Midnight

I've gotten a lot better at using rain days for my own benefit rather than lazing about. It helps when I have someone here putting the spurs to me when an opportunity arises. Today is no exception – a project waiting in the wings for a month is finally getting tackled, and the stack of boxes set off in the corner for equally as long will be cleared out.

Flipping the lights on in the storage room today demonstrated why I broke down and bought new LED light fixtures; less than half of the old fluorescents buzzed to life on the first try. A few flips of the switch got most of them going – albeit with a fair amount of flickering from the bulbs themselves, even when lit up.

This lighting project was Midnight's suggestion, even though she doesn't need light in here to see with her eyes. Sometimes, she doesn't even bother flicking on the switch. But I think I know the real underlying agenda – replacing light fixtures will require moving shelves, which makes a perfect catalyst for better organization.

Now, I'm all for self-improvement, and I don't mind this particular light project that Midnight has spear-headed – but I'm not going to bring up the need to move shelves. She's going to have to speak up and force it on me. In the meantime, I'll play oblivious and tackle the lights I can easily reach.

While I unhook the last chain holding this particular fixture to the ceiling, Midnight already has the replacement hovering in the air nearby. So far, this has been seamless and quick work with the routine we've hammered out early on.

"I'm surprised, I expected to hear some bitching out of you with all of this busy work being heaped on," Midnight teases while exchanging the fixtures with me.

"It's not been bad at all. My biggest concern was how these old lights were getting electricity – I knew some of them were wired in, but I wasn't sure how many," I explain, finagling the old chains to the new light. "I'll probably have to wire a couple of outlets in for some lights, but most of these appear to be plug and play – and they made these new ones capable of being daisy daisy-chained, which is nice."

"And there was a mix and match in here because...?" Midnight trails off, and when I look down at her, I find a look of mild disapproval on her face.

"Hey, this wasn't my doing. Remember I bought this joint – all I've ever done is change lightbulbs in here. A prior owner did the lighting," I protest. Despite that, Midnight narrows her eyes, trying to force a confession out of me beyond the one I had on offer.

"Hey, don't look at me in that tone of voice," I demand, freeing one hand in order to point at her. Midnight's response is to focus and redouble her efforts, making her eyes glow brighter. "Hey, indoor voice, missy."

Unsatisfied thus far, Midnight relaxes her gaze – only to make this area almost light up with a blue glow as her eyes open wide. Since two can play this silly game, I don't offer up a warning before I plug in the new light.

Bright white light pieces through the dim glow Midnight provides – and forces her eyes to snap shut while she recoils and grunts in discomfort. "You're a dickhead," she mutters, blinking repeatedly to get her eyesight to refocus and adjust from such a shock.

"Sorry. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes." Getting to feed Middie one of her favorite lines now feels oh-so-satisfying while I clamber down the short ladder.

"Really? That's never stopped you," she fires back.

"That's because I like stupid prizes."

Despite the mild inconvenience I just caused her, my comment garners a snort of amusement while I shift my ladder over to the next accessible light.

Midnight makes her way toward the doorway to toss out the old fixture and fetch a new one. She pauses for a moment, looking over the tired metal shelf I had to move around for the next light, and my heart starts to sink. "Maybe we ought to do some organization today while we're at it. Might be easier to reach some of the lights if we can move the shelves."

I don't say anything while I climb up the ladder and focus on my work, while Midnight disappears beyond the threshold for a brief moment. A clatter of metal into a pile echoes outside before she returns with the replacement, looking up at me expectantly. "I know you heard me," she states.

"I never said I didn't," I counter, putting on my best poker face.

Midnight stares, awaiting some further words from me, but I have nothing to offer; I refuse to say yes or no on the matter. She soon picks up on my plan and sighs. "Why must you be so obtuse?"

"Because you're acute." Confusion wreaks havoc on Midnight's face as she tries to understand the comment. Eager to help, I point at her. "A. Cute," I repeat, emphasizing the syllables.

"You know, I could just... accidentally ram this up your ass when I try to pass it off to you," Midnight calmly quips, twisting the light fixtures in her possession as she ogles it over with curiosity.

"Damn. You know the perfect way to start me up, don't you?"

"Alright, let's go for the more direct approach then," she mutters, sidestepping my idiotic comment. "I seem to recall many incidents of you whining and crying about having to stumble around in here in search of a part. We can easily solve that today – and as you said, this has been going well thus far replacing lights, and we have nothing to do outside today thanks to the rain."

"But moooom, this is supposed to be an easy day!" I whine in exaggeration. Midnight rolls her eyes but otherwise is unimpressed with the feeble retort I have, leading to my own sigh of defeat. "If that's really what you wanna do today, we can at least get started."

Opening the metaphorical door just a crack is enough for Midnight to instantly perk up with a satisfied grin as we swap light fixtures yet again. It means she's going to knock that door down and barge in – I just know it.

With my fate sealed, I realize tearing apart this room is only part of the equation, and I assume Midnight understands that. The parts in here are organized by make – but the general layout is the biggest issue for starters. The shelves themselves – the ones not mounted to the walls – have been dragged in here over time and placed haphazardly. The end result is a layout just short of a literal maze.

"If we go forward with this, what's your plan?" I holler as Midnight heads out with the old light. "Are we just moving shelves around, or something bigger in mind?"

I watch as Midnight slowly eases her way back into the room. "I... didn't really have a particular idea," she reluctantly admits. "I just know what we have is a mess. I thought maybe you already had some idea going forward for the future."

I shake my head. "No, I hadn't thought that far ahead. Seems we got a bit of a problem before we even start."

Disappointment forces Midnight's muzzle into a frown, but she accepts my deduction with a slight nod. "Guess maybe we will wait for another day. I'll give it some thought."

I step off the ladder and look around the room. With brighter light to keep the shadows at bay, it becomes clear this room is no longer filled to capacity as it once was. That watershed moment was from Midnight's efforts in pulling apart engines, something she hasn't done for a couple of months now; in that time, parts have only gone out the door, with no cycle of replenishment.

We don't have the spare time to pick engines apart like that these days. While the storage room was once a haven for parts in stock, it's increasingly become an afterthought – a quick look to see if a required component is in here, before heading out back to freshly pluck it from a donor.

"Maybe we need to change our thinking on the storeroom, Mid," I decide to speak up. "You think maybe we could start using this room to offload parts at the end of the day? Gotta be better than errant piles on the floor."

"You wanna do away with tearing down engines, huh?" Midnight asks. She quickly shakes her head. "Nevermind, we haven't been doing that lately."

"Exactly. And a fair bit of what's left in here hasn't moved since the day it was dropped off. What do we sell as far as storage inventory is concerned, any idea?"

Midnight purses her lips at my question. "Not anything in detail. I can tell you for certain we go through a lot of timing chain covers across all makes. I'd throw in oil pans and stock intake manifolds as popular items, too. But as far as internals like camshafts, they tend to languish."

Funny enough, my eyes happen to fall upon a bumpstick lying on the shelf next to me. The dust buildup and the spiderweb hanging off the snout are good references for Midnight's assessment.

But Midnight isn't finished – instead, she takes a step toward another shelf, lined with cylinder heads and valve train assemblies. "Heads seem to depend on the make. We don't sell much of Ford or Chevy heads unless it's a specific niche engine – which makes sense when you consider the aftermarket supply for them," she continues, rambling as if caught in her own little world now. "Lincoln, Cadillac, some Olds and Pontiac and oddball makes still sell pretty well, and anything 'factory stock' high performance like Chrysler 340 heads with their high flow design is worth keeping around."

"Damn, I thought you couldn't give me any details, nerd."

"Shut up, asshat," Midnight shoots back, finishing off her 'witty' retort with a childish blep of her tongue. "But yeah, there's plenty of stuff in here that may just end up collecting dust for eternity. We might be better off repurposing this room – and clearing house to start."

"I can jive with that – but it's probably not a bad thing to keep some stuff on hand, since we've already got it here, right?"

That gets a slight hesitance from Midnight. "I certainly wouldn't throw anything away. But we're acknowledging that these aren't hot items, John," she replies, poking at a connecting rod collection. "I think both you and I can agree with that in mind, parts that we pull that are already sold deserve more organization and better placement than piled in an errant corner of the shop."

"Yeah, I really don't like doing that. Usually, someone starts yelling at me when there's difficulty finding something later on," I pout, lowering my head.

"You aren't that soft. That wouldn't fool anyone," she spouts at my gesture. Rather than wait for me to come up with something else silly, Midnight sets to work grabbing a handful of internal engine parts off of the shelf closest to her. With a new strategy in mind, Midnight trots off with a renewed vigor toward the exit into the shop.

"Make sure you put those on some junk carpeting and not bare concrete," I call after her.

Please – don't insult me," Midnight shouts back, feigning hurt in her voice. "I'm no rookie."

Following her precedent, I grab a couple of camshafts off of another shelf and head out the door, sidestepping as Midnight makes her way back. After the first two trips, we manage to find a rhythm where we aren't having to resort to stopping or fleet footwork to avoid each other.

I'm helping, but Midnight is accomplishing most of this part shuttle. That's not my goal – it just happens that Midnight's levitation means she can carry more items than my two hands can, and keep the parts separated from one another. Maybe not particularly important for some parts, but nicking the lobes of a camshaft has the potential to make them useless paperweights.

Part of this project is done within a half hour – all the parts being evicted from the store room have found a temporary home in a corner of the shop. That being said, it's now a matter of moving everything left to one particular area and shuffling the now empty shelves around.

While work focus and movement have led to a lack of conversation, my brain has continued to run this whole time. I still haven't forgotten the rather odd exchange between Star and Midnight just before Teddy pulled out of the drive to head home. I haven't pried about it at all, and Midnight hasn't mentioned it since that night.

Today is going well enough and providing a distraction... might be worth trying my luck. At the very least, I should find some entertainment in how she goes about trying to dismiss my questions.

"So, what's the word between you and Starla?"

"Hm?"

"Something she said she hadn't forgotten and was gonna work on when she got home? I didn't understand the context of that."

I look back at Midnight just in time to see her freeze in place for a moment, clenching her jaw while trying to think of a cover. "It's hard to say. We had a lot of discussions about different ideas and projects," she answers back.

"Yeah, but she took the time to roll the passenger window down to relay her message. That had to have been something involving you, right?"

"Mmm, I don't really know," she rapidly offers back to me. "I guess it surprised me so much, I didn't think to ask – but it will come up again, I'm sure."

"Maybe I'll help you out and message her."

"Really? You would be that bold?" she shoots back, turning her entire body to face me. Surprisingly, she's remaining calm with little emotion.

There was once a time I could get under her skin with outlandish suggestions like I just proposed. It seems that's not going to happen today. "I've run out of tricks, haven't I?" I ask, letting my shoulders slump in defeat.

"It's easier to smell your bullshit when I know you aren't that nosy and disrespectful," she explains. "If you were that much of an asshole, you'd have already done it when you know I'm not likely to tell you."

"So you do admit there's something of significance there?" I prod, seeing an avenue open up before me with her explanation.

"You already know the answer."

"You're just taking the fun out of this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Now you're the one squirming for my amusement," she says with a cackle as her face finally breaks into a wide smirk. "Now I see why you do this."

"I don't like this game," I pout.

"Not my problem. But I'll give you one little tidbit to tide you over."

"I'm all ears." The fact she's willing to divulge anything is a bit surprising.

"If a package shows up addressed to me, don't open it."

There goes my surprise, and in its place comes more disappointment. "You've been giving this some thought on when I would ask you about it, haven't you?"

Midnight turns away to resume shuffling parts around amongst shelves. "Maybe."

That settles it – with her attention grasped by something else and the noisy clatter of metal on thin metal shelves, I lean toward her, reach out with my hand, and flick her ear.

Midnight jumps in surprise, followed quickly by the spastic twitching of her ear in response to my irritation. "Prick," she grumbles unhappily, raising a hoof to her ear.

"Oh come on. That didn't hurt."

Turning – and minding her horn – Midnight gives me a firm headbutt right in my side as retaliation.

"Alright, that was more aggressive than what I did," I whine, holding my side and cowering in an exaggerated display.

"Yeah, yeah, " she dismisses me, flaring open a wing to pat me on the back as she turns back for the exit. "Come on, we've cleared enough space to start bringing in order pulls on this side of the room. It makes more sense to have order parts closer to the door since they're guaranteed temporary."

"Wait a minute now. Who made you boss hoss?" I protest, just to see what response I get.

"I did. Someone has to take the reins here," she quips, making sure to flash a grin at the end as she emphasizes her pun.

"That was fucking terrible."

"So was yours."

"I made mine sound casual, so it worked well."

Rather than argue with words, Midnight's eyebrow raises upon my defense, before shaking her head with a sharp disapproval.

Undaunted and following her lead, I widen my eyes, smile wide, and nod my head with energy to match her gesture.

"Compelling argument. But you're still wrong, dumbass," she shoots back.

"You're being a real meanie today."

Without another word, Midnight walks out of the room, pausing for a moment to gesture for me to follow with her wing before disappearing around the corner.

I have a feeling this project isn't going to just get started today – Midnight fully intends to complete it. While I would have liked today to be an 'easy' day like an average rainy day, seeing Midnight this motivated and confident in getting something like this accomplished is worth the effort. I just have a feeling I'll be more tired by this evening than if we had worked on pulling parts out in the yard.

But I think the results going forward will be worth it, too. I head out and around the corner just as Midnight did a moment ago. Much to my confusion, she's not sifting through the pile of parts destined for order fulfillment. In fact, as I scan the shop floor...

Where the hell did she go? I saw her turn right...

"Midnight?"

"Yes?"I about jump out of my skin as Middie's voice casually answers back right behind me.

"God damn, you son of a—" I whirl around just as she gleefully trots in place in celebration, hoofsteps ringing out on the concrete less than a foot away from me.

"Haha, that was too easy," she gloats. "My god, I swear you jumped almost a foot in the air."

"How the fuck did you even manage to get—" As I start to ask my question, Midnight flares her wings out, continuing to beam with pride as I try to get my heart rate down.

"Other than that simple maneuver..." she trails off, slowly taking a step forward with precision – light enough that not a sound comes from her hoof. "I still got it."

"You won't be that giddy when I have a heart attack from you sneaking around like that, jerk," I mumble, finding myself a bit embarrassed now.

"There's plenty of cars and car batteries around – I'm sure I can Jumpstart your ticker if it comes to that," she jokes, refusing to come off of her high.

"Guess I need to do some online shopping. See if I can find a cute collar with a bell that I've threatened to buy you before."