James Hutchins (0roborus) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-10-27 21:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | james hutchins, tal rainey |
New Management
Who: James, Tal
What: A proposition
When: Present, Daytime
Where: Searchlight, Hutchins Auto
Warnings: Low/None
James came in through the back door of the shop, the one that opened into his office. Afternoon sun slanted across one slate-blue wall, making it a few shades lighter than the others. He dropped a couple of pieces of mail on the desk and flipped through the paper receipts on their pin: inspections, oil changes, brake service, new tires, a few bulb replacements. A typical day. He shut the door behind himself and traced his finger along the edge of the door frame, feeling for the familiar wards he’d cut around it. He had gotten in the habit of rechecking it recently, along with nudging up the corner of the old rug in front of his desk to make sure the symbol was still on the floor. Everything was like he remembered it.
The magic user tossed his sunglasses and went down the hallway towards the service area, mussing his hair. He could hear the sound of another mechanic in the shop, and light noise coming from Main Street. One of the bays was open. “Hey, Tal,” he called.
Tal could be considered a workaholic or just an enthusiast when it came to working on vehicles. Learning every little bit of the engine, electrical, he liked to solve the issues - finding the tiny bit that someone could have missed, hearing a well-working engine. They were puzzles that kept him busy and content most days. Hearing James’ voice, he eased out from under the hood of a ‘67 Chevelle and wiped his face with one of his cerulean blue work towels.
“Hey James,” he replied and emerged from the bay.
“Nice car.” James tried to figure out if he’d seen it before. “A woman named Echo hasn’t stopped by, has she? Brown hair, freckles, kind of a serious face?” He was expecting a text before the shapeshifter came in, but the way dead zones were in the desert, he could have missed it on his trip back from Vegas. He approached the car and leaned into the open window of the driver’s side door, looking over the instrument panel, the wide steering wheel and the gear shift. He didn’t think he’d been in it before.
James straightened up and wandered around the rear bumper. Somebody had taken good care of it in the desert.
“No, no she hasn’t. It’s been quiet except for this car.” Tal nodded. It was a delight to have a customer come in with this classic car. It must have been kept in an air-tight storage facility or garage. He didn’t pry as to the particulars, just went to work on a pesky little timing issue.
“This one was a surprise, a good one. Someone out joy-riding a beautiful thing like this and found an issue. I haven’t heard about any car shows in L.V., but who knows.”
“Yeah maybe.” James leaned against a wall and crossed his arms and ankles, thinking about the more unusual cars that found their way into the shop. Some were classics, some were rust buckets, some American-made and some foreign. As small and tight of an operation as they ran, they had repeat customers from all over the county, especially people who trusted them not to blab about odd contents or stains, or take pictures if they ran across a hidden compartment. “Hey.” James lifted his chin. “What’s the strangest thing you ever found in a car? When you weren’t looking for it.”
Each car was a job and a puzzle that ranged from simple to difficult. Tal was up for it. It was good to see a variety of cars, but also the repeat customers. “Hmm?” He hummed as he wiped his hands a little more. “A small suitcase of dolls...no, a cigar box with a zipped off bag that looked like ashes.” Tal frowned, one nostril curling in pure ‘weirded-out’ expression.
“I found a coin purse made out of human skin.” James shook his head, the scratch at the nape of his neck a mimic of what he’d done when he turned up that piece of paraphernalia in the trunk of an expensive sedan. “Clearly a grudge piece. It was not an antique.” He paused as he thought about the driver of the vehicle; it was a sixty year old woman.
“Wow,” Tal grimaced a little and shook his head. “Clearly. I suppose it’s best not to get curious about these things. But we both probably know the most usual stuff we’ve found.” He added, not making it a point to be in more than just the front of the car and the driver’s seat when need be.
“I try not to ask many questions.” James set his feet flat on the floor. There was grit under his left boot. He went to grab a shop broom to clean it up. As he worked the broom across the floor in tightly spaced rows and shook the dust off the bristles in a pile, he thought about whether it was the right time to bring this up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. I took over management of my dad’s shop in Vegas. He’s still working part-time. Celeste’s working, too, but I’m going to have to pull more hours.”
He stopped there to gauge Tal’s initial reaction to the information before going any further into it.
“Neither do I.” He nodded and gently draped the towel on his work table beside the car. “Really?” Tal blinked and took a step closer, but still kept a distance. James was one of the few people these days that he trusts the most. It had to be earned and it was. “That’s good, yes?” He offered with a soft grin.
James mentally replayed how it had come to pass. After years of cajoling, Sam had resigned himself to the fact that his son would never take over Curiosities. Then, just after he’d gone and convinced himself it was a good thing, James walked in and threatened Sam into handing over the keys.
“Ah, yeah,” he said. He blinked, leaning the broom against the wall to look for a dust pan. “Long time coming. Anyway, I haven’t figured out how to be in two places at once. I was gonna ask you how you’d feel about managing the shop when I’m in Vegas. I’d move some money around to give you a raise.” He knelt on the floor and swept the dirt onto the pan, then walked it to the trash can.
“I would be agreeable to that, James.” Tal nodded. This sort of responsibility was something he had hoped for. He was happy here in this shop. Searchlight was quiet, and one could learn most of the residents’ names. Definitely a good setup.
“Great.” James set down the dustpan and brushed off his hands. Tal was a great mechanic, one he didn’t want to lose. Not everybody wanted to spend more time on the managerial aspects of running a shop if it took them away from the cars. James had gone to school for it because he’d wanted freedom when he was in his twenties. He wanted his own thing that had nothing to do with his father, and he was good at it. Machinery made sense to him and it calmed him down. It gave him something to do with his hands when he was out of sorts and magic was too dangerous. But he didn’t live and breathe it like Tal did.
“We can set up a time to go over everything. I’ll tell the part-timers.” James looked out the front of the shop as a car went by, on its way south towards the truck stop. He left for a second to get a couple of cold drinks from the kitchenette, then returned and passed one to Tal. “How’s everything else?”
Tal had worked hard the last twenty years - getting his GED, learning and training any place he could on what he liked. There were elements of control and also leeway. He had nothing but anger and disdain for the family that locked him in the basement, kept him there for two years, and then simply moved away. Tal was his own person - learning to trust people again and pursuing his own life. Being a mechanic made sense and was something he was good at. With a job, career set, Tal could think about developing the rest of his life sooner or later.
“Definitely,” he replied and then watched where James looked. Then he turned off his shop light before stepping over when James returned. “Thanks,” he nodded as he took the offered drink. “It’s...okay. Still considering more than being a long-term resident of El Rey.”
“Yeah, it’s… pretty rough.” James cracked open the can. “I never stayed there until I met Celeste. God, that bed.” He rubbed his forehead. He didn’t know how she survived it for the last few months, forget about the years some people put in at the motel, waiting for rental property to come available, an RV or a houseboat down at the Cove, or maybe just asking themselves if they wanted to settle in Searchlight. “You should find something. This town’s got its hooks in you, I can tell.”
Sleeping in the cab of Tal’s truck was out of the question and it would probably look bad to sleep inside the shop. “It can be,” he nodded as he had tried the bed and bought a good air mattress. “Perhaps. I have a place in L.V., but the drive back and forth is a bit much to do every day. Do you know of any place that is open concept?” Tal shrugged. The more open space the better - that was why he loved his small warehouse in L.V. - the walls were far away and he could leave windows and skylights open without having anything trigger a panic attack due to his claustrophobia.
He knew the drive well. James shook his head. “That’s tough out here. Nothing but trailers and houseboats unless you want to build.” He took a sip of his drink. His place was behind the shop. When he first came out from Las Vegas, it might have been an adjustment if he hadn’t spent so much time on his bike in the years prior, crashing wherever and whenever he felt like it. He sympathized with Tal. At least he’d never get claustrophobic when he walked outside.
“Trailers seem like boxes to me.” Tal shook his head as he opened up his beverage and took a sip. He liked Searchlight for how small it was and the calmer nature than L.V. But the housing was a disadvantage. He would be fine with living in a large tent. Building his own place sounded nice. But he could handle his room at El Rey - taking loads of walks and leaving the window cracked for airflow.
“Everybody has a deal breaker,” James said. “For me it’s the suburbs.” The idea of living in a planned neighborhood, one house the same as the next, rules about what he could and couldn’t do with his property, a lawn to maintain in perfect order, with an HOA playing oppressive regime, was a nonstarter. He set his can on a flat surface and meandered towards the front of the building, where the hot, dry air stirred his hair. Half the grit in the shop blew in from the parking lot on days like this.
“You getting out at all?” James leaned in the doorframe. He knew Tal was a workaholic.
Tal wrinkled his nose. “I know what you mean there. I prefer the more open, unplanned sort of areas.” He would never live in a packed, regulated neighborhood. No more compact, families touching elbows sort of places. He’d stick around here. The lighter-haired man followed James, a few steps behind and away.
“A bit here and there. When I’m in L.V. Going to a bar or the like and crashing at my place just outside of the city limits.” Tal wouldn’t deny he was a workaholic. But he was always open to doing other things, being around a few people. He needed friends, yet it took time.
James nodded, slouching his weight against the wall. “I haven’t been to a bar in Las Vegas in…” He frowned, trying to remember the last time. “Four or five months? Maybe more.” There were a couple of old haunts, hole-in-the-wall bars with billiards and live music, full of faces he knew from before he’d settled down in Searchlight. People who slapped him on the back and asked a lot of questions when they saw him, tried to talk him into getting into shit he didn’t want any part of now. James looked towards the north end of Main Street. A dragonfly flew past and nudged his upper arm, near a tattoo of an ancient symbol representing a gateway. James held still and watched it dive and hover in the air.
“Maybe now you’ll have some time,” Tal smiled and sipped his drink. He himself was quite the lone drinker - opting out of being around the crowds. But he did play a game of billiards now and again. He could cheat at it, but where was the fun in that? He stilled as he saw the dragonfly, liking to see something so delicate fly. He often watched birds, butterflies when he was taking walks to help ease any hints of anxiety over being in his small room at El Rey.
“Nah, I doubt it,” James said. “I’ll still be pulling some shifts here, just more at Curiosities.” The insect flew away, up high over the roof. His forefinger tapped the side of the aluminum can. It might not be a bad idea to put in an appearance in some of those places, though, if for no other reason than he could listen in on the chatter. He wasn’t the only supernatural type who frequented a Vegas dive. “Big weekend coming up. Something always kicks up dust around Samhain, and this one’s a full moon.” He looked into the opening of the can, thinking of his own plans.
Nodding, Tal sighed as he stepped closer to the open door and James. He loved seeing the sky, watching the colors as the sun rose and set. “Oh yeah. It sounds busy. I don’t think I’ll venture too far then. I’m almost done with the Chevelle.” He spoke. There wasn’t much on his schedule. He really needed to learn to trust people a bit quicker. Maybe.
“I dunno,” James said, looking at the afternoon clouds. “I’m not the poster child for social skills, but I think you’re overdue. Cars don’t talk back, Tal.” He smiled and tossed the can in a recycling barrel. “If there’s something happening in the city, you should go,” he added. “You never know what might crawl up out of the ground out here.”
Tal frowned and kept his eyes on the sky. “Well, they do sometimes.” He wrinkled his nose and finished off his drink. “Maybe.” Then he smirked. “What? Do you talk to animals?” Tal wanted to get out, but who was out there?
“That’s a loaded question.” James smiled. The last time he talked to an animal, his index finger was drawing in the blood on its undead carcass. Not a topic he cared to revisit. “I don’t have a dog. Do shapeshifters count?”
“Maybe….when they’re in their animal form. Stuff crawling out of the ground…” Tal spoke, rolling his shoulders out of discomfort. “Maybe I’ll see if there are any parties or gatherings for Halloween or Samhain.” He dropped his can in the recycle bin and loosely crossed his arms over his chest.
“I think I saw something in the paper.” James pushed away from the wall and went into the lobby, in search of the local newspaper that got delivered from the city. He kept the subscription for customers, Searchlight’s population tending towards an older crowd that still liked a hard copy. He found the paper under a couple of magazines and some junk mail, took the invite card out of the fold of the center page, and brought it back out for Tal. “It’s at Lux. Here.” James handed it to him.
He usually looked at the newspaper when it arrived each morning, but maybe he missed today’s issue. Tal took the invitation as James returned with it. “Thank you.” Looking over the invite, he raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I’ve heard of this place, but I don’t think I’ve been there. Have you been there?” Tal trusted James more than most and the warlock was much more respectable than many people in his past.
“No,” James admitted, “But I think it’s supposed to operate on some kind of magic.” It might be why the invite was in their paper. He had a hard time imagining Randy, permanent resident of the last stool at Lucky’s, getting the same mailer. “After you go, you can report back.” James tossed a smile at Tal as he went into the shade of the shop. “I’ve got plans.”
“Oh, okay,” Tal nodded as he looked up from the invite to James. Then he smirked. “I hope your plans are good. I think I have a costume lined out. I may have to hunt for one item.” The idea of a costume party sounded fun. Perhaps after a drink, he’d feel like talking to more people there. Magic was fascinating and scary, but Tal was curious.
“I don’t do costumes,” James said, retreating. “Never have. So if anybody ever tags me in an old photo of an eight-year-old in a Merlin outfit, it’s a fake.” He passed into the hallway that led to the office. “I’ll catch up with you later. I need to get some paperwork done.”
“See you later.” Tal breathed, retreating from his outgoing demeanor to that of his serious workaholic mechanic. He turned and went back to the car he was working on, setting it on a shelf out of the way.