"Beautiful day," he said. She smiled enigmatically and turned her
ignition key.
"Damn," she said.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing happening." She turned the key several more times.
"Pop the hood," Oliver said. The hood sprang open just as the words
left his mouth. He felt for the second latch and leaned his head over
the engine. "Try it again." He could hear the solenoid clicking. "How
about the lights?" The lights were fine, plenty of juice. "Don't know,"
he said. "Could be the starter. I don't think a jump will do it."
Jacky called triple A. An older man went through the same procedure and
then hoisted the truck behind his wrecker.
"Ride home?" Oliver asked.
"If you don't mind," Jacky said. "South Portland."
"Right in my direction," Oliver said. He drove into the city and
pointed out his house as they approached the bridge. "Back soon,
Verdi," he called out the window.
"Verdi?"
"My cat." They crossed the bridge, and Jacky directed him to a quiet
street in a residential neighborhood. He stopped in her driveway
intending to back out and return the way they had come.
"You look hungry," she said.
"I am." He was surprised.
"I have something for you.
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