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Crossed Road

 


“Is the tube rightly plugged?” Henry shouted as he struggled to screw the valve in place but failed at it again. Unaware of the blotch of oil on his backhand, he wiped at the balls of sweats laced on his forehead and left a smudge of oil stain on it instead. The 5 by 8 spanner wrench he has in his hand won’t bolt the loosened valve, leaving him frustrated. 

“Is it plugged?” Simeon asked Henry from under the minivan where he laid to his back holding a rag to cover the leaking valve. With a sudden gush, a spurt of engine oil poured from the open valve into his mouth as his hand slipped from the opening. He scampered out from under the van, spitting profusely to get oil out of his mouth. 

“Sorry Simeon, take some water,” Elizabeth said as she offered him a bottle of water. 

“Sorry guys, but is there any progress with the repair?” She further inquired. 

“I don’t see this van going anywhere. We do not have the right tools to fix the damage,” Henry replied. 

“Jesus! But this is the middle of nowhere. We won’t get a mechanic nearby, and our destination is still far from here. We are running out of time,” Deborah said in a worried tone as she emerged from the bush with a huge stone to clog the tires. 

“What should we do now? Can we get help nearby?” Elizabeth asked the rhetoric question to no one in particular.

There was a noisy rumble from a nearby bush and a haggard-looking farmer rode his rickety bicycle out from a bush path into the main road. He dusted his clothes upon reaching the main road and rode the opposite way from the van. 

Simeon heaved in relief as he screamed to get the man’s attention, “Hello, Mister!” 

The man stopped riding as if to help but mumbled out aloud, “fools, they are going to a village to pray for miracles and save others while they can’t save themselves.” He let out a loud hiss and continued on his way.


To be continued!

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