Boris #4

They drove along. Tom began his story.
"I was raised by my mom and grandparents. I grew up and went into the Army. I signed up when I was seventeen so that I had about ten days between graduation and boot camp. I was a mechanic and I really liked working on anything that rolled. I re-enlisted, but in my sixth year, my leg got tore up and I got discharged. 20% disability. I worked out here in a shop and when the owner died, he left it to me. such as it was.....I got married that year to my girlfriend. She's from Louisiana and the best cook in the world. We have two daughters, Lucy, She's seven, and
Fran, she's twelve. ..Fran is short for Francesca. That's pretty much all there is to me. It ain't much, but I never wanted a whole lot. You might want to hold pressure on that wound and try to keep still. That's all I'm sayin'."
Later, they were parked in front of Tom's shop. "Meyer's Automotive". "I kept the name, because it only seemed right. I really looked up to him. He treated me like a son, no offense"
"Nah, that's cool"
It was dark now and they were sitting on the warm hood of the car. Butch counted at least three shooting stars.
"What'd you wish for? Tom asked.
" Another chance"
Tom turned slowly to face him. As though with another voice he asked, "What's the worst thing you ever did?
The falling star overhead stopped in its tracks. The world stopped and he turned his thoughts inward. He had been lying on the floor bleeding for two minutes...