THE GAS MONEY AT BAY FOUR
Chapter I: The Empty Wallet and the Rusty Pickup
The rain pattered steadily against the corrugated metal roof of Miller’s Auto Center, reflecting the pale evening twilight across the grease-stained concrete bays. Hydraulic lifts held suspended vehicles overhead while the heavy scent of motor oil and coolant filled the air.
Parked by the open garage doors was a battered, turquoise 1970s pickup truck, its hood propped open with steam venting from the radiator cap. Standing beside the driver-side door with trembling hands was an elderly man in a faded tan canvas work jacket, frayed trousers, and worn combat boots. His face was weathered, his gray hair messy, as he opened a cracked leather wallet to reveal only a single torn dollar bill.
Wiping a heavy steel wrench with an oily rag at the tool bench was Toby, a sixteen-year-old shop apprentice dressed in a utility vest and blue shirt.
Toby looked up, noticing the old man's defeated posture and empty wallet. Without hesitation, Toby reached into his own pocket, pulled out the folded twenty-dollar bill he had just earned for a full day's shift, and stepped toward the truck.
Chapter II: The Boss's Ultimatum
"Don't get involved," a sharp, gravelly voice barked from the back office.
Marching out with an aggressive scowl was Harold Croft, the shop owner. Dressed in a dark-red uniform button-down with gray trousers, Croft stepped forward with his arms crossed in irritation.