It started out as a pretty ordinary battery jump call. Professor Abernathy was trying to leave Sanctuary Hills University for the last time until fall, and of course her aging Volvo chose that moment to fail to start. For a call like this, she was in the shop’s pickup truck, instead of the usual tow truck.
“At least it’s a nice enough day,” the professor remarked, as Georgia pulled a set of jumper cables out of the truck. They were neatly coiled, held in their loop by a wide velcro strap. Georgia made a non-committal humming noise in response, and Professor Abernathy seemed unlikely to be dissuaded from talking. “You know, if you have to be stuck outside for an hour or two.”
Georgia grimaced, but said nothing. It had taken her only forty-five minutes from the time she received the call to arriving here, but there wasn’t any sense correcting her. And besides, she might not have meant anything by the comment. Some people just hyperbolize. Instead, she continued her work. It was a trivial job, but being stranded was no fun and most people would be more appreciative of this than if she had rebuilt their engine. Luckily the parking lot had thinned out, and it was easy to put the nose of the pickup right up against the Volvo. She started the truck’s engine. The radio immediately kicked on, crooning at her "For better or worse,
till death do us part..." and Georgia practically punched the power button to cut it off.
“You’re a life-saver, Georgie!” the Professor called out after her Volvo followed suit. She stepped back out of her vehicle as it idled, to shake Georgia’s hand.
“Oh, it was nothing much, ma’am,” Georgia averted her gaze as she began to wrap her jumper cables back up, just as neat as she had gotten them. She was looking down at her hands when the first raindrop hit her on the back of the head. There was only time enough to lift her head up in surprise before a sheet of rain washed over them both.
“Oh now, and now I’ve got you stuck out in the rain with me!” The Professor seemed genuinely distressed by the predicament, but Georgia shrugged it off easily, trying to back toward her truck to get in and out of the rain, but feeling like she couldn’t end the interaction with a customer.
“Not really, ma’am, I’d probably be out here doing something, if not this. I reckon I was gonna get wet today,” as she continued the conversation, she held the rolled jumper cables over her head, but they were paltry cover. “But you get yourself home, I’ll be alright,” even as she said it, a crack of thunder burst from somewhere to the west.
The two parted, and Georgia climbed into the truck’s cab, trying to wipe some of the water from her face and hair. She flipped her windshield wipers on, and through the clearing glass, she spotted a handful of indistinct forms hobbling from the quad, apparently carrying heavy loads between them. Georgia put the truck in gear and trundled it across the lot to the edge where they would come off the grass. As they approached, she saw that they were all carrying furniture, a surprisingly large couch, some kind of desk chair and a shelf.
It was pretty apparent where they were heading, Georgia recognized Emily Steward’s truck in the parking lot. It already had a range of different pieces of furniture in the bed, and she guessed that Miss Steward was collecting furniture for her store, probably from students who were moving out today. Before she could stop herself, Georgia had already rolled down her window, and called out to the group.
“Y’all need a hand?”
They did. Not realizing it was going to rain, they had grabbed more than they could haul back to the shop in one trip, intending to leave it in the parking lot and come back in half an hour or so. Georgia grabbed a rain poncho from under her seat, and helped load the couch into the back of her own truck, throwing a tarp over it(wet as it already was). She followed the J.W. Steward’s truck back to Town Square, putting the radio back on to listen to Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealer’s Wheel.
Soon, Georgia was tracking water and mud inside with the rest of the hastily hired crew, holding up one end of the couch as they brought it in the back door. Even as Miss Steward came through with a rolling desk chair, she was calling up to the front of the shop.
“Sam! We need towels back here!” Under her breath she continued, “Unless you can dry up some water with magic…”
Georgia pretended not to hear this last bit, and instead joined the two college boys who were looking forlornly out the open door into the downpour.
“C’mon,” she said simply, “There’s more,” and she walked back through the rain to the truck to grab the next piece.
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