Click here for Part I of 'Engines'...

Saeed grabbed the bucket from Indio and began pouring water into the radiator. As the bucket was emptying, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

     “Don Saeed,” said Indio.

     “What is it?” asked Saeed, still pouring water into the radiator.

Indio pointed to a puddle forming under the truck, “Mira, look.”

Saeed could hear the water trickling to the ground now. He put the bucket down and looked under the truck. A hose connected to the radiator had split. Saeed stood up, threw his arms in the air and shouted. He walked toward the factory’s office turning his back on the truck

     “¿Debo guardar el camión, Don Saeed? Do you want me to guard the truck?” asked Indio. His breath was labored.

     “I want you to shut up!” Saeed shouted back and kept walking toward the office.

When Saeed arrived at the office door, he unlocked it. He should have gone back to apologize to Indio, but he needed to cool off. The office looked unchanged since he used to come here as a kid. Why did his father have such a time getting with the times?

In the beginning, his father spent a lot of time at the factory getting the business started. There were times when the only way he got to see his father was when his mother took him to the plant. He had spent much of Saeed's childhood here, but his father rarely came out to this factory anymore. Employees ran it now, and the business headquarters moved into Tegucigalpa a few years ago. Saeed worked out of Tegus.

Now, although much of the plant was updated and modernized, his father’s office was the same. There wasn't even a computer in it. It was like pulling teeth getting him to modernize. Saeed had bought him a cell phone, his first, two years ago. Shortly after, he caught him at a restaurant asking the waiter if there was a phone he could use to place a local call. He was pretty sure the old man still didn't know how to use his email.

His uncle had always kept up with the latest technology. He was the first plantation in the area to digitize its shipping and inventory. They were using the latest cell phones and communication devices in the fields.

Saeed walked over to the desk where an old rotary phone sat. The air in the office was cooler. The smell of musty documents and machine oil. He wiped the lingering sweat from his forehead.

This office had served as his playground as a kid. His father was always glad to see him, and would have Indio take Saeed around to the water pumps and other big machines. He saw it as his mission to get Indio to laugh or smile. Indio always tried to keep a straight face, as if it were disrespectful to laugh at the boss's son, but Saeed would catch him off guard every once in a while.

He remembered the first time he had seen Indio at the factory. The Indio at the factory was different from uncle's plantation Indio. With his grandfather, you could see the respect he held in Indio's eyes. He had never seen Indio in dress clothes until his grandfather's funeral, and they still had the fold creases from taking them out of their packaging. His father had made sure that he had a seat near the family, an action that had annoyed Tío.

Saeed picked up the phone on his father’s desk and dialed his cousin’s number. There was no answer, so he left a voice mail. He sighed, picked up the phone and dialed the number to his house. Bertha, the housekeeper, answered the phone.

     “Halo?”

      “Bertha, is one of my brothers home?”

     “No.”

     “My mother or father?”

     “No, Señor.”

     “Ve!” spat Saeed. “If one of them comes home, have them call the office phone at the water plant.”

     “Si, Señor.”

He hung the phone up. Knowing that none of his brothers would answer their phones and his father wouldn't know how to answer his, he didn't bother to make any more calls. He didn’t want to go far in case the phone rang and it was his cousin or someone from his house. He walked over to the door. “Indio,” he yelled.

He looked around the office. His father was not organized. The new office was not like this. An administrative assistant made sure that everything was where it was supposed to be. Still, he missed the chaos. He missed watching his father run the plant out of this office. Saeed felt isolated in Tegucigalpa. He had to admit the office had a relaxing feel to it. Maybe he could start coming out here and get work done.

He stepped out of the office and back into the courtyard of the water plant. The afternoon sun was still hot. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve. Looking down at the grime left on the sleeve, he sighed. He would need a change of clothes.

     “Indio,” called Saeed.

     “Vengo,” came Indio's answer.

The old man walked to where Saeed stood. It irritated him that Indio had taken so long. He had slowed down. Saeed hadn’t noticed it as much before. He remembered Indio as quick and agile. He watched him as he came to a stop. The Indio standing in front of him was not the same Indio he remembered growing up. He watched Indio’s chest expand and contract as he tried to catch his breath. It was hot today, but a simple walk shouldn’t have exhausted him. He wondered what Indio could do if an actual intruder broke into the plant.

The change in Indio was not the only one he had started to notice here. The few times Saeed had come out to the plant recently, he had noticed difference in the other people working at the plant. His father’s workers seemed friendlier when he was younger; always glad to see little Saeed. He didn't trust the looks he got from workers now.

     “I need you to wait here, Indio,” explained Saeed. “If you hear the phone, answer it, and then come get me. I’ll be in the garage looking for a radiator hose that might fit the Land Cruiser.”

     “Si, Don Saeed.”

Saeed watched the old man standing in the sun. His legs shook and he was breathing hard. “Wait in my father’s office, Indio. There’s no need for you to stand in the heat.”

Indio stepped inside the shade of the office door. He took a bandana from his pocket, wiped his forehead, and leaned on the doorframe for support.

Saeed walked back to his truck. He took a pocketknife out of the glove compartment, and cut off the radiator hose. He took it with him and walked to the garage. It was where the delivery trucks and tankers were stored on weekends. He walked to the back bay where the trucks were worked on. Spare parts were stacked on shelves and hung on the walls. Spotting some hoses on one of the shelves, he compared them to the broken hose in his hand and found one that might fit.

Saeed used to work on the Land Cruiser often, but it had been a while. He and Indio restored it when he first got his license.

That was when the truck was sitting out behind the factory's garage, and Saeed asked his father if he could drive it. His father gave it to him, and Indio offered to help him work on it.

Indio was still helping Saeed’s father supervise the daily operation of the plant then. He taught Saeed everything about engines that summer. Together they brought the truck back to life. The truck that he had begged his father to get rid of was now the truck that he showed off to his friends. Juan Pablo had been excited, but his Uncle just laughed, “You guys can't rid of anything can you?” That summer working with Indio seemed to be the last time Saeed was comfortable around Indio.

It was the last time he spent any significant time with Indio, or with the water plant. Once they got the Cruiser running, he started hanging out with friends in town or driving down to his cousins house in San Pedro Sula for the weekend.

By that time, Indio was getting older too. Saeed’s father started to hire young professionals. Running the plant now consisted more paperwork and computer diagnostics then working with clunky machines. Indio was shifted to guard duty. It was less a job and more Saeed’s father making sure Indio had a place to sleep and eat.

Saeed returned to the Land Cruiser. The temperature seemed to be dropping, but he was still sweating. He grabbed a bottle of water from his truck. The water was warm, almost hot, but it kept him from turning to dust. He took a floor mat out of the truck, and put it beneath the Land Cruiser to lie back on.

He picked up a wrench, loosened the brackets that held the remnant of the old hose, and he put the new hose on one of the ends to see if it would fit. It did. Finally, thought Saeed looking at his watch. He realized he could still make San Pedro before dark and smiled. “I guess I’m not ready to get rid of the old heap yet,” he said to himself.

He finished fitting the hose on, got to his feet, and dusted himself off. Saeed got a couple bottles of water from the back of the truck and brought them around to the front. As he poured them into the radiator, he listened for the sound of water dripping into the dirt. There were no drips.

Hopeful, Saeed went to the driver’s side of the truck and got in. He turned the key and the engine roared. Hesitantly, he looked down at the temperature gauge and sighed in relief as it held steady in the middle. He would need more water for the radiator. Shutting the engine off, he got out of the truck.

Saeed looked at his watch again, and realized that he hadn’t heard from Indio. Picking up the bucket at the front of the truck, he walked to the office. Indio was no longer in the doorway. Saeed walked in. He was sitting, eyes closed, in Saeed’s fathers chair sleeping. The phone was ringing.

     “Wake up!” shouted Saeed. 

He kicked the chair. It tipped over, and Indio fell. Saeed went over to the phone and picked it up. It was his father. He explained the trouble the truck had given him and that it seemed to be running fine now. He told his father that he would call from San Pedro Sula, when he arrived, and hung up the phone. He looked down at Indio, not wanting to process what he'd just done. A sick feeling started to come over him.

Indio lay in a crumpled heap, rubbing his head. He did not look at Saeed. Slowly, he got up off the floor and dusted himself off. Walking over to where his hat had fallen, he slowly bent down, picked it up, and then walked out of the office.

Saeed watched Indio as he walked out. There was no anger on the old man’s face. There was no emotion at all.