Chapter 74: Dreaming Over an Empty Plot of Land
“Jason... do you repair bicycles now too...?”
Noah, who came in for his afternoon shift, tilted his head slightly the moment he saw the P50.
“What? Of course not. This is a car.”
“...What? Seriously? I thought someone had put a shell over a tricycle.”
Now that he mentioned it, it really did look like that.
“But this was actually made to be driven on public roads, right?”
“Of course. You need a license too. The engine displacement is so small that a motorcycle license is enough, though.”
Safety regulations might prevent it from being driven on public roads in places like California, but in car-friendly Arizona, it was perfectly legal.
“Ahaha, this brings back memories.”
Noah climbed into the car, gripped the steering wheel, and laughed excitedly.
For a moment, the sight overlapped with my memory of Noah riding a toy car before he had started elementary school.
“Uh... Jason. This car doesn’t have turn signals...?”
After looking around the interior with curious eyes, Noah turned toward me in bewilderment.
“Yeah. That’s normal. You have to stick your hand out the window and use hand signals. The windshield wiper is probably operated by hand too.”
Creak, creak—
“It really is? No way...”
Noah turned the wiper knob from side to side, still looking as though he could not believe it.
He might faint if I tell him it only has three forward gears.
Aside from its unrealistically small size, the P50 was a car overflowing with personality, packed with all sorts of unusual ideas.
The most remarkable of them was that it had no reverse gear.
When the car needed to be parked or turned around, the official method was quite literally to pick it up and move it.
Astonishingly, this was a method formally acknowledged by the manufacturer.
“Anyway, get out now. We need to remove the engine.”
“Yes!”
The moment I spoke, Noah sprang out of the car and went to fetch the engine hoist.
“No, this car doesn’t need one of those.”
Rattle, rattle—
Hup!
“This is the engine.”
I pulled out the watermelon-sized engine mounted behind the driver’s seat, along with its attached transmission, entirely by myself.
The P50 used a forty-nine-cubic-centimeter single-cylinder engine of the kind commonly found in small scooters used for short neighborhood trips.
When started, it made a metallic tararara sound.
“My goodness... It feels strange seeing a single-cylinder engine after looking at V8s all the time.”
“Right? This one is even a two-stroke, so it doesn’t have intake or exhaust valves. Hmm... Noah, why don’t you overhaul this engine yourself? I’ll help you from the side.”
Clatter—
Noah dropped the screwdriver he had been holding as though he were a character in a cartoon reacting in shock.
“R-really? I can try it?”
“Yeah. There aren’t many engines simpler than this one. It’s perfect for your first engine job.”
The overhaul itself was less of a problem than the utterly ridiculous difficulty of sourcing parts.
Still, I could resolve anything truly impossible through the Coin Market to some extent.
Besides, because it was a single-cylinder engine, I only needed one of each part, so the overall burden was not too great.
“Yes! Finally...! Thank you. I’ll do my best!”
“Woof! Woof!”
As Noah bounced around in excitement, Dusty hopped up and down beside him.
“Then what should I start with?”
“First, bring over a ten-millimeter socket wrench and loosen the bolts. We need to see what condition the inside of the engine is in.”
Americans used inches rather than millimeters in everyday life, but vehicle repair was an exception.
In particular, because a ten-millimeter socket did not correspond neatly to an imperial size, everyone simply called it a “ten-mil.”
“Remove these four bolts and open the cylinder head.”
“Yes!”
Nnnngh—
His answer was enthusiastic, but Noah immediately got stuck on the very first bolt.
“That’s strange... It always came loose easily when Jason did it...”
Noah muttered quietly to himself and strained with all his strength, but the bolt, seized firmly in place, did not move at all.
“Not working, is it? When that happens, don’t force it. Spray it with penetrating oil first. Use PB Blaster.”
(Translator’s Note: PB Blaster — An American penetrating-oil product used to loosen rusted, corroded, or seized fasteners and mechanical components.)
“Oh...”
Hiss—
Noah quickly brought over the penetrating-oil spray and generously coated all four bolts.
“How long do we wait after this?”
“It depends on their condition, but for something like this, at least thirty minutes. In the meantime, let’s open the transmission.”
Under ordinary circumstances, that would have been absurd, but with the P50, thirty minutes was more than enough.
This time, when I applied a little force, the transmission bolt that had remained shut for so long loosened easily with a sharp crack.
“Oh, it really is different when you do it, Jason!”
At some point, Noah had taken out his phone and begun recording while expressing his admiration.
In truth, the transmission bolt was simply less seized than the engine bolt.
But I saw no need to correct him.
Tap, tap—
Next, I gently struck the casing with a rubber mallet and opened it.
“Ugh... There’s something tangled up inside that looks like slime...”
Noah touched the transmission oil, which had turned into a jelly-like substance, with his fingertip and grimaced.
“That’s what happens when transmission oil gets old. Anyway, you just need to clean all of it out with solvent.”
“...Got it.”
Noah still had his nose pinched shut, but he answered promptly without complaint.
The bearings are standard sizes, and a motorcycle clutch should fit perfectly. I’ll just upgrade the seals to Viton for better durability.
(Translator’s Note: Viton — A fluorocarbon elastomer originally developed by DuPont. It is commonly used for seals and O-rings requiring resistance to heat, fuel, oil, and chemicals.)
Fortunately, the gears—the most important components—were intact, with no damaged teeth.
All the remaining consumable parts were universal items that could easily be found at a local parts shop.
While Noah worked hard cleaning out the transmission, thirty minutes passed in the blink of an eye.
At last, it was time for the grand opening of the engine.
Crack—
“...”
Thanks to the penetrating oil doing its job, the bolts came loose safely without snapping.
But the moment Noah saw the inside of the engine, his face turned ashen.
“Jason... the engine is dead...”
“...Yeah.”
The piston appeared to have seized near top dead center, and its surface was covered not in gleaming lubricant but in a dried, hardened film.
I tried gently turning the crank by hand.
“This looks completely seized.”
It refused to move, like the lid of a ten-year-old jar of jam.
“Then what do we do now...?”
Disheartened by the miserable state of the first engine he had ever overhauled, Noah asked in a shrinking voice.
“It’s similar to the bolts. First, we mix automatic transmission fluid with acetone and fill the cylinder with it using a syringe. We’ll spray penetrating oil over the top of the piston too. Then we wait.”
I gave the dispirited boy a light pat on the shoulder and continued.
“If your first engine overhaul is too easy, you won’t learn anything. Something like this will actually stay in your memory.”
“Hmm... Now that you mention it, that makes sense. Lately, I’ve kept thinking I was really lucky. I guess this is another kind of luck!”
“Is... it?”
I did not think it quite qualified as good luck, but Noah said it with such a bright smile that I found myself nodding anyway.
Hiss, hiss—
“And since we’re talking about luck, Noah, it looks like our shop is going to move. To a place about six times larger than this one.”
As Noah diligently sprayed penetrating oil onto the piston, I told him about the contract that had been finalized that morning.
“...What?”
Clunk—
This time, Noah dropped the spray can he was holding.
I had no idea why he always had to drop something whenever he was surprised.
“We’re moving...? When?”
“We have to construct the building ourselves, so not immediately. We’ll probably need to allow about six months.”
I picked the spray can up from the floor as I answered.
“Six months... You’re not moving to another state or anything, are you?”
Noah’s eyes shook with anxiety.
“Don’t worry. It’s still in Arizona. It’ll probably be even closer to your house.”
“Whew, then that’s a relief. Huh? Then we can go see the land right now, can’t we?”
Noah looked at me with sparkling eyes.
“Ah, I’m so excited.”
Sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, Noah could not keep still and kept bouncing in place.
Pant, pant—
Dusty, in the back seat, was equally unable to contain his excitement and scratched at the window with his front paws.
Whir—
“Dusty, you look outside. Noah, calm down. I told you, it’s still just an empty plot of land.”
I lowered the truck’s rear window as I spoke.
Noah, Dusty, and I were on our way to see the property I had just leased.
Noah had insisted that he would be too curious to sleep unless he saw it with his own eyes, so we had hurried out before sunset.
To be honest, I felt much the same way.
Ring, ring—
Just as we were nearing the property, my phone rang.
“Yes, Bill. We should be arriving soon too. All right. We’ll meet you there.”
Bill happened to be available as well, so we had decided to meet at the site and discuss the building design while we were there.
Screech—
“All right. This is it. Probably.”
There was no road on the navigation system and no particular landmark nearby, but according to the address, this was definitely the area.
“Ooooooh!”
Noah pressed his nose against the window and exclaimed in admiration.
He kept gasping in awe, but in truth, the land looked no different from the same barren desert we had been staring at throughout the drive.
It was the sort of land commonly seen on the outskirts of Arizona, dotted only with low shrubs, tumbleweeds, and the occasional small cactus.
Even so, knowing that I had leased it somehow made it feel more special.
“Wow, it’s reeeally huge! You could play baseball here. So all of this belongs to you, right, Jason?”
Noah’s excited voice spread across the silent land.
“No. It doesn’t belong to me. I’m leasing it. For a very long time.”
Sniff, sniff—
The moment I let Dusty out of the truck, he began roaming around and sniffing diligently, as though he had been assigned the mission of securing the perimeter.
Occasionally, he stopped to mark his territory.
As we stood there looking over the empty land, an old red Ford F-150 approached from the distance.
“Woof! Woof!”
“Quiet, Dusty. It’s all right. We know him.”
Bill stepped out of the truck wearing a wide-brimmed hat.
“Hello, Bill. There isn’t even a road here, but you found the place without any trouble.”
“Construction in places like this is my job. I’d be in trouble if I couldn’t find my way around.”
Bill grinned, then looked at Noah.
“And who’s this young man?”
“Noah, say hello. He’s a friend of Donnelly’s. This is my assistant, Noah.”
“Hello!”
“Oh, hello. So you’re the Noah. I’ve heard plenty about you from Earl! I hear you’ve been working hard and learning the trade. Hohoho.”
Bill usually wore either a blank expression or a slight frown—in other words, he had the face of a perpetually cranky old man.
It was the first time I had seen him smile so kindly.
“Bill... I didn’t know you could smile like that.”
“Quiet. Anyway, this is a good site. It’s close to the main road, and it looks like it’s already been graded.”
Bill immediately returned to his usual expression.
“Yes. Apparently, they originally planned to build something like an auction center here. I was told electricity, water, and sewer lines are already installed.”
“Really? Damn, you struck gold. The money is one thing, but electrical and plumbing work takes an enormous amount of time. However...”
Bill looked around, then walked toward a particular spot.
“The location of the building and the restroom will be somewhat restricted. Here, take a look at this.”
He tapped the edge of a green plastic cover in the ground with the toe of his shoe.
When he opened the lid, several water valves and an electrical meter were visible inside.
“This is a utility post.”
I had often seen them while working at construction sites before settling in Arizona.
“Oh, so you know a little about this? That’s right. The wiring has already been run underground from that utility pole over there. And that gray box should be where the main panel goes.”
Bill pointed to several places as he spoke.
“It would be best to place the building as close to this as possible. I won’t stop you if you insist on building farther away, but trenching the ground and laying new conduit all the way out there will cost a considerable amount. And if the slope isn’t right, you’ll need to install a pump as well.”
My budget was already limited, so there was no reason to take that kind of risk.
I examined the surrounding ground for a moment before speaking.
“Hmm... I think we should place the building within twenty feet to the right of the main utility post, but have the shop entrance face south so the sunlight doesn’t shine directly inside.”
The direction of the sun was extremely important when constructing a building in Arizona.
The standard approach was to avoid a west-facing entrance, which would take the full force of the blazing sun from three to seven in the afternoon, and instead choose either north or south.
“Hoho, you understand this better than I expected. For a garage, the rolling doors will provide shade, so as you said, south-facing would be better than north-facing. The water line runs this way, so we should group the restroom and parts-washing room on the east side.”
“Then the office and customer waiting room would go on the opposite side.”
“You’re installing lifts in the work area, of course?”
“I’m considering three above-ground post lifts.”
“If they’re post lifts, we’ll need to specify four-thousand-PSI concrete when the slab is poured. And the roll-up doors should be at least fourteen feet high so trucks can pass through.”
(Translator’s Note:PSI — Pounds per square inch, a pressure unit widely used in the United States.)
Whenever I said a single thing, Bill seemed to visualize the entire plan instantly.
He took out a notebook and wrote down each point that needed to be checked by hand in the old-fashioned way.
I liked that about him.
“You said you were going to review the final equipment layout with Donnelly, right?”
“Yes. He has the experience, after all.”
“Hmph. I see. He was extremely happy to hear that things were going well for you. If you show him this place, his smile will probably stretch from ear to ear. And... thank you for everything.”
Bill suddenly spoke quietly in a serious voice.
“...No. I’m the one who should be thanking you. After coming here today, the thought of what might have happened without you is terrifying.”
“Hoho. You can thank me after you receive my estimate.”
“Please be gentle with me on that.”
For a while, Bill and I stood side by side without speaking, watching Noah and Dusty run around the empty space.
In my mind, I could faintly picture the restoration shop that would one day stand there.
I had helped construct plenty of buildings for other people.
But now that I was finally about to build something of my own, my heart pounded so hard that I could hear it in my ears.
[How to Park a Peel P50]
CC0
[Peel P50 Interior]
CC BY 2.0, photo by andreboeni