I am suffering from another rejection and another day of a sinus headache. (Yippee on both.) Therefore, I’ve decided to take another day off from blogging. Luckily, I have a few million words written down for the books. Once more, see that little comment link? I am dying for people to tell me what they think of “Marty’s Mustang.” Don’t forget to let all your friends know about the second part of the short story going up.
Marty’s Mustang: Part Two
Peter chuckled as he walked in to the shop. The light was on in the corner where Chris was working on the Mustang. “Hand me that wrench, will you?” Hans asked from under the Mustang.
“Here,” Chris was standing near a standing tool chest. The old Craftsman red tool chest had a small engraving on it, just enough letters to spell “Hans Adolph Zeidrich, Senior”. It had been a gift from Marty to Hans their first Christmas together. Carl Houston, Hans’ adopted father, had decided if Hans was old enough to marry, he was old enough to get an allowance from his trust fund. The two teenagers were shocked to find out how much money they now had, but they used it wisely. There were the splurges for presents, though. The tool chest had been one of those splurges.
The tool chest contained Hans Zeidrich’s personal tools. For this job, Hans had allowed the tools to be used once more. Every evening for the last two weeks, someone had to go find Chris and Hans. They were usually found bent over, or under, the Mustang. It was beginning to look like a car once more. “You two forget about supper?” Peter asked as he walked up to the Mustang.
“Opps,” Chris said innocently.
“Almost have her running,” Hans slid out from under the Mustang. “Try her, son.” Hans said as he wiped his hands on one of the rags to remove some of the grease.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, Chris tried to start the Mustang. She wasn’t too bad on the inside; just a bit rusty. As the car sputtered to life, Chris smiled brightly. “Purrin’ like a kitten, Pa.”
“Just what I wanted to hear.” Hans said before closing the hood. “Now all we have to do is make her look pretty.”
“Do it later. Jess is holdin’ supper until y’all show.” Peter said pointedly. “And I need ta get back ta the office.”
“Ranch work?” Hans asked as he looked over at Peter. Peter nodded. “Chris can help you on that. I made him a promise years ago that he could work beside Jonathan.” Jonathan Walsenburg had been Hans’ foreman and best friend. In May the year beforehand Jonathan and Peter had been riding fence. The two had been talking when Jonathan suddenly slumped forward in his saddle. The older man was dead of an aneurysm, leaving Peter to do the ranch work by himself.
Peter looked over at the young man slipping out of the now turned off Mustang. “I could.” Chris stated softly.
“Good, ‘cause I sure need the help.” Peter said truthfully. “We start teachin’ ya the books after supper tonight.”
Chris was nervous as he sat beside Peter in the den. “About time you started to work the books.” Peter muttered under his breath. “Sure ain’t gonna get help from the rest of our brothers.”
“Would you prefer that?” Chris’ voice was barely a whisper.
Opening the ledger, Peter shook his head. “No, I’d like ta never do the books. Here’s how we’re doin’ things now. Every purchase, sell and wage goes in this here ledger. At the end of the week the ledgers are entered in ta the computer. Quicken Books is amazingly helpful. We use TurboTax at the end of the year. Quicken Books makes my life easy.”
“Alright,” Chris said softly.
“Now, this here ledger is the loss and gain. I put these in the spreadsheet in Excel when I gotta. Spring and fall get busy ‘round here. But, well, ya worked this place. Got issues from time ta time with other losses.” Peter continued.
“Yeah, sure,” Chris said softly.
“Hey, you’re the one with the associate’s degree. Should be easier for ya than big brother.” Peter tried to lighten the mood. For the rest of the evening, Peter taught Chris Peter’s system. The older brother was shocked at how quickly the younger brother understood the system. By the end of their session, Chris could have taught classes on Peter’s system. Chris had always been a sponge when it came to information.
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