Midnight

The plan to expedite work on the Chrysler is in full swing; that combined with the prior hills of progress like engine assembly and painting having been crested makes it feel like someone has smashed the fast-forward button on a remote.

The new whitewall tires showed up just yesterday – I hadn't expected shipping to be that speedy, but that's no problem. Over the period of the last two or three days, Midnight has taken the time to clean and polish all four wire wheels on the car, and with how they have turned out, the new tires are really gonna make the whole setup pop.

The funny thing is, Midnight only started to clean one out of curiosity. I certainly didn't spur her to tackle the project, but the sparkling initial results motivated her to finish one, then move on to another... though to be fair, there hasn't been much else to work on the car at this juncture; the necessary bit of work made a nice distraction for Middie from other matters.

She did a better job than I could have ever mustered, and she went above and beyond the call of duty. A polishing cloth with her ability to get it around every wire to clean up the last bit of tarnish and dirt made surprisingly quick and detailed work of it all. My fingers hurt just thinking about trying to match what she did.

But with a few days behind us now to ensure the paint is cured, the main event is getting the engine back in the car. With the removal process under our belts in the not-too-distant past, I expect the installation to go smoother. Every car has its nuances in removing certain parts – we will take our time, but I feel confident all those oddities will be remembered and easily addressed once we get to them.

But I have to admit, there's a new wrinkle in this process – the fresh paint on the engine. Even though touch-up will be a cinch and the confines of the engine bay ensure most sins will be hidden, no one wants to mar up new color. So anticipation has blended in with anxiety once again...

And both emotions are rising as I watch Midnight fasten a chain to the engine block. With that done, she turns to me expectantly, tilting her head. "You aren't gonna get your panties in a bundle like last time, are you?"

"Have we installed an engine before?"

"You know what I mean – when we pulled it out."

"Oh. Anyway, I always get my panties in a bundle. It's cheaper than buying em one pair at a time."

Midnight rolls her eyes and huffs at my wisecrack. "That was fucking awful."

"I thought you might appreciate the joke – whoops." I shrug my shoulders, but can't prevent myself from cracking a grin at her response.

"You should fetch the engine hoist before I smack the shit out of you," she coos mockingly, batting her eyes.

Having had my fun and knowing the limits, I salute at Middie's instructions and shuffle over to the hoist still left in the corner from last time. As I head back with the noisy caster wheels on the concrete announcing my arrival, Midnight's face lights up.

"Wow, I actually expected you to find another avenue of stupidity to pursue. I'm glad I was wrong," she says.

"That can wait till later. We don't need the stress of this job turning light-hearted jabs into proper stabbing insults, you know?"

"Couldn't agree more," she answered happily. But after a short pause, her brow furrows. "You're gonna double down afterward, aren't you?"

"You worry too much. Let's get started."

One by one, Midnight cracks the mounting bolts loose holding the engine to the stand while I rig up the hoist and make sure the chain is taut in preparation for release. A slight jerk as the weight transfers completely to the hoist lets me know things are now in full swing.

Just not the engine – Midnight keeps it steady and from starting a pendulum motion while we wheel the cargo to the waiting bay of the Chrysler. She keeps a close eye on it as we move, but once we're close, her eyes dart to the engine bay, then to me. "Are you sure putting the headers on after we install the engine is the easier way?" she asks.

"It's a double-edged sword either way, but I do think it's the lesser of two evils. Yes, the headers would be way easier to put on now, but then we'll have to contend with working them around the transmission and watching for clearance around... well, just about everything," I explain, halting my steps and the hoist I'm pushing "The headers will fit, but I'm not sure how tight the fit is going to be, and I don't want to ding them up. Doing that after the installation will be a challenge, but we have new exhaust studs and other hardware that will ease the pain. It shouldn't be too bad."

"Ah, famous last words," Midnight jokes.

"You know it."

Midnight and I work together to maneuver the hoist into place, trying to center the engine for its descent into a now clean engine bay. With all the dust and grime gone, it makes potential hangups more visible; however, Midnight recalls much of what we had to pause for when taking the engine out anyway, such as the fuel lines.

As a result, the delicate process of easing the engine down into its cradle goes far quicker that I believe Midnight or I had anticipated, especially since we both agreed to take it slow. But before long, the chain holding the engine shows signs of slack as the front suspension of the car growls with the addition of weight to the front end.

"You think you'll be able to get the bolt into the motor mounts from the top here, or should I jack up the front of the car and crawl under it?" I ask Midnight.

Midnight, who stands on the passenger side of the car after dancing back and forth to watch for engine clearance, peers down toward the K-member, where the engine mount resides. Her brow furrows in contemplation while her eyes glow brighter, aiding her sight to see in the dim light below. "I should be able to. My viewing angle isn't great, but I can see the slots."

"Nice. We get that on each side and a couple bolts into the transmission and we can breathe a sigh of relief – but this is going really well."

"I figured it would – and that's not me boasting," she clarifies. "Guessing you're gonna finagle the hoist to help line up the slots for me?"

"Yep – you nailed the plan to a tee, Mid."

I leave my post without another word, heading to the shelves where I've kept many of the parts and fasteners for the Chrysler. I realize now in my haste to get started, I completely forgot to grab the motor mount and transmission to engine block bolts to have them on standby."

"So you had a plan, but didn't plan for the plan, huh?" Mid calls after me.

"Hey, shut up. That's a lot of plans to keep track of," I whine.

"That's two plans at most if you really wanna split hairs and separate them," she argues. But she doesn't have anything to add as I rummage through a large box filled with coffee cans and plastic bags containing all the fasteners for the car.

While I feel I did a good job of sorting and marking up everything we took off the car, I don't locate the bolts I'm looking for until I've narrowed down my search to one of two coffee cans. It's a process that, to my embarrassment, has taken a few minutes of time in relative silence. With a bag finally in hand and now making my way back toward the Chrysler, I can already see Midnight smirking, trying not to say anything.

"Go ahead. You'll hurt yourself if you don't spit it out," I groan.

"Should have started with the last can, huh? Would have saved you a lot of time," she jokes.

"Alright, that was even worse than I expected. You're getting almost as bad as me with stupid wisecracks," I accuse her.

"I'm just paying back a debt I owe you," she gushes in a silky sweet voice.

"Congrats – I'm wiping your debt away," I say while fishing out the first bolt for Midnight. She takes it without a word, but that smirk has grown devious.

"Wiping it away would be too easy. I need to make sure I pay it off to feel a sense of accomplishment," she counters.

"Maybe I deserve that – but hush and do your work," I playfully demand, pointing at her.

Focus shifts away from banter and back toward the task at hand. Midnight tilts her head at various angles and shifts her posture, trying to get the best viewing angle. It leaves me to wait for her instructions at the far end of the hoist, preparing to shift it in any way she calls out to line up the slots.

But that call never comes; with a satisfied grin, Midnight raises her head up and nods. "That one's in. No fighting needed."

"Guess we do damn good work. Sometimes they're a real bitch to get set right – maybe the car and the engine are just as eager as we are," I suggest.

Humming in amusement, Midnight circles around behind me, pausing only for a brief second for me to pass her the bolt for the driver's side mount. With one lined up and in, there's not going to be much movement available for me to shift the hoist. That could be a good thing or a frustrating thing...

Midnight's upbeat expression and mood sour with the first glance down into the abyss of the engine bay. "Alright, maybe things have been going too easy. We got a problem," she laments.

"I'm guessing it's not something small enough for me to just shift the hoist – what's up?"

"Motor mount is cockeyed in its seat. Too far forward," she explains. It's an explanation that I can't quite picture, at least not the way she's described it.

Unlike Mid, I have to grab a flashlight before stepping to her side and taking a look for myself. The problem is obvious as soon as I illuminate the area – the motor mount attached to the engine should be sitting between the 'ears' of the mating bracket welded to the K-member. Instead, we've somehow managed to get the engine to rest level with half of the mount inside of that bracket, and the other half forward of the front ear.

"I'm actually kind of impressed we were able to do that," I comment, trying to make the relatively minor setback a bit more light-hearted.

But Midnight sighs, the confidence and momentum we've had going so far dashed by this sight. "I'm gonna have to get that first bolt back out, aren't I?" she groans. "Should have known this was going too well."

"It's okay, we really haven't gotten that far – it's just one bolt," I remind her. "Besides, we're still making good time – and it's not like we're getting everything bolted in and hooked up for the first startup today."

"A mare can dream, can't she?" Midnight speaks up. It's a musing that's more desperate than hopeful, and she knows it judging by the sheepish grin that's managed to form on her muzzle.

"That's not a dream – that's a delusion," I clarify for her, deflating that expression on her face to be replaced by a pout.

"Oh, fine. You're no fun," she complains, pausing for a brief mental reset. "So did you want to try lifting up the engine a bit before I take that bolt out? Maybe we can sneak it over that ear."

"I doubt we can get it that high, Mid. Not a bad idea, but I'd be concerned about straining or marring something up while we try to brute force it into position."

"Fair enough. It was just a thought," she agrees, nodding her head. With deft footwork, Midnight cuts around me, then between the hoist and front of the car to retake position at the passenger side. In a matter of seconds, she's holding the first installed bolt in the air for me to see.

"Alright, guess this is round two – take the driver's side first, since that apparently wants to be the problem child," I instruct her, heading back to the jack on the hoist. It only takes a few pumps to raise the engine above the cradle again, leaving Midnight to hold the engine still once again in preparation for its second descent.

Both of us are dialed in for the second try; we meet each other's eyes and Midnight offers a slight nod. Every so slightly cracking the bleeder on the jack, the engine eases downward, jerking around for precise positioning under Midnight's guidance. Once again, a groan of suspension components and a hint of chain slack tells me we're all the way down.

"This side is good now," she announces. Rather than take the time to walk around, Midnight flares out her wings and gives them a few hard pumps, leaping into the air. She sails over the Chrysler with ease, touching down and pirouetting to take a look at the passenger side mount. She doesn't need to announce the results – her face lights up in an instant with one look down toward the mount.

I hold up one of the bolts for her, which she eagerly plucks from my hand again and transports down below. One nudge from her against the engine block is all it takes for that side to be done.

Passing off the second bolt as she reverts to using her hooves to maneuver around to the driver's side, I move to the passenger side to take a look at where we are in regard to the transmission. There's a gap between bellhousing and engine block of a quarter inch at most and just a bit uneven in level, not bad for the transmission being held in place at the front by chain – and unbolted from the crossmember at the rear for just a bit more clearance.

But trying to put a bolt through one hole in the case and into the engine proves the alignment isn't close enough. Rather than fight a losing battle, I pocket the bolt in my hand and walk around to rejoin Midnight.

"Hey, could you raise the jack up just a teeny bit?" Midnight asks, halting me in my tracks.

I give her a salute and give a quarter pump of the jack handle, at which point Mid motions for a halt. She sticks her tongue out while lightly shaking the engine, looking for that perfect spot...

"And there we go!" she cheers, raising her head, taking a step back and emitting a relaxed sigh.

"I guess if we weren't over the mountain yet, we officially are now," I comment, clapping my hands together. There might be some bumps along the way, but it's all downhill from here.