Monkey Wrench

Varon got up in the morning like he normally does but he didn't have the slightest idea what his day had in store for him. The first thing that happened was a stray cat licked his face to wake him up and he's allergic to cats. His face swelled and he itched all over. Since he sleeps outdoors most times and the road is his home, anything can come up to him and either use him as a chew toy or lick him until he has no skin left.

"Aww man, now I'm gonna puff up like a fish and who knows what's gonna happen." Varon mumbled as he got up from his sleeping bag. "I should have bought that bottle of ammonia. That'll keep anything away," he paused for a moment then raised his eyebrow, "including me." He shuddered at the thought of having to smell that strong chemical and decided to dismiss using it.

After taking care of his morning issues, he tried to start his bike. It whirred then went dead. "Aw, man! Not now!! I can't have a dead battery now!! I'm in the middle of nowhere!" he shouted and grabbed his hair and kicked a rock that was embedded a little too deep into the ground and stubbed his toe. His hands went immediately from his head to his now sore foot. His face was really starting swell and turn red, which is now redder from his embarrassment.

After his foot stopped throbbing, he tried to use his cell phone. That too was dead. "Damn it!!" he screamed and nearly threw the phone into oblivion, but stopped himself, spinning from the momentum of his arm. "This sucks!! Not only can I not go anywhere, I have no fucking phone, I'm getting sicker by the minute and it's all because I HAD to stop here!!"

Thunder was heard in the distance and his shoulders immediately dropped. "Great. I get a shower too," he said flatly. "Well, no sense in dwelling on this. Gotta get moving." He lifted the kickstand on the bike and decided to walk the bike to the nearest underpass and hopes that he find a store or some help along the way.

Thirty minutes into his walk and he's in the midst of a downpour. He was feeling very stuffed in his head from his allergy, the rain making the situation even worse and he fears that he's going to catch his death if he stays out here for much longer. He sees a truck approaching and he tried to flag it down. No such luck. The truck it a puddle and splashed the young rider with the road silt that collected in a pool in a pot hole. Deflated and feeling like he's got no one else to help him but himself, he continued his walk, giving up on any hopes of getting help any time soon.

Two hours passed and the rain hasn't let up. He's soaked to the bone and his tears are mixed in the rain. He thought about all the bad deeds he's done in his life and began to put what he's going through now as his personal crucible. He's still miles from nowhere, dragging his bike and not a single driver stopped to help him along the way. He thought about his selfish behavior and sighed. "Yeah, this is a test. I'm being tested and I'm feeling the pinch," he said to himself.

As he thought to himself about all of his misdeeds, all of his negative misgivings to others and all of his past mistakes, he decided that dwelling on it wasn't the answer. Moving on and getting over them and doing the best he can was the best thing that he can do for himself and for others.

About three hours later, he heard a honking and a van pulled up next to the soaked and tired rider. Varon hasn't rested, nor found a place to rest. "Hey, need a lift?"

"Do I ever!" Varon beamed.

"Here, let's get that bike of yers in the back and hop in," the middle aged man said.

"Thanks, mate!" Varon climbed into the van without question and was thankful to get off his aching feet and out of the rain.

The man opened the back of the van and pulled out a ramp, then rolled up the bike into the back within minutes. He didn't ask for help nor did he ask any questions. Varon looked back to see that the man was having a little trouble getting the ramps back into place. Without hesitation, Varon went to the man's aid to help him get the ramp in. "So tell me, what yer name?" the man asked.

"Varon," came the response.

"Jasper," the older man said as he gripped Varon's hand in a tight shake.

"Good grip," Varon said with a chuckle.

"Yer's too," Jasper responded with a smile. "Is that Spanish? Sounds Spanish to me," the man asked.

Varon just shrugged. "Not really sure. I never asked."

The man fell silent for a few minutes. "Where ya headed?"

"Anywhere," Varon responded quietly as he looked out the window lazily.

Jasper laughed, "Well, yer not gonna git very far with a bum bike. Gotta fix it and I have a shop in the back of my feed store. First thing's first though, we gotta eat. No sense workin' on an empty stomach. I'll letcha stay as long as you need as long as you can do some work for me. Sound like a fair trade?"

Varon looked at Jasper in complete surprise and smiled, "You got yourself a deal, mate!"

Jasper laughed again, "My yer an eager 'un! I hadn't said what kinda work it is yet!"

"I'll do anything as long as I got a place to fix up my bike and place to lay my head," Varon smiled.

An hour later, the van pulled up to a feed store that has seen better days at the edge of a small farming town and the rain finally let up. The two of them opened up the back of the van to pull out the bike first and to take out the rolling tool boxes that were in the back. Varon set to work without being prompted and Jasper had to stop him before he did too much.

"Hold yer horses, pup. You need to eat first. Come on, let's get you inside and into some dry clothes before you get sick."

Before Varon stepped in to eat a meal with this stranger that he felt some sort of connection with, he prayed to God, thanking him for his guardian angel in the form of Jasper.