The Rest of the Trailer Debacle

Not able to sit still for longer that 45 seconds, I hopped up and started organizing the Xterra. If I was stuck in one place, I'd better clean. The vehicle desperately needed cleaning and organization.

Starting at the driver's seat, I moved counterclockwise around the car, opening each door to better organize the space. After rearranging the swap-meet sales items and put the under purple and blue blankets, I moved to the trunk, the rear door passenger side, and, finally, the passenger side.

With nothing else to do I checked my phone. Fun Steve reiterated his willingness to help and asked something about the trailer. Feeling pressed for time, I called Fun Steve. As we talked, a white pick-up truck pulled unext to mine.

"Hang on," I whispered. "I think this is him."

"Don't you know what he looks like?"

"Yes, but, I can't tell through the windows. It looks like him." Then I saw his long grey ponytail protruding like an arc down the back of his jacket. He opened the door. "Ya... it's him."

Then....

I got off the phone with Steve.

Myles took a look at the tire and slowly moved toward the back of his truck to retrieve the jack. I looked at my watch.

Myles slowly bent down toward the tire. I told him I could do that.

Myles shooed me away. Then he realized he didn't have anything to loosen the lug nuts. He got up and fumbled around the back of his truck. "This might work. I just hope it's the right size." The tool was a ratchet, but the ratchet head could also bend at an angle. I want one of those.

Next, Myles began to crawl under the trailer. "Let me do that," I inserted, not wanting this old man on the ground. Besides, I couldaybe learn something from doing.

He positioned the jack and started pumping it up. It was a little, yellow rusted hydraulic kind, the kind I'd almost bought from him on that Saturday. Instead, I'd opted for the farm jack. It was the kind I really wanted for trail riding. He crawled out from beneath the trailer and took off the lug nuts.

I quickly positioned myself to take over the jack work. I did not want to see this old man with his bad knees on the ground. It was horrifying. "Let me do it," I said.

So it was that I worked the jack while he took off the flat tire. He put the spare he'd brought against the place where the wheel goes, but the lug nuts didn't line up.

"Pump it higher."

"It won't go any higher," I said.

He poked his head under the trailer. "Try it again," he directed, looking at the jack.

I did. It didn't go higher. I'd already told him that.

"We're gonna need to get some wood..."

"I'll go in and get it," I said, hopping up and already heading into Home Depot.

Once inside I found two orange aprons talking at the head of the lumber aisle. "Hey, is Jack around?" I asked, thinking the man I spoke with out in the parking lot would at least be sympathetic to my plight and what I was about to ask.

"Jack in plumbing?" the younger apron asked.

I paused. "I didn't know he was in plumbing. That's what I need. What I need is kind of strange. See...I have this trailer, and it's got a flat, and the jack won't go high enough, and--ironically, I just met Jack and here I am trying to jack the trailer--and so I need a piece of wood to get more lift, but I just want a broken piece of wood, a scrap piece...I don't want to pay any money for it."

The older apron led me down the lumber aisle, and then I saw it. The third bay was almost empty, and a cracked piece of 2x4 or something lay on the floor, its splintered edges pointing back in the bay.

"What about that? Can I have that?" I asked, already stooping to pick it up.

He said I could take it.

A smaller piece lay beneath the rack. I grabbed it. "Can I have this, too?"

"Sure! We just throw it away."

"Thank you!" I said and ran out to Myles with my eye on the clock.

Myles had the jack positioned and he put the small piece of wood on top, this giving an extra 2" lift.

Steve texted, and I sent back a quick reply that the spare was going on now.

Once the tire was on, Myles dropped the jack.

The new tire leaned toward the trailer at an odd angle. Rather than being parallel to the trailer, a 30-degree angle formed between one side of the trailer and the tire.

"It's rubbing over here," I said, showing Myles where no space existed between the tire and the trailer. "It's right up against the side."

"How can that be?" Myles philosophized into the air while looking at the situation. "It's your trailer," he said, the suspension's come undone." He pointed to the undercarriage where--sure enough--the flat-springy thing was no longer attached to the trailer. Instead, a gaping hole remained. "There's supposed to be a bolt going through there." He pushed it back up and set it into place. "You'll need to get a 3- or 4- inch bolt."

"I'll go get a bolt," I said, feeling like crying, while my feet automatically carried me toward Home Depot. Along the way, I texted Fun Steve. I don't remember exactly what I texted, but it was along the lines of help me.

When I got out of Home Depot with the bolts, Steve was already there, taking over for Myles. I don't know how he got there so quickly. Maybe he's like a Superman. After today's rescue, I might have to dub him Super Fun Steve. I'll have to get him a cape that says SFS on it. (I just hope it's not an acronym for the LOLers, BRBers, and ROFLMAOers. Like, I hope it's not an abbreviation for Single Female Short or Something Funky Smells.)

Anyhow...Super Fun Steve completely took over the project, and within ten minutes, we pulled out of the Home Depot lot and were back on Highway 95.

I dropped the trailer and the solar panels at Super Fun Steve's house.

"What about getting the tires?" he asked.

"They can wait," I said. "I've had enough of that trailer for a day."

Then, I dashed off to work, a little over two hours late.