Outside the Oasis: Part 1
Repairs for the Pizza-Bot

The warm air and beams of sunlight felt nice on Mason’s skin. Taylor and he had walked in silence for quite a while, and at first, it bothered Mason. At this point, however, he began to forget she was tailing him. He had tried to find something in common with her, but his vague attempts fell flat against her cold demeanor. So instead, he chose silence.

Mason had messaged Claire to let her know he was on his way, and she quickly reminded him that he was late, again. Occasionally he would turn his head and monitor Taylor from the corner of his eye. He found it extremely awkward to be forced to hang out with someone he had just met, but she was his responsibility.

The two of them walked like ants between the cracks in the sidewalk. Towering buildings surrounded them at almost every turn and green grass stretched between their roots. Fruit trees, bushes, and multicolor flower beds surrounded them as they walked.

Almost every time he looked back, Mason found Taylor intently studying the grass and foliage around them. It was as if she was discovering it for the first time. Frequently she would step off the pathway and walk through the grass, or reach up to feel the leaves of a low-hanging branch above her.

As the two of them walked, Mason reached up and grabbed a dark red apple that was hanging from one of the many fruit trees they passed by. The branch protested but gave up as he twisted the apple’s stem and pulled. A look of shock overcame Taylor as Mason took a bite.

“You can just take that?” Taylor asked as she eyed the tree for more apples.

“Of course,” Mason replied as he watched Taylor reach for an apple, “These trees are placed here for a reason. You can take an apple as you walk to school, or work, or whatever.”

“How much does it cost?” Taylor eyed him quizzically.

Mason chuckled, “Nothing. You just pick it and eat it.”

Taylor plucked an apple from the tree and eagerly took a bite. Her body relaxed as she chewed, while her eyes never left the freshly bitten apple. Quickly, her eyes darted back into the tree and she reached for another.

“Whoa,” Mason approached her, but as he did, Taylor immediately recoiled, “What’s wrong with that one?”

“I have to grab one for my mom and dad,” Taylor said as she guarded her apple.

“The trees will still be here when they go outside. No need to pick too many now or else they’ll get old,” Mason said as he read her standoffish body language

Reluctantly, she continued trailing behind Mason as he followed the various twists and turns that were extremely familiar to him. Mason and Taylor weaved their way between the tall housing complexes around them like water in a deep canyon.

Eventually, Mason brought them both to a halt underneath the wooden sign with a pizza slice on it. “So, inside this building is a good friend of mine, I’m sure you and her will hit it off,”

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m here to fix things, not make friends,”. Taylor’s cold demeanor continued to frost over any sort of friendly comment, and Mason was reminded that she really didn’t want to be here.

“Cool,” Mason nodded, “Let’s get this over with.”

--=|=--

Claire was hunched over her laptop when Mason entered, and she began to talk before turning around, “At this point, I’d be surprised if you were on time,”. Still with her back turned, Claire pushed a light blue box into view, “They are probably cold again.”

Mason cleared his throat, “Hey Claire, meet Taylor.”

Whirling around, Claire blushed a deep color of red, “I didn’t realize Mason had a guest.” She clasped her hands together and pushed them against her stomach, chuckling nervously, “You’ll find that Mason is not very punctual. It’s a joke we have. I’m not mean.”

Taylor seemed unimpressed and readjusted her backpack full of tools on her shoulder, “Where is the machine?”

“Taylor, this is Claire,” Mason tried to keep the friendly atmosphere going, but Taylor seemed to trample it.

Claire approached Taylor and stuck her hand out, anticipating a firm handshake, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Clairvoyance, but everyone calls me Claire.”

“Taylor,” Taylor responded but disregarded Claire’s attempt at salutations, “Where is the machine?”

“It’s over here!” Mason was beginning to adopt Taylor’s no-nonsense attitude. The faster he could get her out of there, the quicker he and Claire could go back to their happy vibes. Mason reached into the blue box that Claire had presented and pulled out a raspberry-filled doughnut.

As the three of them walked, Claire began to fill Taylor in on the situation, “From what I can tell, the problem is the hydraulics controller. There is a leak somewhere and the machine can’t lift its own arms. I’ve run computer diagnostics and there is nothing wrong with the machine’s programming or motherboard, so once we finish patching the leak it should be up and running.”

“And then I can make money again,” Mason smiled proudly.

Taylor slowed her step as she approached the octopus-looking machine. She had never seen anything like it before. Granted, she only worked on heavy machinery, but something this small and intricate couldn’t be difficult. “You make money off of this?” Taylor asked Mason.

“When it’s working I get a small fraction of the sales price of anything it makes. It broke a couple of days ago so the standby machine has taken its place. Once it gets fixed, my machine will be put back into the assembly line and I’ll be good as gold again.”

“Then let’s discuss my price,” Taylor turned to him as she began roping her hair into a bun, “Fifty bucks and I fix your machine, you can pay me when I’m done.”

Mason and Claire exchanged a fleeting glance. Taylor was intense. Much harsher than the two of them had ever been towards each other.

“Deal,” Mason shrugged. He needed to get the machine fixed, and a service mechanic off the street would charge fifty dollars just to show up.

Taylor continued, “Stiff me for payment and I’ll leave a wrench in your precious little pizza-bot.”

Mason held up his hands in surrender, “Hey now, we are all honest people here. If I say I’ll pay you, then I’ll pay you,”. He pulled out his device and activated a digital payment interface.

Taylor looked at Mason’s device with confusion, “What is that? You fancy people don’t use cash?”

“I have cash,” Claire spoke up. Her and Mason’s looks were getting more frequent and more judgemental, “Would you please take a look?”.

Slinging the bag of tools off of her back, she kneeled on the floor and pried the service panel off with her fingers before throwing it to the floor. Mason began to speak up but Claire held her hand over his mouth.

Taylor pulled a flashlight out of her bag and began to inspect the machine. Every now and then she would reach into the machine and tug on something. To Mason, it didn’t look like she was fixing anything. Claire almost had to physically restrain him a couple of times before Taylor finally sat back on her heels and turned to them.

“Looks like the fittings are loose. I’ll tighten them for you and throw on some adhesive so they don’t pop off again.”

Mason smiled wide, trying to hide his relief that there was an end in sight, “Perfect! How did you learn to fix things?”

Taylor didn’t look up from the machine, “I’ve been working on mining equipment since I was twelve. My dad taught me everything I know.”

Mason thought about asking any sort of follow-up questions, but it was hard to talk to her. Taylor began to pull various tools out of her bag and her hands disappeared into the machine again. The clicking of a wrench and creaking of screws filled the empty restaurant and Mason was beginning to become restless. At first, he tapped on his own wrist quietly, but it slowly progressed into drumming on the table.

“So how do you know each other?” Claire asked Taylor, desperate to hear anything besides Mason’s nervous tapping.

“We don’t,” Mason replied, “Taylor and her family just moved into town.”

Claire’s eyes burned with curiosity. She leaned forward and tucked her hair behind her ear, “From outside? Where are you from?”

“The Kennecott Mine Encampment, it’s a temporary mining camp in Utah, but I’m from Denver originally,” Taylor responded softly.

Claire put her hands on her heart and gasped with glee, “Oh? Utah! My family did a lot of traveling in Utah before I was born. They speak fondly of the mountains there.”

“They must have visited before it became a mining operation,” Taylor grunted as she reached deeper into the machine.

“Mining? What are they mining there?” Mason became curious and joined the conversation.

“First it was the salt. They took every ounce of salt they could from the Great Salt Lake and shipped it to canned fish companies. Then it was the copper,” Taylor reached back into her tool bag and grabbed a can full of a purple-colored jelly, “Those mining companies will tear a mountain down looking for an ounce of copper. Even when geologists say there isn’t any to be found, it doesn’t matter.”

“Is that what your dad does? Is he a miner?” Mason pressed and instantly remembered her father’s missing arm. Was it possible to be a miner with only one arm? Mason began to hypothesize on how her father lost his arm and had to bring his attention back to the conversation.

“Kind of. He’s a mechanic,” The silence that followed Taylor’s response made her continue to explain, “He fixes the mining vehicles and machines.”

“That’s fantastic,” Claire said in awe, “Will you two continue to be mechanics here?”

“We have plenty of machines that need maintenance,” Mason chuckled before gesturing around them, “As you can see.”

“That’s the goal,” Taylor agreed.

Another silence followed Taylor’s statement, and Claire continued to strike up a conversation, “What do you think of the city so far?”

Taylor didn’t answer at first, and she mulled the thoughts in her head over and over before speaking, “It’s nice. I haven’t seen this much green grass in a long time. Most of the grass I’ve seen is yellow or brown because the mining companies are using all of our water. I ate a roll at Mason’s house, and that was the first time I’ve eaten fresh bread in years.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Is there really no bread outside?” Mason interrupted.

Claire answered for Taylor, “There is, but it isn’t nearly as affordable as it should be. I hear my father talk about this quite often. After people’s wages fell, the government wasn’t able to feed everyone on welfare, so corporations placed bids to take responsibility for portions of the people on welfare.”

“But they treat it less like a charity and more like a business, and the people on welfare are just customers on retainer now,” Taylor continued, ’We only get access to the food that the companies produce, which means a lot of people’s diets consist of cheese crackers, beef jerky, and canned tuna.”

Mason sat back and internalized what he had just heard. He had no idea that life outside of the walls was that dreary. He was born outside of the city, but his family had moved before he turned one, which meant that everything he had ever known was inside the city limits.

“You’re here now, and there is plenty of food to go around,” Claire reassured Taylor.

Taylor grunted at Claire’s attempt for comradery. Taylor peaked a look at the two strangers she had met. On one side was the ever-pleasant Claire. She made Taylor feel something she didn’t like. Her kindness seemed too genuine for Taylor’s liking, and she prepared herself for the worst. However, her cheerful smile and rosy cheeks had a contagious quality to them, but Taylor actively resisted. Claire’s blonde hair glittered under the soft yellow lights of the restaurant, and Taylor watched her petite fingers type away on her keyboard. Taylor noticed that Claire’s nails were painted like a nebula or galaxy which interested Taylor, even though she had never bothered to learn the intricacies of fashion.

Taylor’s sneaky glance shifted to Mason. He looked like a doofus. The way he stood there with a perpetual smirk on his face made Taylor chuckle. It’s like he never expected anything to go wrong and his problems would simply go away if he smiled at them. He had brown, curly hair and light blue eyes that were always looking for something to fidget with. During the time Taylor had been here, she had seen him pick up fifteen different trinkets. Each time he would inspect it, fiddle with it, and return it to its place. Mason was taller than Claire and had broad shoulders, but she couldn’t find any visible muscle on his frame which increased Taylor’s confidence in winning a fist-fight against him.

The room was still silent, and now Taylor began to feel a twinge of guilt. Claire and Mason had been nothing but friendly to her, and she had shut them down every time. Taylor reminded herself that she wasn’t here to make friends, but she realized it wouldn’t hurt to be a little nice.

“So, uh,” Taylor spoke before realizing what she was going to say, “I heard you got a permit of some kind.”

Lucky for Taylor, Mason jumped on the bait and relieved Taylor of the burden of conversation, “My I.C.E. Permit? You bet I got it! I have the permit, I have the money, and I have the car all picked out. I just need to go get it.”

Taylor’s eyes widened in surprise. This was the first thing that Mason had said that she was actually interested in, “What type of car are you going to get?”

Mason stopped what he was doing and a wicked smile crept across his face, “A 1967 Chevrolet Camaro.”

Claire rolled her eyes and buried herself in her laptop, “Here we go again.”

Mason set the stage, “My grandfather had a ’67 Camaro in his garage when my father was growing up. He went through some money problems and had to sell it before my dad could take ownership of it. My dad spent summer after summer saving up for the car and purchased a similar Camaro his senior year of high school, but when my family moved to the city, he made the decision to sell it.”

Claire mocked Mason’s tone and enthusiasm without looking up from her screen, “It’s my turn! It’s my duty! I need to get my hands on a Camaro!”

Mason’s enthusiasm dropped and he grumbled, “Hey! That’s my line.”

Taylor smiled at the two of them, “The Camaro is a beautiful car,” Taylor smiled, “My dad always talked about how beautiful muscle cars were in the seventies.”

“See!” Mason pointed at Taylor, “She gets it! I have the money, and I found the car. He’s even holding it for me until I can pick it up!”

“I don’t understand it, but I know how excited you are about it,” Claire responded, “I’m excited to take a ride in it.”

The rest of Mason’s enthusiasm suddenly drained from his body, “Only thing is, the car is in North Dakota. I’ve been trying to find a way to get the car, but I have no idea how I’m going to get there.”

Everyone in the room felt Mason’s disappointment. Nobody knew what to say in order to cheer him up.

Claire reached out and lightly punched Mason’s arm, “You’ll find a way. I know how long you’ve been looking for that car. You’ll make it work.”

Taylor nodded and got back to work, “Do your parents know about the car?”

Mason chuckled, “They didn’t even know about the permit until today.”

Taylor spoke through gritted teeth as she pushed her arm deeper into the pizza bot, “Maybe if you approach them with your plan, and they see how thought out it is, they might surprise you.” Taylor sighed with relief and pulled her hands out of the machine, her arms covered in grease and lubricant.

“They aren’t the understanding type,” Mason sighed, “but it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.”

Taylor stood up and smiled, “All fixed. I’ll take that fifty dollars now.”

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.