Definition of friend
For the second time in just a matter of months, Ryan has come to rescue us with his automotive expertise. Natalie's 'Mint Julep', the first car he fixed up for us, is now our only working vehicle.
My little red truck, Reba, is showing her age. Purchased new in 2005 as a 'gift' for our 23rd anniversary, my trusty little baby is showing her age. Sixteen years and well over 200,000 miles, Reba's days seem numbered.
Today, we could do nothing but watch as Ryan and Landon work to remove the radiator, which seems to have exploded out the bottom and is pouring out fluids. What started out as a, "It'll take about forty minutes to remove" said radiator turned into hours of frustration. Reba was not quite so willing to give up her innards as was hope. Screws and bolts, and whatever else holds in car parts, are seriously 'welded' in place. No amount of yanking and cranking and swearing would convince the metal bits to give up their hold.
Twice, Ryan ended up with a mouthful of radiator fluid from the already drip drained radiator. Definitely not good considering how poisonous that stuff is. She may be old, but Reba is still a feisty little bitch. Thankfully, this was a mid 80 degree day and not the 108 degrees we were sweltering in just days ago.
About an hour into this adventure, Ryan mentions that Brett, the roommate that replaced us when we moved out of Ryan and Amanda's Home for Wayward Souls, has been sitting in his truck. Just sitting and waiting. Curiosity is definitely not gonna kill that cat. Once joining us, Ryan declared Brett would be his 'Heidi' for the rest of the day.
Unfamiliar with this terminology, I researched it's definition. Urban slang, of course.
With Reba bleeding sick red fluid into the carport, there wasn't much for Natalie and I to do. We sat on the warm tar, just watching. After the two hour mark, we decided it was time to work on the food Natalie had offered during her first distress text. Having brought out numerous bottles and glasses of water, we prepared our grand meal.
So, with just under six weeks in our spanking new apartment, we are once again entertaining guests. Not counting the numerous visits for maintenance, this is the third time we have had actual visitors to our home. That is huge for us.
Since leaving Minnesota a decade ago, the number of visitors we have had inside our home has been small. Living in a trailer park for many months meant we talked to many fellow RVers, but none ever came inside.
With bellies full of pizza, chips and soda, the gentlemen head home. The promise to return in just a couple days keeps hope in my heart that Reba will ride, once again. Sitting in my chair, I can see her shiny red metal glimmering just out of the sun.
Parked solemnly right outside, I am reminded of the first night we brought her home. We stopped by at my parent's house to show her off. My father sat in the front passenger side seat and hung a rosary over the rear view mirror.
The thought of having to replace this red truck at some time in the future makes me sad. Being the last vehicle of mine my father ever sat in still keeps him close to me. I can move my father's rosary to whatever new car we might get, but it will never be the same as him hanging it up himself.
