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Brian and Jose were the only two still following Mr. Godfrey around school with blank stares on their faces. A bell rang and students filed into the hallways as Mr. Godfrey ushered them towards an exit.
"Hey, Jose," shouted a student. "Where you going? Are we meeting up later."
Jose stared back blankly, causing Mr. Godfrey to step in between a say interject. "They have detention. Do you want to join him?"
"No ... uh ... no, sir," said the student, retreating back into the crowd.
"Keep walking," he said to the two hypnotized guys as they headed outside. On one side of the parking lot was a shed that the school used for storing their buses, vans, and other vehicles. It was also where they taught a few classes occasionally, in particular the automotive club. Outside, there was a small truck with straw bales and bags of feed in the back. Mr. Godfrey turned to Jose, "You, get in the truck and wait." Jose walked towards the truck and mindlessly open the door and waited in the passenger seat. Brian and Mr. Godfrey kept walking through the open garage doors shop. There was a run down car with its hood open and engine parts and supplies scattered on work benches. Mr. Godfrey pushed a button next to the door and started lowering the doors. He walked over to the car and turned the key and the car revved to life.
"All right, kid. This is your assignment. Get under the car. Pay attention. Get your hands dirty and you'll make a good mechanic."
Brian stared blankly back, still deep in trance.
"Are you stupid!? Get under the car," said Mr. Godfrey, stepping closer. The boy looked scared and confused. "Here, let me help." He walked over to Brian, dipped one of his hands in some motor oil and wiped it onto the sleeve of Brian's shirt. He held his finger next to Brian's face and said, "Breathe it in, boy. Breathe deep. Relax. Breathe." Brian's eyes seemed to roll back into his head in ecstasy. Mr. Godfrey wiped the rest of the oil onto Brian's cheek and forehead.
"Your shirt is dirty, boy. You better keep it clean," he said. "How about you take it off and get under the car?"
Brian's hands moved slowly and he pulled off his shirt.
"Good, now lie down. Breathe. Relax. Just lie down on the dolly over there."
He knelt down and rolled onto the metal cart with wheels. Gently, Mr. Godfrey wheeled him under the car.
"Just like tucking you into bed. You're tired. Relax. When you wake up, you will be relaxed. Just keep breathing."
The exhaust fumes and heat from the engine made Brian feel more relaxed. He hear Mr. Godfrey turn on the radio of the car and blast it. The fumes started to make him go dizzy. He saw a bright light and heard a door slam. Mr. Godfrey had left the garage and he felt like he was paralyzed underneath the car. The radio seemed to fill his head with sound and he felt like his body was melting away. He blacked out.
---
When he woke up and saw the underbelly of the car above him and heard the engine rumbling. He instinctively felt his arms and legs rolling the dolly back into the garage. He was surprised because he wasn't sure why his body was moving, but it was like he was in a dream. His body was moving but he was not in control, just on autopilot. He opened the door and turned the key off, listening to the engine wind down. He walked over to the hood of the car, grabbed a rag, and began working on the engine. He look at his hands and realized that they were black with oil and grease. He was shirtless and his chest and arms were covered in sweat and grime. His baggy jeans were barely held up by his belt. He looked down at his body and saw that his waist and torso were chiseled and toned. He lifted a tire off off the ground nearby and felt his arms swell up with muscle. He slid the tire into place, grabbed a air wrench, and zipped the bolts into place. The car looked like it was complete, so he walked over to the sink to clean up. He couldn't help but stare at his body in the mirror and felt aroused when he ran his hands over his sweaty body. Some part of him was resisting this transformation and he knew that this was all a dream or hallucination. But his body was beyond control, and he seemed to be remembering new things about his past. He took shop classes in high school, had always been interested in motors and engines, he could recite facts about cars and trucks, and even watched NASCAR from time to time. Next to the mirror, he saw a hook with a pair of military dog tags hanging. The name on them was "Bruce Torkelson," which seemed familiar to him. Instinctively, he slung the chain around his neck and felt the cold metal resting on his chest. A wave of new memories washed over him. He had enlisted in the army right out of high school. He had been a mechanic for a few years. He never saw active duty, but worked on equipment and vehicle maintenance. His army buddies had given him the nickname "Tork" and he had grown used to it over the years. He served his duty and now worked at a local mechanic's shop. He grabbed a camo t-shirt from the bench, slid it over his head and headed over to the door. He flicked the lights off in the garage and walked outside. He could barely remember his high school days, but that didn't matter anymore. Parked outside was a Harley-Davidson. He turned the key, revved the engine, and cruised out of the parking lot.