The Second Coming

hardware store for blocks and tackle, wrenches, WD-40, plastic pipe and sleeves. Next, Washau Motors for creepers (she would need four, she figured, one for each foot of the Grand Crown).
    It was only after she left the hardware store, coils of rope slung over each shoulder, plastic pipe tied in a surprisingly light bundle, backpack heavy with blocks, pulleys, hooks, and wrenches—she had all the words and got the things without pointing—and walked in the service entrance of Washau Motors, that she realized she had forgotten the most important word of all—no, not forgotten his name, had never had his name, never even thought of him as having a name. She had two names though, creeper and Jerry the parts man.
    A mechanic was moving on a creeper under a car. It was only when he winked at her that she realized she had been watching him or rather watching the action of the creeper with its queer swiveling wheels.
    She frowned and turned away, fell back to reconnoiter. How to get four creepers without the name of the creeper owner? It took a plan. She had one. She had a name, but she needed another. Next to a field of used cars she spied a husky young black man washing a Ford Galaxy on a rack. He wore a Go Wolves sweatshirt. She knew about the Wolves. She came up alongside him. He seemed pleasant and even deferred to her with a small courtesy, turning ever so slightly toward her as if he meant to share with her his hosing down the Galaxy.
    â€œDo you play with the Wolves?”
    â€œYeah,” he said, frowning. She perceived that he had second thoughts about his courtesy and decided to make up for it.
    â€œOffense?”
    He looked at the sky. “Cornerback.”
    â€œAre you going to win State?”
    â€œYou better believe it.”
    â€œI had better?”
    â€œWhat?” he said heavily.
    â€œAre you acting like somebody else?” she asked, eyeing him.
    â€œWhat?” he asked quickly.
    â€œNothing. I hope you win.”
    â€œWhy, thank you.”
    â€œWhat’s the man’s name here? I’m supposed to see him but I can’t remember his name.”
    â€œThe man?” He almost looked at her and almost smiled, trying, she saw, to figure out whether she was talking as she might imagine he talked. “You mean the boss or the owner?”
    â€œThe owner.”
    â€œOh. Mister Barrett.” Did she imagine it or was there a certain affection in his voice? Or was it a smiling indulgence?
    â€œRight. John Barrett.”
    â€œNo no. Will. Mister Will Barrett.”
    â€œWill Barrett.”
    Will Barrett. She repeated it to herself. How did the name go with him? How to take the name? She tried to locate him in the name. Was he a kind of Will Scarlet of the woods?
    â€œWhat do you think of him?” This question, even she knew, was not suitable, but what did she have to lose? She needed to hear others speak of him.
    â€œOf who? Mister Barrett? He nice as can be. He going to send me to Princeton”—he began but suddenly, taking thought, changed his mind and became chesty and huffy—“why you axing me?” His lip stuck out like Ludean’s. “Like I told him, I already got six scholarship offers from the ACL prior to his.”
    Prior. She gazed at him curiously. Why did he flip-flop so fast, from courtesy to huffiness? “Why—” she began and fell silent. On the other hand, if you are curious, why not ask? Is there a law against asking? “Why are you pouting?”
    â€œWhat’s that?” He ducked his head toward her.
    â€œIs it because your hands are cold and this is a poor job compared with a job inside as a mechanic or a salesman?”
    â€œWhat? What you talking about, pouting?” He stared at her, open-mouthed. “Lady, what you talking about?”
    â€œI was just wondering—”
    â€œLady, if you got any questions, ax inside.”
    â€œVery well. Thank you and good luck in the game.”
    â€œSho,” he said, nodding. “Have a nice day.”
    â€œI will. Goodbye.” For some reason people had stopped saying goodbye. Very well.
    Suddenly she noticed something. She could say goodbye! She wasn’t afraid to state her business, say goodbye, and leave! She wasn’t afraid of hurting feelings. No, her desire to please everybody had given way to an immense curiosity. What in the world made people so jumpy?
    Jerry the parts man was sitting behind a counter