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Tito drove up North Street and took the exit to Lincoln Boulevard, then northwest until Interstate 10. The wholesale market was just outside Santa Monica, about 20 Kilometers from Ocean Shores, a distance that took about half an hour for the old van to cover. Those box-shaped cars were never intended for high speeds, and with thirty-something years above its wheels, the "green dream" was not precisely a speed demon. They arrived to the market well past its opening time of 5:30 a.m.
Fortunately for Tito, who had to endure Ray's flashbacks all the way from Ocean Shores, he had placed his order in advance with their regular supplier, so it was just a matter of loading the groceries into the van. In minutes almost half a ton of assorted products found its way into Tito's van and by 6:15 a.m. the two friends were leaving the wholesale market, heading for their hometown.
If the empty van took thirty minutes to cover the distance between Ocean Shores and the Santa Monica Wholesale Market, loaded with the week supply of groceries required well over forty. It was some minutes after seven when they abandoned Lincoln Boulevard and entered Ocean Shores.
"It's getting a little late, Tito. I'm supposed to meet with the kids around eight and take them to the parking lot."
"Ah, yes. Had forgotten; the little cuzzes have their match today with Lars and the other juvenile delinquents, right?"
"Yeah; those brats are really in for a lesson today. The kids have been practicing hard; I'm sure it will be a very interesting match."
"Me too, bruddah. Will the little cuz Sammy play too?"
"Well, he said yesterday he didn't want to let Lars get away with his jokes. Besides, the exercise is good for him; his doctor always tells him to take part in every sport he likes because that helps strengthen his lungs. I'm sure that, if he feels well, he will team up with the kids today."
"I'll be glad to se that, bruddah. Don't worry; we are near the California Incline; I'll take it to arrive faster to the Shack. We can unload the van and, while I sort things up at the freezer, you can go for the kids. I'll catch up with you guys in time for the match."
"Yeah! Good thinking, Tito. Let's do it."
Tito turned right and headed for the California Incline. The traffic lights were already working; a red light made Tito stop just at the top of the incline. The two friends had in front of them a magnificent view of the bay and the pier; beyond, the blue Pacific Ocean shone brightly under the yellow morning sky. Somewhere around the middle of the incline stood a white van with the hood open; the same van that had stalled there when still dark.
"Look, Tito! It seems that old Harris has trouble with his engine again."
"It's the second time this week, bruddah. Last Wednesday I saw him just like that outside Mike's shop. That engine is crying for a full tune up; but Harris is such a cheap guy that he doesn't want to buy a set of spark plugs."
"Well, he's in our way. Maybe we can stop by and see if he needs some help."
"All right, bruddah."
The traffic light turned green, and Tito drove carefully down the California Incline. When the "green dream" arrived in front of old Harris' van, Tito stopped and cranked down his window.
"Need any help, cuz?"
"Oh, Hi, Tito, Ray! No, thanks; I can manage."
"Are you sure? That engine seems to be in big trouble…"
"Nah. Old engines need old tricks to keep running, bro. You must know that; you keep that old shell working after all these years."
Tito noticed that old Harris had the distributor cap in one hand and a worn-out piece of sandpaper in the other.
"And what kind of tricks are you using this time, cuz?" – asked Tito, pointing to the sandpaper.
"Oh, this!" – Said old Harris – "Well, you know that points and spark plugs tend to carbonize over time. I just sanded them clean. This way I can keep them working indefinitely."
"It sounds very risky, Harris. It might cause a short circuit and kill your engine for good. Don't you think it would be easier to buy a new set of points and spark plugs, and do a tune up to the engine from time to time?"
"Oh, no! I can't afford that! Don't you know how expensive those parts are, huh?"
"I do. About twenty bucks, tops. Less than a bottle of bourbon" – said Ray with sarcasm.
"Oh... Nevermind; I just finished. Just give me one moment to put this thing back on, and you'll see how this kitten starts purring again."
The two friends looked at each other while old Harris put the distributor cap on. Then, slamming the hood closed, he went back into the cab and tried to start the engine. After a couple of failed attempts, the engine finally started with a bang (literally!), making an ominous black cloud come out of the exhaust.
"You see, folks? It's alive! Well, now I leave you; I'm late. I have to deliver these fish before they stink… more. See ya, fellows!"
Old Harris pressed the clutch and, after a couple of screeching attempts to gear first, he started moving again, leaving a black, oil-smelling cloud behind him.
"That guy is a real character!" – said Tito.
"I agree, brother. And he is a menace, too. One of these days he's gonna cause an accident, with his van in such a poor mechanical condition."
"And he dares call our "green dream" an old shell!"
"Let's go, brother. It's getting late."
Tito geared first and started moving again. Five minutes later, they arrived in front of the Shore Shack and by 7:20 began unloading the "green dream".