“Well, she’s a little loose, but not bad.”
“Well, how is she for wore?”
“Got plenty shim. Ain’t been all took up. Yeah, she’s O.K. Turn her over easy now. Get her down, easy—there! Run over the truck an’ get some tools.”
The one-eyed man said, “I’ll get you a box a tools.” He shuffled off among the rusty cars and in a moment he came back with a tin box of tools. Tom dug out a socket wrench and handed it to Al.
“You take her off. Don’ lose no shims an’ don’ let the bolts get away, an’ keep track a the cotter-pins. Hurry up. The light’s gettin’ dim.”
Al crawled under the car. “We oughta get us a set a socket wrenches,” he called. “Can’t get in no place with a monkey wrench.”
“Yell out if you want a hand,” Tom said.
The one-eyed man stood helplessly by. “I’ll help ya if ya want,” he said. “Know what that son-of-a-bitch done? He come by an’ he got on white pants. An’ he says, ’Come on, le’s go out to my yacht.’ By God, I’ll whang him some day!” He breathed heavily. “I ain’t been out with a woman sence I los’ my eye. An’ he says stuff like that.” And big tears cut channels in the dirt beside his nose.
Tom said impatiently, “Whyn’t you roll on? Got no guards to keep ya here.”
“Yeah, that’s easy to say. Ain’t so easy to get a job—not for a one-eye’ man.”