The sun was already setting, turning the sky into shades of orange and purple as Alex and David approached the shop. All the way there, David kept talking, his enthusiasm brimming with every word.
"Does it have a sports exhaust or is it one of those exhausts that look like tuna cans?" David asked, walking beside Alex with the energy of a little boy. "And what about the rims? Are they like the ones on Marcos' Skyline or are they so smooth they look like they're from a shopping cart? By the way, tell me it's a manual! Alex, I swear, if it's an automatic I'm going to die right now."
Alex rolled his eyes, smiling at his friend's insistence. "It's a manual, don't worry. But, to be honest, I don't think that matters much right now. It barely starts… if it starts at all."
David paused and looked at him with mock seriousness. "Bro, it doesn't matter if the engine feels like an old hair dryer. It's a Civic. If we do it right, it'll be a machine. Civics are like the Swiss Army knives of cars. They can do everything."
Alex couldn't help but laugh. David's energy was contagious. However, as the doors to the shop appeared at the end of the street, his smile became more nervous. Despite everything, a small part of him was afraid of discovering that the car had more problems than it could handle.
When they arrived, they found Marcos leaning against the Skyline. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and a smile that could mean anything: mockery, complicity, or both. Marcos always had that air of nonchalance, as if he never took anything too seriously. When he saw them approach, he raised the cup in a greeting.
"There are the kids," he said, his voice deep and mocking. "I thought you chickened out. Ready to get your hands in the grease?"
Alex raised his head in determination. "More than ready."
David, on the other hand, looked at him curiously. It was the first time he had seen Marcos in person, and the man's presence—with his worn leather jacket and confident attitude—was a little intimidating to him.
"And who are you?" Marcos asked, pointing at David with the cup before taking a sip. "The assistant?"
David opened his mouth to respond, but Alex beat him to it. "He's my friend. And yes, he can be useful."
Marcos smiled, pulling a keychain out of his pocket and tossing it to Alex. "All yours, kid. But I'm warning you: this car isn't just a challenge. It's a nightmare on wheels. It's got more issues than your love life."
Alex caught the keys in mid-air and rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha. Very funny. Let's go fix it."
The Civic was just as Alex had left it the night before, parked in the center of the shop under the yellowed lights that made every imperfection in the paint shine. Rust marks on the corners of the hood and dented panels gave it a worn look, but to Alex, it was still perfect.
David, however, was on another wavelength. He eagerly approached, inspecting every corner of the car as if he were in front of a Ferrari. He ran his hands along the hood, leaning down to look at the worn tires.
"It's beautiful! Well… beautiful if you look at it with your eyes half-closed," he said, letting out a laugh. "It's got a long way to go, but I can see it. This baby's got potential."
Marcos, who was leaning against a tool table with a smirk, shook his head. "Potential, yes. But first they have to get it to start without sounding like a grandfather with emphysema."
Alex nodded determinedly and looked at Marcos. "Where do we start?"
Marcos crossed his arms, adopting a serious expression for the first time all afternoon. "First, let's see what problems it has. This isn't a video game, kid. You can't just buy an upgrade package here. You have to identify the faults before you fix them. And remember: this is your project. I'm guiding you, but you're working. David can help you, but I don't want any excuses."
Alex grabbed a wrench and carefully opened the hood. The sound of rusty metal grinding made him frown. What they found underneath wasn't pretty: an engine covered in dust and grease, with frayed wires and oil stains in every corner. It was like no one had touched that engine in decades.
"Welcome to the heart of the beast," Marcos said, leaning over to point out a few spots. "First, let's check for leaks. If an engine loses fluids, it loses life."
Alex nodded, grabbing a flashlight to inspect the engine's lines and gaskets. After a few minutes, he found the first sign of trouble: a broken gasket near the crankcase, with oil slowly dripping out.
"We've got a leak here," he said, pointing with the flashlight.
Marcos nodded. "That's a classic. Worn crankcase gasket. If you don't fix it, that oil is going to go straight to the ground instead of keeping the engine lubricated. We need to replace it, but let's check everything else first."
David, who was watching from the other side, raised his hand as if he were in class. "What happens if we don't fix that now?"
Marcos looked at him with a mix of patience and sarcasm. "If you don't fix it, the engine burns out from friction, overheats, and basically turns into a nice giant paperweight. Does that answer your question?"
David nodded quickly. "Got it. Crankcase gasket, priority one."
"Now let's look at the electrical system," Marcos said. "Alex, try to start the car. Let's see if it's at least responsive."
Alex climbed into the driver's seat, turned the key in the ignition, and… nothing. Not a click, not a hum. It was like the car was completely dead.
"Well, that's demotivating," Alex muttered, getting out of the car.
Marcos chuckled. "This isn't demotivating, kid. This is diagnostics. Let's check the battery."
David grabbed a multimeter from the tool table and handed it to Alex. "Here, measure the voltage. I bet it's as dead as my math plant."
Alex connected the multimeter leads to the battery terminals. The screen flickered before displaying a depressing number: 3.5 volts.
"That's not good, is it?" Alex asked.
Marcos shook his head. "The battery should have at least 12.6 volts to start. This thing is dead. We need a new battery, and fast. But in the meantime, let's check the jumper cables. Sometimes a bad connection can be just as problematic."
Alex inspected the terminals and cables that connected the battery to the starter motor. He found corrosion built up on one of the terminals.
"We've got corrosion here," Alex pointed out, as David leaned in to look.
Marcos nodded. "Easy. Clean it up with baking soda and water. But remember: a good connection means nothing if the battery has no charge. We need to replace it before anything else."
"Thoroughly?" Alex asked, frowning. "We don't even feel any pressure down here!"
Marcos let out a grunt as he slid his flashlight over to inspect the brake lines. "That's because there's no pressure, kid. This system is drier than a desert."
Alex shone a light on one of the main brake fluid lines and noticed dark, sticky stains around the connections. "There's a leak here," he said, pointing to one of the flexible hoses that connected to the brake caliper.
Marcos nodded, with the patience of a teacher teaching a novice. "The line is broken. No brake fluid, no pressure in the system, and without pressure, no brakes. That hose is a mess, but we're going to check everything out. The pads are probably as worn as a bum's shoes."
David leaned over the wheel and yelled from above, "Does this mean I'm not going to be able to test it anytime soon?! Because I have plans to drift, guys."
Marcos poked his head out from under the car with a smirk. "Bro, with this car, your best drift would be right into a pole. Calm down, your racing dreams are going to have to wait."
With the car jacked up, Alex and Marcos removed one of the front wheels to check the brake pads and rotors. David, eager to help, tried to grab the impact wrench, but Marcos stopped him.
"Don't even try it, kid," Marcos said. "If you drop this thing, you'll probably destroy your foot and my patience."
Alex carefully removed the bolts and pulled the tire off. When he finally had access to the brake pads, he let out a sigh. The pads were completely smooth, with no trace of the material that should be there to stop the car.
"Is this normal?" Alex asked, holding up one of the pads.
"It's normal if the previous owner thought braking was optional," Marcos said, removing the brake disc. "And look at this. The discs are so scratched up they look like old vinyl. This all needs to change."
David walked over to inspect the discs. "Can we polish them or something?"
"No, genius," Marcos replied with a wry smile. "This isn't a clean-and-shine game. We need new discs, new pads, and replacing those brake lines. We're basically rebuilding the system from scratch."
After a few hours of going over the brake system, Marcos, Alex, and David had a clear list of what they needed:
1. Brake hoses: Several were worn out and one was completely torn.
2. Brake pads: All were worn down to the metal.
3. Brake discs: Scratched, rusted, and completely unusable.
4. Brake fluid: The system was empty, probably due to leaks.
Marcos dropped the tools on the table and crossed his arms. "This isn't optional, Alex. If you don't fix the brakes, don't even think about taking this car out of the shop. An engine that won't start is a problem. But a car without brakes is a coffin on wheels."
Alex nodded, jotting everything down in his notebook. "How much do you think all this will cost me?"
Marcos shrugged. "Not much if you know where to look. There are second-hand parts that can be used, and in this workshop we can do some of the work ourselves. But be prepared, because not everything is going to be cheap."
David looked at Alex with a mischievous grin. "Bro, this is perfect. You're becoming an expert mechanic and you didn't even know it."
Alex laughed out loud, though he still felt the weight of the work to be done. "Or an expert at spending money."
Marcos patted him on the shoulder. "That's part of the game, too, kid. Welcome to the world of old cars. Now, clean this up and tomorrow we start on the brakes. We've made enough of a mess today."
When they finished organizing the tools and covering the Civic, Alex sat for a moment on the edge of the work table, looking at the car under the shop lights. David had left a few minutes ago, and Marcos was outside smoking a cigarette.
The Civic was far from perfect, but for the first time, Alex felt like he had a purpose. Every problem he encountered was one step closer to understanding how the car worked, to making it his own.
Marcos walked back in, stubbing out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe. "Thinking of giving up?" He asked with a smile.
Alex shook his head. "No. I'm just thinking about how much more work there is to do."
"And there is a lot left," Marcos said. "But every little bit of progress is worth it. A car isn't just parts and bolts. It's work, effort, and patience. And when you get there, there'll be nothing like that first roar of the engine."
Alex sighed, looking at the Civic with a mix of excitement and resignation. "It's going to cost me a lot of money, right?"
Marcos laughed as he leaned back on the work table, still staring at the car. "Easy, kid. It's a Civic. Even with Chinese parts, this shit works. But I warn you: don't buy Chinese parts."
"Why? They don't work?" Alex asked, confused, as he began to clean up some spilled oil on the floor.
"They work, yes," Marcos replied, taking a sip of his coffee, "but they're going to cost you more in the long run. They're like those cheap patches you put on a tire. At first everything seems fine, but they fail you when you need them the most. If you're going to do it right, look for used parts, or even new ones if you're lucky. Sometimes local parts stores have good deals."
Alex nodded thoughtfully. "And the brake system? Where do I get those parts?"
Marcos frowned thoughtfully before shrugging. "The brake system is key. Don't gamble with it. We can get good parts, but I don't want you stopping in the middle of a race with toy brakes. I can get you some good quality brake fluid lines, that's the cheapest part of all. But the pads, the rotors... that's another level. I don't want to see you skimping on that."
"What about brake discs? What about pads?" Alex asked, growing anxious about the mountain of repairs ahead of him.
"Discs and pads... you need quality there, mate. If you buy the cheap ones, you'll be changing them in a couple of months. I can get you some used ones that are pretty good, and you'll save a pretty penny. Anyway, brakes are the first thing you need to do. No rushing around until that's in order."
Alex rubbed his face, knowing that Marcos was right. The Civic was far from a race car, but with time, effort, and some money, it could be one someday. "Okay, I'll take it easy. First brakes, then engine."
"Exactly. First things first, kid," Marcos said, getting up to search for some parts on one of the shelves full of spares and tools. "But don't worry, we're not alone in this. I'll help you get whatever you need."
With the list of repairs and parts in mind, Alex got up from the table, looked at the Civic one last time, and sighed. "Well, I'm going home. I have to go get the money tomorrow. It's not going to be easy."
Marcos nodded as he leaned back in his chair, looking at the car with a tired expression. "I know, kid. But this is what's going to give you satisfaction. There's nothing like watching something that looked like a piece of junk turn into a machine. Just make sure you don't let it cost you more than you can handle. Don't rush. The Civic is going to wait."
"Thanks, Marcos," Alex said, with a small smile. "I really appreciate it. Without you, I wouldn't know where to start."
"That's what friends are for, kid," Marcos replied, patting him on the back. "Just remember one thing: this is a marathon, not a sprint. You're going to fail, you're going to fall apart sometimes, but you're going to learn more from those failures than from any success."
Alex paused for a moment, looking at Marcos. "I'm not giving up. This car is going to be mine, and I'm going to make it work, even if it costs me everything."
Marcos smiled, his gaze approving. "That's what I like to hear. Now go home, rest. Tomorrow, when we get back, the good stuff begins."
End of Chapter 4.