54
PARTISAN REVIEW
Joe shoved his car right up against the rear of the truck.
I took a good grip on the radiator cap, leaned forward and with
my wrench in the other hand, tried to open the valves to the out–
lets. It was too dark to see what I was doing, so I let go of
Joe's car, found the nut with my hand. Everything was going
along fine, when the truck began to roll down a hill.
We were going through a wooded stretch. Joe was doing
his best but he couldn't see that he was over a yard behind the
truck. W
f}
kept rolling, ·picking up speed all the way down.
When we hit the bottom, I was almost parellel to the ground, my
hands holding on to the truck, my feet hooked into the bumper of
Joe's car. There was nothing to do but keep on hanging, hoping
all the while. We flashed into open country, and I guess Joe
saw how I was fixed, for he suddenly gave his car the gas, and
I could stand up again.
The second attempt was successful. I opened all four out–
lets, stuck my hand under each one to be sure the oil was coming
all right. The front of Joe's car was hot as hell, but I lay on it
as though it were my bride. Gradually we fell away from the
truck, shot up a side road and stopped.
I got off, lighted a cigarette, went back to see how the truck
was making out. The state highway department was going to
cuss plenty when it tried to clean that cement road.
