellow walls and the framed photos and newspaper articles.

“Right, sorry! Been in the states ten years now, but I fly back and forth, tend to confuse people. That’s an
eighteen-wheeler
, I mean.”

“Oh,” Tammy mumbled, resting her hands on her thighs. “You run into people often?”

“No, not really.” She laughed musically. “Well, every now and then. Mum always said I was a klutz.”

For the first time, Tammy got a good look at the woman. She was probably in her early thirties, and her short dark hair was cut in a cute, rounded style that framed her narrow face, making her look a bit elfish. Her dark eyes were wide and filled with energy, and she moved her nimble fingers expertly as she paged through folders in a filing cabinet, tucking away the papers that had gone everywhere in the hallway.

“By the way,” she said, glancing up, “I’m Alex.” She finished filing and sat at the desk opposite Tammy, crossing one leg over the other.

“I’m Tammy.”

“Nice to meet you, then. Feel okay after all that? I’m really, really sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.” She fiddled with her thumbs, nervous. “I should’ve looked.”

“Are you interested in local history?” Alex’s eyes glimmered.

“Um.” It occurred to her the town historian might think she was looking for her because she’d been outside the office. It took every ounce of courage within her to admit the truth. “I was just going to the bathroom.”

Alex sank into her black leather chair, sighing. The desk behind her was flush against the wall, so there was nothing between them. Nothing to hide the woman’s obvious discontent. “It’s all right. You know how many times I pop out of this office to see if someone needs information, or is just plain curious, only to hear them say ‘I was going to the bathroom’?”

Tammy shook her head slowly.

“Well, it happens all the time. It’s not easy getting people interested in local history, especially when my office is buried in the back here. I’ve been mistaken for the library director a couple of times.” She gestured toward the plaque on the open door. “No one ever reads that.”

“So, you’re having trouble getting people interested?” Tammy glanced around, seeing a number of remarkable black and white photos on the walls. “I don’t know much about Clearwater history, but it’s such a nice little town. I don’t get why people
wouldn’t
be interested.”

“Well, the old folks are interested, but that’s because they
are
history.” Alex laughed again, and the timbre of it caused Tammy to suspect she was a smoker. “I’m just joking, though. The people around here are really nice. It’s just that nowadays, people are interested in the next great technology, they’re interested in the future. They’re not interested in the dusty old newspapers I’ve got in here, or the rest of the archives we have in the library.”

“I’m interested,” Tammy said, and she meant it. There wasn’t much she wasn’t interested in. She craved knowledge, anything at all, and she was sitting in a treasure trove of information. Not just the library, but the history archives. She wondered how anyone could ignore something so grand, and she said as much to Alex.

The unlikely town historian beamed. “You know, I could use some help around here, what with Heritage Day coming up. Would you like to be my assistant?”

She found herself saying yes. When she walked home shortly thereafter, she marveled over how far she’d come. In the short time she and Clara had been living together, she’d slowly been trying to acclimate herself. Every moment caused her discomfort, but despite her unwillingness to meet people or make friends, she’d met Orion and now Alex.

Maybe she could handle this. If only the nightmares would stop.