Scene Eighty Two
In which goodbyes are said
Foxvision, for some reason, had a garage adjoining the inn. Greg wasn’t sure why this was necessary, maybe, he thought, it was for the benefit of travelers who broke down in the village.
Whatever it was doing there, it was very convenient. What was left of Crazy Sven’s taxi was spread out along the floor, along with all manners of tools and, with his head under something large and metallic, Crazy Sven himself.
Greg walked in, ducking his head to avoid low hanging cables. The air had the earthy smell of grease and ingrained sweat. His foot hit something metallic, which rolled away with a tinkling noise. Crazy Sven heard the sound and poked his head up with a confused expression. His expression turned to a wide grin when he saw who his visitor was. “Girly Man!” he said, “How are you being?”
Greg smiled, not really able to think of a response, he leaned lightly on a big wheeled tool box, feeling it shift a little under his wait. “How’s the car?” he asked, trying to remember if Tony Tony had ever given him advice on saying goodbye to friends.
“Is going good!” said Crazy Sven, grinning like a man back from his first skydiving trip, “I am thinking that it should be ready to drive us away soon!”
Greg looked at the cab again; it seemed to have been mostly striped down and spread over every available surface, everything that was left looked like a piece of modern art. Greg didn’t have high hopes of it ever moving again. “About that…” he said. But words caught in his mouth.
“Ya!” said Crazy Sven, head down in something that Greg didn’t really know the use of. “I know there is hurry, but it will need little time to work out body work.”
“Right” said Greg, thinking he might have finally found something to latch on to. “About the time problem.”
Crazy Sven stood up, wiping his hands on a much more oily rag. It struck Greg for the first time that Crazy Sven was a lot taller than he was. Crazy Sven put his hand on Greg’s shoulder in a manner that Greg found he could easily think of as fatherly. “You don’t need worry, Girly man” said Crazy Sven sincerely, “Crazy Sven, modern day superhero, gives you his word, His Word! That the cab will be fixed in time, to give you help.”
Greg felt completely wrong footed, he gaped slightly and nodded; he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
Crazy Sven nodded back, and went back to fixing something that looked like it involved really high voltages. Greg walked outside numbly. It shouldn’t be this hard! He thought. Back at the newspaper he had had to fire people on an almost monthly bases; he hadn’t liked doing it, but he had done it, and it had never been this hard. Surely firing someone should be harder than saying goodbye to a friend, hell he had even done that before, and it had never been this difficult.
Greg didn’t know what had happened to him in the last month, but he wasn’t sure that it was worth the downsides; he wasn’t even sure that he would be able to do his job when he got back home.
He knew that he should walk back in there and just say what had to be said, but somehow his legs didn’t move. I need to settle my nerves, thought Greg, it’s probably just stress. Besides he’s working right now, I probably shouldn’t disturb him. I’ll tell him at lunch, he thought, it’ll be easier then.