Free 8-Track by L.J.Lahage Page B

responded together. Sig stood up, “I gotta run Eli, I told Melanie we’d go see Chinatown  today. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around Bill.”
    “Yeah, be seeing ya.”
     “Later dude,” Eli said.
    Bill waited until the door closed behind Sig. “That guy eats his Wheaties, huh?” he said with a reserved smile.
    “Siggie was a bodybuilder, won Mr Maine in fifty-five.”
    “Oh, wow. Is Sig short for something?”
    Eli shifted and crossed his right leg over the left. “Sig is short for Sigliano, but his first name is Jimmy.” Bill nodded.
    “Gotcha.”
    “There ain't much going on right now, you looking to start working soon?” Eli asked.
    “Yeah, sooner the better, I’m one of those people who needs to stay busy.”
    “I got a side job that I’m working on in Wolfeboro, mostly guttin the inside of a house. I could use another hand, if you want the work?”
    Bill put his hand up to his face and ran it over his brown beard. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don't wanna take anyone else's j ob though.” 
    “You won’t be, I can pay you ten dollars an hour and lend you tools for the...”
    Bill put his hand up in a stopping motion. “No, thank you. I had all my tools sent up. They’re sitting in my garage right now.”
    Eli raised a brow, stood up and smiled. “No shit huh, sounds like you think ahead. I’ll give you the directions to my place, I’m off Route 104 in Meredith. Let me grab a pen and some paper.”
    “Sure.” Bill noticed the far wall in the kitchen, it was covered with photographs. He threw his cup away and went over, leaning in and looking at the faces in the pictures. Some were dated, 1959, 1964 and 1970 . Bill’s eyes stopped on one picture, it was a photo of Eli when he was younger. He was sitting on the hood of a black Pontiac GTO next to another man. Several men were standing around, one of them had a scar running down his cheek. The letters OMC were written on the back of another man’s vest. A heavy hand on Bill’s shoulder startled him.
    It was Eli, he unfolded a road map and began writing on the side of it. “You shouldn’t have any problems, just follow this. I put my phone number on there in case ya change your mind.” Eli handed the map to Bill.
    “Yeah, I know this area.”
    Eli slapped his shoulder.
    “Think nothing of it, that’s how we do things up here. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    ***
 
    The sky was clear the next morning, the air a bit warmer. It was eight forty-two when Bill turned down Baxter Ave, parking in front of Eli’s home. The oversized traditional Cape was stunning and even boasted an attached two car garage. Bill noticed the roof, it was cedar and stained a blond ash. Eli’s Lincoln was parked in the driveway next to an old blue Chevy pickup. One of the garage doors was open. Bill took a quick look as he passed by. 
    On the left was a beautiful red Karmann Ghia. In front of it and to the right stood a work bench, small hand tools were hung neatly on a peg board over it. Bill noticed how clean and organized it was, even the floor shined. He observed from afar until the mirrored chrome stole his attention. The Harley Davidson parked in the corner was something to marvel at. Bill was admiring the motorcycle when he read the sign hanging on the wall. “When we do right, nobody remembers. When we do wrong, nobody forgets.”  I wonder what that ’ s supposed to mean?
    An attractive Asian woman, who looked to be in her early forties, opened the front door before Bill could even knock. She spoke in broken English. “Hello, you are Bill?”
    “Yes, I’m Bill,” he replied extending his arm and shaking the woman’s smooth hand.
    “My name Bitty, Eli expecting you, please come in.” Eli was putting on his vest when they entered into the kitchen. “Hey man, you ready?” he asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “You wanna coffee for the road?” Eli asked tying his worn leather boots.
    “Sure.”
    “How you take it?” Bitty asked.
    “Black,”