Summoning the Night (Arcadia Bell #2)(91)

Jupe studied the photos that Lon was spreading out for his inspection. I peeped over his shoulder. Beautiful GTOs gleamed, fully restored and sitting pretty at car collector shows. All of them had sleek, two-door bodies fronted by curvaceous hoods with chain-link grilles.

“Whoa,” Jupe said, touching a photo.

Lon pulled out a small, square card, a sample of auto paint in high-gloss, metallic red-violet. I was afraid to look at it for too long—like staring into the sun, it might do some eye damage. “The car could be any color you wanted,” Lon said. “This is Plum Mist. It’s one of the original colors.”

“No way.” Jupe picked up the paint sample and held it up to the light. “No one in La Sirena has a purple car.”

“You could. Or black, silver, or red,” Lon encouraged.

“Purple is my favorite color.” Jupe smiled, turning around to hand me the sample. “Who’s going to fix it up? When can they start?”

Lon scooted the restoration books in Jupe’s direction. “You are.”

Jupe’s jaw dropped. “What? I can’t rebuild a car.”

“Sure you can. You’re smart, good with details.”

“Good at taking apart things and putting them back together,” I added, remembering how he’d fixed the vacuum cleaner a couple of weeks ago when Mrs. Holiday sucked up one of Mr. Piggy’s tiny spines and gummed up the works.

“This is crazy! I can’t do this!” Jupe’s eyes were frantic, darting up and down the car. “I’m just a kid!”

Lon set two keys down on the hood, along with the bill of sale. “I thought you were fourteen.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know how to drive a car—how could I restore one?”

“You read these books, look up stuff online. Take a class after school. My friend Danny teaches auto shop at the high school, and he’s a member of the La Sirena GTO Association. He’ll help you with the hard stuff, locate parts for you, that kind of stuff. We’ll find someone who can reupholster the seats.”

Jupe eyed the keys on the hood. “Even if I could, it would take me, like, forever.”

“You’ve got a year until you can get your learner’s permit,” I said.

“And you can take over the garage,” Lon suggested. “Haul over a couch from Grandpa’s old house in the Village. Maybe even put a TV in here.”

Jupe pulled his face away from the passenger window and looked between us, then spoke to Lon in a small voice. “You really think I could do it?”

“Why not? And when you’re done, you’ll know all about cars. Mechanics make decent money. It’d be nice to have a skill like that.”

After a few moments of doubt, Jupe smiled, like he was starting to believe it himself. Then he scrunched up his face, thinking two steps ahead. “Can I put posters up on the walls in here?”

“No naked women.”

“What about a nude calendar? All mechanics have them.”

“That’s just in the movies,” Lon said. “No one makes those anymore.”

“Please! You shot—”

Lon made a loud chastising noise. “That was a long time ago.”

“You shot what exactly?” I asked. “And how long ago?”

Jupe grinned. “It was—”

“So do you want this thing or not?” Lon said quickly, cutting him off.

Jupe snatched the keys off the hood. “Hell yeah! This is the best birthday present ever!”

He took a couple of laps around the car, opening both doors and crawling around inside, only to complain about the “dead fish” stink. Lon lifted the hood, and after they peered inside, Jupe finally calmed enough to call his friend Jack and brag about his new prize.

Lon and I leaned against the GTO.

“Good job,” I whispered to Lon.

“It was your idea.” He slung an arm around my shoulder and kissed me lightly on the top of my head.

I smiled up at him and traced the small scar on his neck. Much smaller than the scar on his ribs, and I was glad this one was there. It meant he was alive. Warm and breathing and whole. I would never stop being thankful for that. And, truthfully, I couldn’t be happier about Lon’s owing Bob a favor. Maybe Bob’s newfound confidence would lead him to spend less time on a barstool in Tambuku and more time putting his knack to better use.

“If the kid can’t restore this thing, don’t blame me,” I said.

Lon pushed long strands of tawny hair away from his face. “Danny said he’d do it for parts if Jupe helps him out after school a couple of days a week. Even then, it’ll take months.”

I laughed. Probably more like years.

“Hey,” Lon called out to Jupe after he ended his phone call. “It’s almost six. You ready to do this?”

Jupe ambled through garage, threading the GTO keys onto his Wolf Man key ring. “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot.”

I frowned at Lon. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I made a quick phone call earlier.”

“What kind of phone call?”

Jupe gleefully dangled his newly ringed keys in front of my face. “Let’s just say that you’re going to owe me big-time.”

“Pfft. I owe you zilch,” I said. “I helped pay for this junk heap already.” Okay, only a couple hundred dollars, which barely covered the tow up the cliff, but still.