Chapter 47

A/N This first part of the chapter is loosely inspired by the Internet show Roadkill.

July 7, 1912

It was finally a hot day, and luckily for Jack, he had his first day off from his work down at the local marshal's office, while Jesse was at work, so he, Rose, and Karl had the rustic house to themselves. Soon, they heard a car putter in the drive, then stopped in front of the house. Henry stepped in, just as Jack was beginning to sit down at the table with his friends.

"Come with me, kids." Henry motions to the trio, as they make their way to the car. They got into the car, while Henry struggled to spin the engine manually. Jack stepped out, once more helping Mr. Williams turn over the engine. Henry stepped back, relieved he had someone stronger, as Jack turned, with all his might, to turn the crank. Eventually, the car sputtered, nearly coughed, which then finally ran. They both got back into the car, before Henry spoke.

"Jack, I want you to have something of mine. Its down at the shop. I haven't driven it in about two years time. It will really help get you where you need to be going, and of course…" he thumbed back at Rose. Jack smiled, and a little lump formed in his throat. Things were finally looking up for this young man. He got a job at the local marshal's office, doing sketches, helping out with setting up the scene, and possibly doing some police work, all for a whopping $10 a week.

They arrived at the place once more, but this time, they drove around the back of the building. Jack had barely seen this place, as he was distracted by Jesse's beauty. Out here, there was a large, rustic-looking wooden barn, filled with hay. Cows lowed as Henry, Jack, Rose and Karl walked by, to the garage where Jesse was working, but on this day, it was slow. Perfect opportunity for Jack to learn something today. As they arrived, Jesse shoved open another door, revealing a 1908 Ford Model T. It was rusted, for it wasn't driven in two years time. One of the tires appeared to be flat, and looking inside, it had mouse excrement once more. Mr. Williams and his son had it towed to the garage, to surprise Jack. Jack and Jesse opened the hood, to be greeted by a network of spider webs and dirt in the engine bay.

"Ooh. Wow! That's not good! Haven't been under here in a while. We might have some serious troubles here." Jesse says, as he inspects every inch of the car.

"Uh oh. There's our first problem." Jesse grabs a handful of wires, that were chewed through. He grabbed a crank handle from the rear seat, then cranks the engine. Despite the bad wiring, the engine puttered to life.

"That's a first. Listen to that thing. It's not even smoking, which is a first. Let me shut this off, who knows if its got water in here or not." Jesse managed to turn the engine off. Jack looked intently at the car, worried once more at the excrement that littered the floor and seats.

"Do you know if…" Jack wanted to know if the transmission was still in good shape, to which Jesse replied.

"I have no idea. I've never driven this car. There is a strong possibility that we might blow it up just putterin' around," he says, as he uncapped the radiator to take a peek. "That has happened before, when a car was en route to California. Another case we replaced a bad motor, but we warned the owner that he needed to change out the transmission, and before he left our land, it exploded. Well, there's no water in here, so, why don't you do the honors of taking this motor apart, so we can have a peek." Jesse gathered his tools, then laid them down in front of Jack. With Jesse guiding him every step of the way, Jack took apart the engine, as they both inspected the block and flat cylinder head. Everything appeared to be in order, and soon, they had it back together, with Jesse pouring water and alcohol mixture into the radiator, while Jack changed the oil. They got the car ready for its maiden voyage for the first time in two years, around Jesse's small town of Albuquerque, and Jack started it up, while Jesse climbed over the passenger door, which had rusted shut from the neglect, and the dirt had collected in the mechanisms.

"Imagine the dust cloud when this new-fangled thing is back on the road." Jesse says, covering his mouth, as his coworkers did their best at cleaning out the inside.

With gears grinding and clashing, Jack finally puttered the car out of the shop, and Jesse waved at everyone. No sooner than they left the entrance to the property, when, without warning, the Model T suddenly died, in the middle of the dirt road. Passersby in horse buggies, a few cars and even a person on horseback yelled as they had to go around the stranded car and men.

"Whoa! We've stopped. What happened?" Jesse asked, as he twisted himself to get out of the car's opening, as smoke began to fill the car. "I think we might be on fire." he gave a small laugh.

"It just shut off." Jack replied, opening the driver door. They walked to the front of the car, with Jesse holding the crank in hand.

"Smoke." Jesse says, pointing at it with the engine crank handle. "It might be done after all."

Henry stood back, as he watched his son and Jack try to troubleshoot the problem in the middle of a dirt road.

"What happened? Did they catch on fire?" Tom laughed, as Henry shook his head. He wasn't surprised that would happen, even though they could see some smoke billowing from the engine.

"Oh, its done," Jesse says, as he tried to kick the crank handle as hard as he can. "It's all over." he says, voice muffled as he had a handkerchief over his mouth.

He watched as Jesse and Jack try with all their might to turn the engine, to no avail. Eventually, they had to have the car pushed back to the garage, with Tom leading the way with a horse. Jack piloted the dead car, while Jesse hiked back, and occasionally pushing the car.

"What happened?" his father asked, bewildered.

Jesse shrugged. "No clue where that came from. Came without warning, it did. Locked the motor up solid. But Jack did change the oil. Must have been that new stuff that did it." Jesse says, beginning to pant, as Jack's groan echoed in the garage. Jesse stood at the entrance, hands on his hips.

"We can change that engine in one day," he says, as he began to gather some of his tools, some of which he handed to Jack, so he could remove the cover for the engine. With everything disconnected and out of the way, Jesse and another fellow coworker gently removed the engine and tiny transmission from the car, then carefully places it over the stacked dry-rotted tires on the floor. Both Jack and Jesse tore apart the engine from the car once more, before they placed the block on the table, to remove the oil pan.

Once Jesse pried the pan off of the engine, the news wasn't good, as metal pieces began falling out of the engine.

"Ooh. Pieces. That's not supposed to be there." Jesse looks into the engine once more, as his coworker brings in another engine from a car that had been sitting in the garage. With the new engine installed back in the car Jesse and Jack decided it was time they took the car out for a drive. But before they left the shop Mr. Williams appeared, with a piece of paper. It turned out to be registration papers and a license plate, as he turned Jesse around.

"I need your back, son." He begins to write on the document. "I don't know about your state, but here, we have just begun, and they need stuff like this in order to drive around. New-fangled things." He signed his document, then asked Jack for his signature as well. Jack finished, then Henry gave the paper to Jack, then a handshake followed. The transfer of ownership was complete. Jack tearfully looked at the paper, then to Rose, as he and Jesse climbed into the car.

Jesse tapped the canvas of the roof, as he let loose dust that rained down on the men. They coughed lightly, before they got on their way.

"Let's go here." Jesse guides Jack, who was finally learning how to drive his 'new' car for the first time.

"Ooh! Watch that bump!" Jesse braced himself, as they both tried to look through the dust covered glass. Jack braces at the last second when he saw the bump, as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. The first-year 1908 Ford got serious air before violently returning back to earth, and slamming its belly onto the ground, as Jack nearly lost control of his car, while Jesse nearly falls out from the side. The engine soon stopped thereafter as they rolled to a gentle stop.

"Ow. There goes my back once more." Jesse rubs his back, and straightens himself in the seat, while Jack tries to figure out why the car suddenly stopped. The men looked at each other, before Jesse jumped out the passenger window, while Jack struggled to get his door open.

"Did we break something again already?" Jesse asked, as he wandered over to the hump. There was no signs of any damage to report, except the spot where the car landed. Jack looked under his car, and was relieved he didn't damage the oil pan. Jesse dug out the crank handle, as Jack stood to the side. Jesse opened the hood, then removed the oil bath air filter and housing from the engine, and peered into the carburetor. It was completely soaked with the oil from the housing, and the smell of raw fuel followed.

"Crap! We'll need three people for this type of job; one to crank, one to hit the carburetor, and the other to control the fuel. But we'll see what we can do. Hop in, and control the fuel." Jesse took off his jacket, and Jack got into the car. With all his might, Jesse turned the crank, but it kickbacked, nearly taking out his arm. He breathed a sigh of relief, before he tried again. A person walking by noticed, before walking over to the commotion. He immediately recognized Jesse from their boarding school days.

"Need a hand boys?" the man asked, taking out of his mouth whatever he was chewing and throws it aside. Jack was startled, as he turned his head, and watched the man passed by before he disappeared around the car. Jack leaned his head out the see what was going on, then tried to clean the dirty glass to no avail.

"Yeah. Hit that carburetor with this." Jesse handed the man a crude-looking object to use as a blunt object. "Ready, Jack?" Jack gave his best whoop, like he was back on the ship, then slapped at the canvas top. Jesse gave a small laugh, then prepared himself to turn the engine. The engine soon started. There was a mix of communications between the three men.

"NOW!" followed by a tapping sound, and the engine being revved.

"There's a fuel leak. Right there-"

"Don't worry about that. Keep hitting it!" Jesse threw his jacket over the carburetor, as if making a makeshift choke, and quickly withdrew his hand in time before the man hit his hand with the crude tool.

"Little more acceleration! Don't kill it!"

"How high?" Jack asked.

"Little more. Fuel's leaking." Jesse yelled over the noise. He grabbed the object, then proceeded to hit the carb himself.

"You're hitting it too lightly! Hit it like this!" Jesse tapped at the carburetor a little harder, then turned the controls to rev the engine a little more.

"You know, there's controls on the thing-"

"The valves like to stick on this thing, and the fuel would overflow. That's the fuel you're smelling." Behind all the smoke, Fabrizio showed up, with his new boss. They stopped, thinking they were on fire, while Fabrizio jumped from the car. He stopped next to Jack, then showed him how to hold the accelerator lever without moving it. Jesse had removed his jacket, while the engine now idled normally, despite all the smoke billowing from behind. Jesse put the intake back together, then closed the hood, just as the smoke finally subsided.

"Just like a well-oiled machine. Most people would panic at the sight of gasoline pouring out, and starting a little camp fire in their engines, but not me. I've been here before. But at least it runs again. That Mr. Ford did something right." Jesse says, wiping his hands on his now dirty jacket. For many reasons unknown, their car had survived that severe beating, despite being rusted. Not even having a flat or a broken tire, and thankfully, the engine turned over, and ran. Fabrizio proudly proclaimed that he finally got a new job, doing foundation work, and soon, actually building structures. The men high-fived each other, and embraced, while the man that recognized Jesse watched from the sidelines.

From his point of view, he watched as the man with dark, slightly curly hair put his hat on, then waved, to Jesse and at the blond, handsome man inside the car, before he made his way to the car on the dirt road. He turned back to Jesse, who smiled, then waved at the blond man, before he drove off. The blond man pushed his hair back, smiled, then waved, before leaving the men in his dust. Jesse slapped his jacket on his thigh, then pushed his hair back, before meeting the man. The man looked at Jesse, with a stunned expression, then finally catches up.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"About what, George?" Jesse asked, confused.

"Who were those people?"

"They're my friends."

"W-wait. Your-you're friends with those people?" George gestured to where the cars were. Jesse rolled his eyes, then slung his gasoline-soaked jacket over his shoulder, then pushed his hair away from his eyes again. "Those people?! They're out of your reach. C'mon. Tell me! H-hey wait! You're walking too damn fast!" George struggled to catch up with Jesse. With the man still talking and gesturing incessantly, Jesse looked at the ground, at the passing pebbles. It was a comical sight, and to Jesse, sad. He knew George was just trying too hard to impress, despite what he had put him through the final years of his secondary education. He shook his head.

...

They eventually made it back to Jesse's place of business, just as Jack waved excitedly to the men slowly making their way up the drive. His father proudly patted his son's back just as he arrived, then made their way to the front of the store. It had turned out old Mr. Stapleton, who is also a good friend of his father and grandfather's, had sold his blacksmith shop to his father, whom he operated since the late 1870's. They had gone way back, oftentimes looking after Henry like he was his own son, while his father helped in the war of sorts. He also made tools and weapons for the United States Army and the militia at one point.

"Oh, I couldn't do no more." Stapleton gave a hearty laugh, tugging at his suspenders. "I'm gettin' old now. You take good care of 'er."

"We will." Mr. Williams shook hands with an old family friend. Then he gestured. "This is all yours, son." Jesse pursed his lips, then nodded.

Yeah... he thought, and sighed, as he ran his hand through his hair. He knew his father had many properties, including a mine somewhere up north, and a ranch in that area as well. Jesse felt like an heir of sorts. Stapleton looked up at Jesse, and with a twinkle in his eye, he smiled.

"My, my, my. I haven't seen this young man since you was about this high. You lookin' good, son. Your father has told me all about your horse wranglings, automobile work and your education." He then turned back into the shop, and yelled in the already hot, smoky building. A small number of men came out of the shop, then proceeded to shake Mr. Williams' hand, but he gestured them over to his son, who is now their boss. Jesse didn't like that term, as he shook hands with his new employees. While some of the men didn't like the wild idea of a young person bossing them around, a couple were willing to help their young, new boss learn the ways of the forger.

Jesse had taught Jack basic automotive repairs. Now it was his turn, as he was guided by a more experienced forger, from starting the coking to the actual metal shaping process. Together, with his welding, Jesse was slowly taking on a new trade himself, as he took a hammer, and swung it down at the glowing metal, as sparks flew.