Сияние

The Snowmobile

           Wendywasright.Comehell,highwater,orthewelfareline,Wendywasright.Poundingthismachinetodeathwouldbetheheightoffolly,nomatterhowpleasantanaspectthatfollymade.Itwouldalmostbetantamounttopoundinghisownsontodeath.

           "FuckingLuddite,"hesaidaloud.

           Hewenttothebackofthemachineandunscrewedthegascap.Hefoundadipstickononeoftheshelvesthatranatchest-heightaroundthewallsandslippeditin.Thelasteighthofaninchcameoutwet.Notverymuch,butenoughtoseeifthedamnthingwouldrun.LaterhecouldsiphonmorefromtheVolksandthehoteltruck.

           Hescrewedthecapbackonandopenedthecowling.Nosparkplugs,nobattery.Hewenttotheshelfagainandbegantopokealongit,pushingasidescrewdriversandadjustablewrenches,aone-lungcarburetorthathadbeentakenoutofanoldlawnmower,plasticboxesofscrewsandnailsandboltsofvaryingsizes.Theshelfwasthickanddarkwitholdgrease,andtheyears’accumulationofdusthadstucktoitlikefur.Hedidn’tliketouchingit.

           Hefoundasmall,oil-stainedboxwiththeabbreviationSkid.laconicallymarkedonitinpencil.Heshookitandsomethingrattledinside.Plugs.Heheldoneofthemuptothelight,tryingtoestimatethegapwithouthuntingaroundforthegappingtool.Fuckit,hethoughtresentfully,anddroppedtheplugbackintothebox.Ifthegap’swrong,that’sjusttoodamnbad.Toughfuckingtitty.

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