AA Auto and Truck repair was one of the biggest repair shops in tiny Van Horn, Texas, population 1753. The tow truck driver, Cruz, was a lifelong mechanic. My impression was he was trustworthy. I felt pretty confident when he said it could be a clogged fuel filter. When did I last change it? Umm, fuel filter? I don’t know anything about a fuel filter. I had major work done in 2019, new batteries, etc., so I assumed things like that were done? I was starting to feel like the proverbial dumb blonde although the blonde is mostly grey now! In my early 20’s I did things like change oil, filters, clean spark plugs, but that was many moons ago. I had a husband who was very handy and he did all the mechanical chores. I grew away from the greasy fingernail jobs. Now as a widow of two years I am being asked when I last changed a fuel filter. I shrug my shoulders.
New fuel filter. It does not start.
A couple more mechanics join the group looking under the hood. Maybe it is the crankshaft sensor, someone said they saw that cause this once. It is ordered from the auto parts store. Eventually it arrives, is installed and turn the key. But it does not start. Mechanics drift away to work on a semi-truck needing a wheel bearing. Cruz starts to wiggle things. I turn the key. Nothing. Wiggle something else. Nothing. Wiggle this and vroom! We have the answer!
A conclave a mechanics is assembled and the general consensus is that I need to have this expensive job done, but I am so close to Arizona, that they all agree that if it was them, they would take the chance and get it repaired as soon as possible. If engine loses power again, I should just get under the hood and wiggle that thing. It seems a reasonable plan of action. I play the ridiculously expensive bill and buy fuel (prices not bad here) and I’m rolling down the highway again, on a beautiful sunny afternoon. Until I wasn’t. Engine quits. I climb under the hood and try several times, wiggling the thing. But it isn’t working.
Cruz comes out to rescue me, again, as I’m only 13 miles west of Van Horn. They don’t charge me for the second tow job. Which is the only break they ever give me. Unfortunately tiny Van Horn does not stock this expensive thing so it must be ordered from El Paso and should be delivered at noon or 1 pm tomorrow. Would I like the office manager to take me to a motel?
She takes me, the cats, the litter box, the cat food and dishes, my ice chest and my personal items to the Budget Inn. She owns the Budget Inn. It is at the very bottom of acceptable for comfort, and cleanliness. Not a single luxury. No coffee pot. No radio. No shampoo. No hair dryer. One thin towel, one thin wash cloth, one thin hand towel. Decor from the 1980’s. A TV that has lines through the picture. But the bed is comfortable. I can handle this for one night. Cats hide under bed which is actually cleaner than the Motel 6 but I wouldn’t call it “clean.” She does not charge me extra for “pets.” But the daily fee is $20 more than the Motel 6. Whatever. It is just one night. And it is very quiet. It is located way out on the far edge of town. No stores or restaurants within many blocks. Van Horn, like many southwest interstate towns, is a shadow of its former self. More empty and abandoned buildings than occupied buildings. There was one tiny restaurant a block and half away. I walked over there only to find that it is only open on weekends, if the elderly owner is feeling up to opening. There is a McDonald’s - on the other side of the interstate, maybe a 1.5 or 2 miles away. But due to my annoying foot and leg problems, this is far too far for me to walk. But it is only for one night…Wednesday Jan 4 comes to an end.
Thursday morning the office manager drops me at a wonderful Mexican restaurant for breakfast, on her way to work. The food is divine. I have really missed authentic Mexican food during the months I’ve stayed in the north. Then I start to walk back to the motel. How far is it? I walk and walk. I find a couple places to sit and rest. My legs, my feet, are telling me that this is not a good idea. I spot a lady with grey hair coming out of the post office so I ask her if she is going west because I really need a ride to my motel. I explain my truck is in the shop, etc. She says she’s actually going east but she’d be pleased to run me over to my motel, it’s not too much trouble. What a delightful lady and her chihuahua Peanut!
Out of the blue, I get a call from A.A. (a friend I know from Arizona) who is traveling to Louisiana and will be stopping in Van Horn for lunch. Do I want to meet? You bet! A friendly face is welcome indeed. She and T.A. are relocating a large dog to a new home in the Pelican State. I get to see my friends, pet a dog, and eat some really hot Mexican food in the same restaurant.
The office manager informs me that the part was not in today’s delivery but it should come tomorrow (Friday) for sure. Then they can get me back on the road. I ask repeatedly to make sure I will only need to spend one more night. Answer is “Absolutely.” The shop does not work on Saturdays. So if it can’t be done by 5 pm Friday. It won’t be done until Monday.
Okay. I'm not happy. But I can handle one more night in the Budget Inn. The sun goes down on Jan 5th. The low lonely sound of the Union Pacific railroad rumbling by puts me to sleep.
To be continued…
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