#ThursdayDoors #writingprompt

I’ll post my pictures first, so you can look at them and move on, if you don’t want to read the saga of That Saturday.

I love Little Free Libraries, and I love this variation: Little Free Pantries. This was in the library’s parking lot.

I knew Dan would want me to snap this railroad track, so I did.

And dig this haul: a mill, a bridge, and a house on the side.

Okay, the saga.

The Saga of Jasper, Indiana

So friend, fellow writer, and business partner T. Lee Harris and I decided to participate in an Author’s Fair at the Jasper Library. Since I was on the way, she and our roadie picked me up in their Volvo station wagon, which was loaded with books and book racks. It was half an hour from their house to mine, and an hour on to Jasper.

When we got there, I went in to sign us in and find out where our table was. The roadie unloaded the car and brought the stuff in and T and I unpacked and arranged it.

The roadie said, “Do you know why I brought the stuff from the parking lot instead of pulling up to the door like I usually do?”

I did not.

The reason was that the car had gotten us to the venue and now wouldn’t start.

We didn’t call for a jump because, once they got the car going, we would have to load up our stuff and leave, so we waited three hours until the event was over and we had re-packed the Volvo.

The guy with the jumper box arrived. The car didn’t need a jump. It needed a new starter.

Our roadie could easily get a starter and had the tools and the know-how to do the repair. But not in Jasper.

We would need a tow.

Because of this and that and the other thing, they couldn’t afford a tow from Jasper to New Albany, so I said I would pay for it. I mean, I was sitting in a dead car, too. So blah blah blah we decided to get the tow to my house, since it was closer and therefore cheaper, and I would drive them home from there in my own car.

They got onto their insurance’s app and filled in the request. Every time I put my card info in, the roadie’s phone rebooted. Every. Single. Time.

So the roadie CALLED the insurance help line and a man with a heavy Indian accent informed us that his name was Chris and he would like to help us.

Meanwhile, my bank texted me to see if I had charged $389 and change in Jasper, which is the amount the app had quoted. I told them I had.

Then Chris told us the tow would be $391 and change, and my bank refused it because it was a different amount.

I had another card, and that went through. We would get a tow.

In two hours.

The roadie told Chris there would be three of us riding, and Chris assured us that they would send a big enough truck.

Chris did not tell the towing service that there would be three riders, and they sent a truck with room for one.

The roadie called a friend, arranged for the friend to drive an hour and a half to come pick him and T up, and sent me home with the car.

Meanwhile, the library had closed, and we were standing out in the cold. It had been warm when we left home so we hadn’t brought our jackets. By this time, it was rainy and windy and a bit above freezing.

Fortunately, there was a restaurant next door to the library where T and the roadie could wait.
I left home at 7:30 am and got home at about 5:30 pm. They left home about 7:00 am and got home a little after 7:00 pm.

We sold one $5 bookmark.

Part II

The roadie bought a new starter and brought it and his tools over to my house to fix the Volvo. He got the old starter off. The nuts from the old starter wouldn’t fit on the new starter. With all the nuts Charlie left us, none of them fit. So I drove the roadie to the auto parts store to get new nuts for the new starter and he installed it.

The car wouldn’t start.

He futzed around and futzed around and got it started. He said he thought there was a short in there somewhere. He and the Volvo went home.

My daughters said, “Don’t go anywhere in that car again. Promise?”

It’s a lovely car and I love it, but no, I won’t go anywhere in it again.

The End

I’ll have more pictures from Jasper next week but not, please, Jesus, more of the saga.

A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: stuck

MA