The Repair He Was Sure He Could Handle Himself
He met me at the end of the driveway with his hand up against the sun and gave me the verdict before I had the truck in park: it's got one more summer in it. Late May, the first real hot stretch of the year, the kind of week where every unit that was going to show its age shows it all at once. Brick ranch on the west side of Kingfisher, built in the seventies, with a condenser out back that went in about twenty-two years ago. The fellow who owns it is late sixties, retired, keeps a garden you can see from the road, and keeps his own equipment running the way men his age were raised to. He had…
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