SMOKE

Somewhere in the annals of rural Americana, stands a huge old oak tree. 

In front of the farmhouse, the mostly rust colored ‘92 Ford pick up is parked in the shade with the hood propped open with a broomstick. Jed and his best buddy Gomer both

gaze down at the motor with puzzled expressions. 

The tools are all laid out on the Skoal blanket. Pliers, screwdrivers, pry bars

and the wrench and socket sets in their designated White Owl Cigar boxes.  

Some of the sockets are mix-matched but mostly all there. An old tethered pair 

of jumper cables hangs over the fender and drags in the grass, the other end

still attached to the 7 year old Montgomery Wards battery.  

The remaining wisps of smoke rise up from the alternator. Initially, a huge puff of

smoke, accompanied by a strange sizzling sound and a horrible odor of plastic and rubber

burning occurred. Suddenly a light bulb epiphany shines brightly in Jed’s brain

and he turns to Gomer in excitement to share his amazing discovery.  

“Ya know Gome, I think I just figgerd somethin’ out.” 

“What’s that, Jed?”

“Them alternators and starters and stuff like that, they work offa smoke.”

Gomer was fascinated, but very puzzled. First he spit on the ground, then he had to ask.

“Smoke ?!! How’s that, Jed??”

Jed was bursting with pride. “Well, at first they work real good, then when you let the

smoke out, they don’t work no more. It must be the smoke makin’ ‘em work!”