“Looks like an engine,” Evan said, pointing. “At least that middle part there.”
They both stood for a minute, sizing up the machinery in front of them.
“So, what’s it doing?” Evan asked.
“It doesn’t run.”
The silence went on for a bit, neither of them realizing they had adopted the same pose of left hand holding right elbow, right hand stroking chin.
“You don’t have a clue, do you?” Greg asked.
“Not in the slightest,” Evan said. “I was really hoping my Y chromosome would have kicked in or something. I can’t help but to think that my dad would have known what to do, or at least where to start. He would have jiggled that wire right there and said to try it again, and the thing would start right up. I have no idea what that bit is,” he said, pointing to a module coming off the engine.
“Well, it’s all bloody computers now, isn’t it?” Greg said. “Thing’s got more in common with my phone than it does any car our dads would have worked on. Hell, maybe I should just try turning it off and turning it on again.”
“Turning it on is the problem, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Greg lowered the hood in defeat. “Time to call the man.”