Previously:
Wolf, the garage guy was requiring Liz to show her license as proof of car ownership:
"The true car owner's individual fingers were shaking as she fumbled to retrieve her license from her card bundle in her fanny pack. She muttered loud enough, so he could hear, "It's in here somewhere. I'm always telling myself, 'you need to put your license right at the front of your cards, so you can find it when you need it.'"

*********


Liz thought of telling about the time, a couple of years ago, when she needed to get her license renewed. With the tension, in this present moment, tighter than too-small a rubber band around too large a pile of papers, she declined.

That year, Vermont state was requiring everyone to get a special kind of license. There were several kinds of papers of proof required. One of them was a need to show her Social Security card. She had purposely transferred it from her burn box of protection from fire and other possible calamities, to her card packet in her fanny pack. Do you think she could find it?








No, of course not. She felt she must have appeared psychotic with all her fifteen-plus cards strewn around the surface of the side table. There was a card for this bargain, this discount, this place, that place, but no Social Security card. The lady looked at her and said, You'll have to come back at another time."

She had the sinking sensation of experiencing deja vu, as she stood there knowing her car was just outside, no more than a short walk away. Do you think she could locate that one vital card, her license?

"It is nowhere to be found." She was muttering several expletives. "No, no. not again." She said through gritted teeth.

The other two shuffled anxiously as they noticed Wolf, absent-mindedly or in an attempt to intimidate someone, anyone, tracing his dancing fingers over the cold black metal of the double-barrel shotgun.

Everyone whipped their heads in Liz's direction when she breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Here it is." She was going to give her pat disclaimer, that her picture was kind of scary, with no glasses, but decided against it.

Tommy and Linda could finally let go of the breath, they were unaware they had been holding in. If there were a pile of leaves in front of them, they would have been blown all over the place.

Liz shook from her shoes, up, in a combination of excitement and great anxiety. Silence, once again, overtook the room as she handed Wolf the license card bearing her picture.

He stood there turning it this way and that, flipping it over, holding it up to the light as if it were a two hundred dollar bill. Liz was sure, next, he was going to test its authenticity by biting it, like it was a gold coin. That guy had clearly watched too many spy movies



Each of the three was shifting weight from the left to the right foot, and back again. They were wondering what other test he was planning to carry out to verify proof of ownership.

The last action was to compare it with the copy he'd made on paper.
"Well, I'll be darned. It's a match. So, that's your car out there?"

Liz wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, but thought she'd best respond. "Yes, that Honda Fit, Vermont license plate reading, 'AYL139' is my car."

"Then what are we waiting for? The car is all taken care of, repaired and paid for by Chief Lavendar. The solenoid has been replaced and the battery has been fully charged. The rusting solenoid coil was sapping the battery's charge. You'll be fine now. Let's get you on your way. And I can be on my way."

Tommy put his hand up in a 'stop' motion. "Two things, first of all, I need my watch. Secondly, why is this place like a ghost town?"

Linda had to get this over with. "A third thing. Do not forget to turn off that coffee pot."

"Oh yes, I'd better do that right now. I will want to get out of here as soon as possible. And will not want to come in here in a couple of days with smashed glass all over. That's happened a couple of times." He headed over toward the counter with the coffee pot and cup on it.

Tommy was still holding out his hand, signaling that he was expecting his watch's return.

After fiddling with the coffee pot and mug, Wolf turned. "Oh, that's right, your watch. He reluctantly removed it from his wrist.

Tommy nearly grabbed it from Wolf's grasp as he repeated the ghost town question.

"I guess there's been some kind of bad contagious flu going around. Have you had your radio on at all?"

It occurred to Tommy, he hadn't had his radio on in days. He was certain the roaming ladies had not been near a radio in even more days than he. "No, none of us has listened to a radio in days. Why do you ask?"

" Why, the last time I listened to the news, they said it was spreading all over the world. They said people are dropping like flies. The government says people should be wearing a mask and stay six feet away from each other."

Linda said, "We don't have any masks. Where would we get one?"

Wolf pointed toward the plastic container with masks overflowing from it. "Right over there, by the door on the wall. See um over there? Take as many as you want. I'm closing up shop after you people leave, which should be soon. Here's the key to the car and your license back."

"Phew, I'm glad you remembered the license. I would have been back home and still wouldn't have missed it."

"You would have if a cop got you for speeding." Linda was teasing Liz for her long history of having a 'lead foot'. Her father called her 'Lead Foot Lizzy.

Shrugging, unsure why they were picking any out, each pocketed a handful of masks. They had no idea if they'd even need them, but they'd have plenty.

When they got outside and started walking toward the car, Tommy said, "Wait up." He went to his car and grabbed a couple of napkins and a Bic pen.

"Here we go," Liz mumbled, It's just as we predicted. Should we tell him right off or let him realize on his own?"

Linda used one of her favorite sayings. "Let's play it by ear."