Respect Me, Part 1 by Nia Arthurs
Harriet
Doc’s garageis bigger than I thought it would be. The stench of car oil hangs heavily in the air. Vehicles in various stages of disrepair hunker in neat rows. Harsh fluorescent lights illuminate bare walls and giant doors that can fit many different vehicles—from clown cars to Mack trucks.
“Hello?” I call out.
A hood slams shut and a man appears in my line of sight. He’s short with dark skin, dark eyes, and a goatee rimmed in silver. The overalls on his lean frame used to be blue, but now it’s a mix of black and dark brown. Given the oil stains on his hands, I’m guessing the dark blotches on his clothes are from working.
I blink rapidly, not sure what I was expecting.
Doc looks so… normal.
Every time I pictured him, I saw the genie in Aladdin. The magical creature who’d solve all my problems. The fairy godmother who would turn my pumpkin of a marriage into a golden chariot of happiness.
In reality, Doc could be my uncle or my grandfather. He can’t poof around the room. He has no magic wand in his oil-stained fingers. The bandage on his arm tells me he bleeds same as anyone.
“Can I help you?” Doc asks.
I swallow my nerves and push forward with the plan Calvin suggested. “My friend Pax told me to bring my vehicle here. Said I’d get the best care.”
“Pax?” He taps his chin and purses dark brown lips. “That name sounds familiar.”
“She’s Calvin’s wife.”
“Ah, right. Mrs. Fox.”
“They sang your praises, Doc. Said nothing but good things about you.” The kind of things that are almost unbelievable. Especially now that I see Doc is just a man. “You were the first person I thought of.” My fingers tighten on the purse. My words are double-edged. “And Pax was sure you could help me.”
“That was very nice of her.”
“Pax is a very nice girl.”
A year ago, I would never have said that. When we first met, I hated the ground Pax walked on. She’s a beautiful heiress with parents who adore her. She had money from birth, access to anything she could ever want, and a confidence that was innate and contagious.
My parents were divorced and both of them struggled to make ends meet. I grew up working three jobs just to afford my college tuition, only dreaming of a life where I could snap my fingers and have the money and connections Pax does.
My prejudice against her clouded my judgement but, the minute I gave Pax a chance, I found out she’s a genuinely sweet, hardworking person.
“What are the symptoms?” Doc asks, studying me like he can read all my thoughts.
“Symptoms?” My eyes fly to the ceiling. “There was smoke coming out of the hood.”
“Smoke?” Doc tilts his head.
“Yup. And a weird clanking sound.”
“Alright. Drive it in and let me see.”
I jump into my car and drive it up the ramp. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I can’t believe that actually worked!
While Doc checks out my vehicle, I observe him from the side of the room. His dark fingers press against the hood and he uses a scanner to read something from the car. There’s not a hint of hesitancy in him. Every move is purposeful.
He makes a low, humming sound in his throat when he starts the car. His eyes take in the engine. Sweep over the wires. Inspect the parts I couldn’t name to save my life.
He moves to the tool box. Back to the car with another tool.
More observation. Quietly. Determinedly.
He seems like a good mechanic, sure. Not that I would know a good mechanic just by watching him work. But women? Marriage? He doesn’t look like much of a marital counselor. Where are his spectacles perched on the end of his nose? Where are his turtlenecks? His pensive frowns. His hand gestures. How do you feel about that?
There aren’t any certificates on the wall. No counseling degrees. No endorsements from talk show celebrities or clinical psychiatrists. What could this small man possibly have done to help Calvin Fox change?
Am I insane to think this will work?
Doc glances up at that moment and catches me watching him.
I jump. Look away. Pretend the dirty wall next to me is of utmost importance.
Doc clears his throat. “Ma’am.”
“Yes?” I hurry toward him. “Do you know what’s wrong with the car?”
“Nothing.”
My stomach flops. “N-nothing? You’re saying nothing is wrong with it?”
“That’s correct.”
“Oh…”
“But I knew that before you drove it in here.” He wipes his fingers on a dirty rag that looks like it shouldn’t be cleaning anything.
“You did?”
Doc’s lips curl up. It’s a hint of a smile. Easily repressed amusement. “There’s no way you would have been able to drive here if what you’d complained about was true.”
“Then why did you let me drive it in?”
“Because I wanted to service it for you. Make sure there really wasn’t a problem.” His eyes pin me in place and, I swear, he’s got a gaze that can penetrate the soul. “Since we’ve established that you didn’t come here for help with your car,” he folds his arms over his chest, “why are you really here?”
It’s go time.
Sweat beads on my upper lip.
I don’t bother swiping it away before I answer. “I’ve heard about you from my friends.” A pause lingers. Fills the air between us like a balloon. “I want to fix my marriage.”
His stern frown relaxes. “I see. That’s no problem. Whenever your husband is ready, he can come to the office.” Doc slams the hood shut and tries to hand the key back to me. “Have a good day.”
“No, you don’t understand.” I stumble over my words, sensing the gravity of this moment even if I can’t explain why I feel that way. “I’m the one who wants to see you.”
Doc tilts his head as if he’s suddenly lost his grasp of English.
“Me.” I tap my chest. “I’m the one who’ll fix this marriage.”
“I don’t meet with women. My technology is for males only.”
Desperation balls in my throat, dragging me down by the ankles. Panic overwhelms me and I fight it back with the only weapon I have.
Anger.
I let the annoyance surge through my veins. “They call you Doc. Doesn’t that mean you have a responsibility to help when someone is sick?”
“Lady, I’m not the person for that. Whenever your husband is ready, then I can help you.”
“I’m not going to take no for an answer.” I march in front of him when he tries to move away. “Women are just as capable as men. And I’m going to prove it.”
“How?” He blinks patiently.
“I’m going to come here everyday. I’m going to show up until you get tired of me.” My eyes slide over the dirty mechanic shop. “Just like Calvin came here everyday and worked side-by-side with you, I’ll do the same. You’ll see. I can work just as hard as a man can.”
Doc chuckles. “I believe you.”
“Good. Because I mean it. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as me. When I put my mind to something, I get it done if I have to wear my fingers to the bone.”
Doc gestures to me. “Whatever you wish.”
“Where are you going?” I call after him when he suddenly turns and strides away. “Doc?”
He moves to a car deep inside the shop. I hurry behind him, clutching my purse close. My heels clack on the cement, tapping hard as I run.
Doc slides behind the wheel of a broken-down pick up.
I wait awkwardly beside the door.
He pushes his head out. “You might want to move.”
“I’m staying right here.”
He shrugs suit yourself.
A moment later, the car’s engine rumbles to life and a loud bang explodes through the room. Smoke billows out the back of the truck. Fire?
My fight or flight instincts kick in. I scream my head off and run to safety. When I return to my senses, I realize that I’m out on the sidewalk and Doc is standing in the doorway of his shop, both hands on his hips and dark eyes staring in my direction.
Sheepishly, I clamor back to him. “That doesn’t count.”
“Take your keys.” He drops them in the palm of my hand. “And go home. Come back with your husband and then we can talk.”
“But Doc…”
“If you’ll excuse me,” he lifts a hand, his face as hard as stone, “I have work to do.”
My heart drops straight to my toes.
If I can’t get Doc to help me, then my marriage really is doomed.
