A Solid Solution
by Paul Finnigan
sure Id make it, huffed Layne
Burchell as he and Clem Kilger peered under the
steamy hood of Laynes pick-up.
hose, grunted Clem. Well borrow
old Bessies. Shes been sittin
idle the past three years anyhow. Yeah, been
gettin round on good boot leather ever
coolant, sighed Layne. Stuffs
like liquid gold these days and my next paycheques
leave it with me. Ill come up with somethin,
uttered Clem. Cmon back tomorrow
A fierce wind
howled as Clem answered a knock at the door the
who? chuckled Layne. Howd yuh
laid in bed till near four this mornin
thinkin over the sit-zi-ation, said
Clem. I mean just what dad-gummed liquid
dont freeze mid-winter. No sense usin
Clyde Peevers corn whiskey. Twice the price
of antifreeze. Denny Klatts hooch is no
better. Set a bottle tween the doors last
winter to chill. Froze harder than Hattie Penners
yuh use? asked Layne.
water, beamed Clem.
dropped as the pair peeked under the hood, only
to behold a distended, ruptured radiator.
hell! roared Layne.
figure it, muttered Clem as the pair gazed over
at a creek briskly flowing down the steep
hillside by Clems shack.