Crying Solves Eveything: Part 2

Bryce got into the car with a little, confused smirk on his face. He relayed to me what had just happened. Since we really had no other option, we counted two house down from the gas station and parked our broken down car in front of it. It was just a house. No signs that a mechanic lived there at all.

"What do you think?" Bryce said to me. "Should we let this guy touch our car?"

"What else are we going to do." I said, nearly panicked now.

"Okay." And he headed off for the infamous front door. He knocked on the door and waited and not one came so he proceeded to walk to the back of the house to the garage. As he disappeared behind the house I watched as an old man opened the door and looked out. I could tell in an instant that he was without his sight. I was in the car, but I jumped out the greet the man at the door who looked so confused and lost.

"Hello," I called as I approached the front steps. "I hear that you can help us with our car. We are trying to get to Ekalaka and our car keeps overheating."

The old man replied, "Well, I might be able to help. What kinda car you got."

Bryce must have heard us from the back of the house and walked around the corner at this moment. He was very cordial and introduced me and himself to the man. His name was Dean.

"I hear you are the mechanic in town," Bryce said.

"What's left of him," Dean replied.

I will shorten the rest of the story for you. I would like to repeat the whole of the conversation we had with Dean, of Reed Point Montana. But, my post here would get pretty lengthy and I know you all want to know how this story ends.

Dean instructed Bryce to move the car to the back of the house and he would have a try at it. We got to the back and popped the hood. Bryce told him he thought the problem might be the thermostat just needed changed. Since that really was the only direction that we had, we went for it. Bryce had, luckily, bought a new thermostat on our way out of Idaho. Bryce didn't know exactly where it was and how to replace it. So, Dean put out his hands and felt around in our hot engine for the thermostat. He eventually found where it goes and got the tools out of his pocket to remove it. Between Dean relaying how to do things, and Bryce's eyes helping him, they got a new thermostat on the engine. Then they filled the car up with anti-freeze and we were on our way.

Since I have shortened the story considerably, you have missed out on some interesting conversation. Here is a little taste of what was spoke.

Bryce - "Dean, how long have you been doing mechanic work?."
Dean - "Too **** long."
Bryce - "Do you live alone?"
Dean - "Yeah, then those **** women can't be movin' the furniture all around."

Dean - "This engine's so hot it doesn't take me fingers long to see their way around."

Bryce - "We're headed to Ekalaka, do you know where that is."
Dean - "He** yeah. My Mother used to teach school there."
Natali - "Wow, how long ago was that."
Dean - "Ah he**, too long ago."

As we headed off on the road, we were happy to see that the temperature gauge was staying close to mid range and we couldn't smell the antifreeze smell too strongly. Dean, the blind mechanic, must have been an angel because he fixed our car and got us on our way safely. Then again, maybe not.

A big truck pulled to the side of us and a lady pokes her whole upper half out of the truck and yells to us that our car was smoking. We pulled over, and sure enough, over heating again. We poured some more water into the car and prayed that we could get to the next town in one whole piece. We also prayed that the mechanic in the town ahead was someone who could see our problem and fix it quickly.

This is when the tears started edging their way for the ends of my lashes. I was quite upset over the whole unfortunate situation and I was cold. I wanted so much to be strong and keep my eyes dry, but it was proving difficult. And, after a short while, big droplets of wet dripped down my cheeks and smear my make-up horrendously.

We pulled off in Columbus, Montana and found a mechanic. Anther mechanic. And this particular mechanic didn't have a sight impediment. So, four or five hours later, and after many tears had fallen from my eyes, we had a fixed car. We hoped.

I can't imagine that my crying helped the mechanics or Bryce fix my car any faster, or cause the car to miraculously heal itself. But, one thing can be said for my red puffy eyes, and salty face. I sure felt better. This is a phenomenon that men will never fully understand. Why do women cry? It will never totally sink into their brains that this act of emotion is an extremely relieving outlet of built up . . . anything. I cry at some of the smallest things, but I often feel much better having let it all out.

Ladies, I have come a realization. The longer you hold it in, the harder it falls. Let those tears roll and let them flow freely. You can do it where the men never have to witness it, but just do it. I know that those tears that fell on the road to Montana were my way of solving the crisis. I couldn't fix the car, I couldn't do a dang thing actually. But, I could cry.

And, believe me, I did.