The Noise

The mechanic says, “Tell me what it sounds like.” I tell him it goes… and I stop, because I'm standing in a garage bay with a man in a clean shirt.

I've tried “wub.” I've tried “like a spoon in a dryer.” I've tried “rrr-tk,” which I wrote on the back of an envelope so I wouldn't lose it. The car has made the noise at every red light for six months. On the way to the shop it behaved like a car that had never been in trouble.

Lenny listened to my “rrr-tk.” Then he did it back. Perfectly. Same pitch, same little click at the end.

I said it was lower. He did it lower. We went through nine versions, standing by the front bumper, taking turns. I said, “That's it,” on the eighth. It wasn't. But it was so close to what I would have said.

He called Thursday and said it was fixed. I drove it home. It makes a different noise now.

I'm going to give it a week before I bring it up.