The Man Who Had All the Luck (7 page)

HESTER [
she goes to him, takes his face in her hands, and kisses him
]: You didn't kiss me yet.

DAVID [
with growing ill-ease
]: Please, Hess, I gotta figure something out here. I wish . . . I wish you'd leave me alone for a while. Please.

HESTER [
with quiet astonishment—and compassion
]: Haven't you figured it out yet?

DAVID: Oh, I got it just about, but not . . . [
Stops.
] Hess, please leave me alone. DAVID
walks from her and pretends to study the engine.

HESTER: Davey.

DAVID: Ya?

HESTER: You're
going
to be able to fix it, aren't you?

DAVID: Don't you think I can?

HESTER: I know you can.

DAVID: Then why do you ask me?

HESTER: Because . . . in the Burley garage they didn't know how to fix it.

DAVID [
he straightens. Slight pause
]: How do you know?

HESTER: J.B. told me. He's going to tell you in the morning after you're finished. He didn't want to scare you about it.

DAVID [
with growing fear
]: That can't be. They got regular trained mechanics in the Burley garage.

HESTER: But it's true. Mr. Dibble said they wanted to take the whole thing apart and charge him a hundred and fifty dollars, and he wouldn't let them because . . .

DAVID [
comes to her anxiously
]: Why'd they want to take the whole thing apart?

HESTER [
seeing his bewilderment clearer
]: Well, I don't know, Davey . . .

DAVID: Well, what'd they tell him was wrong? Don't you remember . . . ?

HESTER [
her sob threatening
]: Well, Davey, don't shout at me that way, I don't know anything about cars . . . [
She begins to cry.
]

DAVID [
with the pain of guilt
]: Oh, Hester, don't cry, please. I'll fix it, I'll find out what the matter is, please, stop it, will you?
The pain it causes him makes him turn and almost march to the car. On the point of weeping himself.

I never
heard
an engine make that sound. I took the pan off, I took the head off, I looked at the valves; I just don't know what it is, Hess! It's turning off-center somewhere and I can't find it, I can't!

HESTER [
her sobbing vanishes as she senses his loss
]: That's all right, Davey, it'll be all right. Maybe you better go to bed. You look so tired . . . It really doesn't matter so much.

DAVID [
she growing taller upon his guilt.
]: Gosh, Hess . . . there never was a girl like you. [
He goes to her and kisses her.
] I swear there never was.

HESTER: Don't ever try for anything I want, if it worries you too much to get it, Davey.

DAVID [
he kisses her cheek. With swift resolution
]: You go home and go to bed. I'll find out what's the matter. I'll do it! You go.

HESTER: All right, Davey, 'cause J.B. was telling Mr. Dibble such great things about you. . . . He's got a marvelous thing to tell you in the morning.

DAVID: What?

HESTER: I can't tell you till you finish . . .

DAVID: Please, Hess, what'd he say?

HESTER: No, fix it first. [
Pause.
] J.B. wants to tell you himself. He made me promise. Goodnight.

DAVID: Goodnight, Hess.

HESTER [
going and waving
]: And don't worry . . . about anything, okay?

DAVID: . . . I won't.

God damn!

The sound of a man walking into the shop rather slowly from offstage right is heard.
DAVID
turns toward the sound and stands still watching.
GUSTAV EBERSON
enters. He is a strong man, his suit is pressed but too small for him. He wears a white shirt. A plain brown overcoat. He is smiling warmly, but with the self-effacing manner of an intruder.
DAVID
says nothing as he approaches.

GUS [
a slight German accent
]: Excuse me, are you Mr. Beeves?

DAVID: Yeh. [
Slight pause.
]

GUS: My name is Eberson . . . Gus Eberson . . . [
With an apologetic nod and smile.
] Are you very busy? I could of course come back. Four o'clock in the morning is not the best time to visit.

DAVID: I'm busy . . . but what can I do for you?

GUS: I moved into town last night. And I couldn't wait to see my first morning. I noticed your light. I thought we ought to know each other.

DAVID [
taken
]: I'm glad to know you. I was almost hoping you were a hold-up man and you'd knock me unconscious.

GUS: I didn't mean to walk in so invisibly; I am opening a repair garage on the other end of the avenue.

DAVID: Repair garage? You mean to repair cars?

GUS [
earnestly, worriedly
]: I want to assure you, Mr. Beeves, that if I didn't think there is plenty of business here for both of us I would never set up a place in this town.

DAVID [
a faint tightness cramps his voice
]: Oh, there's plenty of business for two here. Plenty! Where is your shop?

GUS: Over there on Poplar Street, right next to the grocery store. DAVID: Oh, that place. Gosh, nobody's been in that building for years. We used to say it was haunted.

GUS: Maybe it is! [
Laughs lightly at himself
.] I have very little machinery. As a matter of fact . . . [
Quite happily.
] . . . I have very little money too. So possibly I will not be troubling you very long.

DAVID [
with emphatic assurance
]: Oh, you'll make out all right. [
Vaguely indicates the shop.
] There's nothing to it. You come from around here?

GUS: No, I was with the Ford's Company, the River Rouge plant for several years. This last year and four months I was by the Hudson Motor people.

DAVID [
breathlessly
]: Well . . . I guess you oughta know your stuff.

GUS [
sensing . . . extra hearty, therefore
]: What is there to know? You are probably much better than I am!

DAVID: No, that's all right, I just meant . . .

GUS: I am not in the world to become rich. I was doing very well in Detroit.

DAVID: Then why'd you come here?

GUS: It is my nature. I cannot get used, I shall run, run, run, I shall work, work, work, all the time rushing. To tell you the truth, I was five years with Ford's and not one good friend did I have. Here, I hope, it will be more conducive to such activities as I always enjoy. A small town and so forth. I am Austrian, you understand. . . . Meanwhile I hope you will not object too strongly of my arrival?

DAVID [
entranced
]: Hell no. Lots of luck to you! I got no right to object. [
Extends his hand jerkily.
]

GUS [
shakes hands
]: Rights is not the question. I want to be welcome. Otherwise I will . . .

DAVID [
softly;
GUS
holds onto his hand
]: No. . . . You're welcome here. . . . You are.

GUS: Thank you. . . . Thank you.

Laughs softly, thankfully. Their hands part.
GUS
turns a slow full circle looking at the shop.
DAVID
watches him like a vision. At last the Austrian faces him again. Quietly.

How old are you?

DAVID: Goin' on twenty-two.

GUS [
indicating the car, the shop . . . everything
]: How . . . how did you know what to do? You studied somewhere mechanics?

DAVID [
with pride and yet uneasiness. The Austrian has grown very tall in his eyes
]: Oh no—I just picked it up kinda. [
Wanders near the Marmon as though to hide it.
] But I guess I got plenty to learn.

GUS: No, no! The best mechanics is made in this fashion. You must not feel at all . . . how shall I say . . . at a loss.

Pause. They hold each other's gaze in a moment of understanding. Slowly the Austrian's eyes turn toward the Marmon.
DAVID
, as though relinquishing it, moves aside now, not screening it any longer.

What's his trouble?

DAVID [
still entranced, and yet he must laugh as he confesses
]: You got me there. I've been at it all night . . .

GUS [
sauntering easily to the car
]: Oh? What he complains of?

DAVID [
for a moment he holds back; then the last shred of resentment fades and he bursts out
]: She runs with a peculiar kind of a shudder . . . like a rubbing somewhere inside.

GUS: She misfires?

DAVID: That's what's so funny. She fires on eight and the carburetor's set right on the button.

Pause.
GUS
looks down at the engine.
DAVID
is bent over watching his face.

GUS: If you . . . feel like it, you can start the engine.

DAVID [
looks at him in silence
]: You . . . you know what it is?

GUS [
reaches to him quickly
]: Look, boy, tell me and I will leave the town, I'll never come back.

DAVID: No, no . . . I want it to be . . . just the way it ought to be, the way it . . . happened.

DAVID
goes to the car door, gets in—starts the motor. The Austrian stands listening for five seconds, then snaps his hand for the motor to be switched off. It is quiet again.
DAVID
comes slowly out of the car and stands beside the Austrian, watching him.

GUS: It is very rare. In a car so new. It comes sometimes with the Marmon, however.

DAVID [
softly
]: What is it?

GUS [
turns straight to him
]: The crankshaft is sprung.

DAVID [
for a long moment he stares into the Austrian's face
]: How could you tell by listening?

GUS: Same way you do for pistons. You know. You going to work now?

DAVID [
looks at the car
]: Ya.

GUS [
hesitates for a moment, then lays his hand on
DAVID]: Don't take the head off. [DAVID
stops.
] I mean . . . you don't need to, necessarily. [DAVID
stops moving. The wrench clatters out of his hand. He stands nearly trembling before the Austrian, who suddenly turns.
] I'll go.

DAVID [
stops him
]: No, I always knew a time would come when . . . this would happen. I mean somebody like you would come, and then I'd just . . . pack up. I knew it all the time . . .

GUS: That's nonsense. You fixed plenty cars no doubt; you're a mechanic . . .

DAVID: No, I'm not really. I don't know anything about metals and ratios and . . . I was almost going to tow it to the shop in Newton. Would you tell me what to do?

GUS: Gladly. And maybe sometimes I need a hand you'll drop by. All right?

DAVID: Oh I'd be glad to.

GUS [
grips his shoulder and points under the car
]: First you take the pan down.

DAVID [
slight pause.
]: Ya?

GUS: Then you drop the bearings. Label them so you know where to put them back.

DAVID: Ya?

GUS: Then you drop the main bearings for the crankshaft. DAVID: Ya?

GUS: Then you drop the shaft itself. Take it up to Newton, is a good shop there. Tell them to exchange for a new shaft.

DAVID: Can't I straighten this one?

GUS: Is not possible for you.

DAVID: Could you straighten it?

GUS: That would depend—but I sold my instruments for this. You go to work now. Go ahead.

DAVID [
starts to move
]: You in a hurry to go away?

GUS: I'll stay, I'll watch you.

DAVID [
thankfully
]: Okay. [
He gets down on his knees and is about to get under the car.
] You feel like workin'? Just for a couple of minutes?

GUS: You would like me to?

DAVID: I always wanted to see how somebody else works. Y'know?

GUS: All right, come on. We rip her open. [
He pulls off his coat.
] You got a socket, a quarter inch?

DAVID [
a new excitement in him
]: I ain't got sockets yet, but . . . GUS: That's all right, give me an open end. [DAVID
goes for the wrench quickly.
] How much oil you got in here?

DAVID [
finding the wrench
]: Just a couple of quarts. I just ran her a minute. I'll drain her.

GUS: Are you married?

DAVID: Not yet . . . [
Under the car.
] but pretty soon . . . are you?

GUS [
ready to work, he kneels on one knee beside the car
]: No, but I am always hopeful. There is a nice red-headed girl in this town? [
Preparing to slide under.
]

DAVID [
laughs
]: She got to be red-headed?

GUS: Yes, I would prefer such a color. It always seemed to me in a small American town would be many red-headed girls. Probably this is because in general I like a small town. When this car has to be ready? [
Slides under.
]

DAVID
moves to make room; sits on his heels beside the car.

DAVID: Eleven in the morning, if possible. You think it can?

GUS: Oh, plenty of time. You got a car to take this shaft to Newton?