The wrecker was sitting behind Ricky Breedlove's battered single-wide trailer, exactly where David remembered seeing it that morning. He drove his black Ford through the field behind the house and parked it with the hood less than 6 inches from the cracked vinyl siding.
David climbed out of the cab of his truck and slammed the door. He and Cal hadn't spoken two words to one another on their way here, but that was okay. David and Cal had been best friends since they they were eight. They didn't need to talk in order to understand one another. Cal was the only person David had ever truly trusted.
David yanked the driver's side door open on the wrecker and brushed his fingers against the ignition. A screwdriver was hanging out of the little slot where the key was supposed to go. He supposed he should be glad that his father was too unprofessional to bother repairing the broken ignition. The lack of keys made the wrecker much easier to borrow.
He crossed his fingers as he twisted the screwdriver. He hoped it hadn't been more than a couple of days since the last time the wrecker had run. The ancient diesel engine got finicky about cranking after it had been on vacation for a few weeks. The motor coughed for moment and then whined.
“Come on honey. Don't let me down now.” He pressed his boot down on the accelerator, sending as much fuel to the engine as possible.
The wrecker's engine coughed again and then fired with a belch of ugly black smoke. David smiled and patted the cracked steering wheel fondly.
“Tell me she's got fuel in her tanks.” Cal leaned against the side of the wrecker. His thick eyebrows were furrowed low over his dark eyes. His normally straight shoulders were slouched and he looked absolutely exhausted.
David read the gauge. “Three-quarters of a tank. I don't think he's driven it since the last time I used it.”
“Must not realize you filled her up,” Cal replied.
David let out a short, harsh laugh. “Probably not. You getting in or are you planning on standing here all night?”
“I'm thinking...” Cal trailed off and then shook his head. “Give me the keys to the Ford.”
“My keys?”
Cal didn't bother clarifying. He just held out his hand expectantly.
“Cal.”
“Give me the damn keys, David.”
“What are you going to do?” David countered.
“Look, its almost 4 o'clock now. It'll be dark in less than two hours. It's going to take you that long just to get Ian's truck sunny-side up and out of the woods.”
“I know.”
“Ian is a fucked up mess,” Cal said. “You'll be lucky if he doesn't have a complete and total nervous breakdown before you get his truck back to the shop.”
“I know how to make him hold it together.”
“Good luck with that.” Cal shook his head and kept his hand extended. “You're not superman, Breedlove. We're running out of daylight. Give me your damn keys already.”
“I want to know what you're planning to do.” David pulled his keys out of his pocket. He ran his fingers over the worn smooth metal. His key ring was simple. One key to his truck. One key to Cal's Chevy. They key to his Dad's trailer. The keys to Cal's parents house. The key to the gate on the 1000 acre hunting lease Cal's Pappy owned.
“No, you don't.” Cal kept his hand open. His eyes shone with exhaustion and annoyance. David knew the look well enough. He dropped the keys into Cal's palm.
“Be careful,” David told him.
Cal laughed as he shook his head. “What good would that do?”
David considered their situation for a moment and then shrugged. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do?”
“Dude, I'm fixing to do something I'm pretty sure neither one of us ever thought we'd do.” Cal rubbed his hands together, rolling David's keys in between his palms. “If you get back here with Addy and the Dodge before I get back, go ahead and take Ian home. Don't wait on me. Just get him out of here.”
“I can do that.”
“If you still ain't heard from me after you drop Ian off, go by the school with Addy and pick up my truck.”
“How long are you going to be gone?” David asked.
“Depends on where Pappy parked the backhoe and whether or not he left the keys behind.”
David hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Fair enough,” he replied.
“Stay safe,” Cal told him as he walked back to the Ford. He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the siding on the house-trailer.
“I'm not the one taking the risks,” David muttered as he put the wrecker into reverse and headed back into the trails.