“This thing hasn’t run in fifteen years. Why bother?â€?

She didn’t look up. “We should have been gone two days ago,â€? I pestered, “but you insisted –“

“Hand me the mallet,â€? she ordered, pointing but still not looking up.

“You insisted on wasting time on this rusty shell of a -“

Her slight frame wobbled as she used momentum to drive home the mallet.

“- broken, worn out truck that probably has no life in it -“

A clang and a muffled curse as her dropped wrench bounced off the oil pan.

“- and you’re not even listening to me!â€? But as I spat my last words of protest, a muted orange glow began to emanate from within the cylinder block. There was a sharp blast of intense heat, and for a moment she appeared to go limp. Her eyes went dark as her focus became more intense. The engine struggled to turn over once, then twice, finally heaving to life in a belch of smoke on the third try.

She emerged from under the hood, not nearly as shocked as I was. “Now ask me how I did that,â€? she grinned.