CHAPTER SIX A — THE MISSING KEY

The tire shop had only one replacement in stock, so I spent Saturday morning waiting for the second tire to arrive from a warehouse forty miles away.
The mechanic, a woman named Jodie Bell, rolled the damaged wheel into the waiting area and set it upright against a chair.
“Somebody used a narrow blade,” she said.
“Can you tell me who?” I asked.
“No, and I wouldn’t pretend otherwise.”
She pointed at the cut and explained why the tire could not safely be patched.
I asked her to photograph the damage for my insurance claim.
While she worked, a teenage boy wearing a Northbridge sweatshirt entered the shop and stopped when he recognized me.
He was carrying a bicycle wheel with three broken spokes.


“You’re the woman on Bellwether,” he said.
“I am.”
“Mrs. Hollen says you make trouble for people who help us.”
Jodie looked up from her workbench.
“She says a lot of things,” she replied.
The boy introduced himself as Ellis and explained that his bicycle had been damaged while he was carrying supplies to the workshop.
He had missed a morning shift at a grocery distribution center because the bike could not be ridden.
Jodie examined the wheel and told him the repair would cost thirty dollars.
Ellis stared at his shoes.
“I have fourteen,” he said.
“I can do the rest next week.”
“I didn’t say I was offering credit,” Jodie replied.
Ellis’s face fell.
She reached beneath the counter and brought out a used wheel.
“I said I was checking whether this one fits.

”
She fitted the wheel and asked him to pedal slowly around the empty parking area.
He returned grinning, but the grin disappeared when a dark SUV stopped outside.
A Northbridge employee climbed out and called his name.
“You were supposed to report to the house after your shift,” the employee said.
“My bike broke.”
“You should have called.”
“I did call.”
The employee noticed me and lowered his voice.
“Get in the car, Ellis.”
Jodie folded her arms.
“His bicycle is ready, and he paid for it with the parts he brought.”
“This is a residential matter,” the employee said.
“Then discuss it with him without making a scene in my shop,” she answered.
Ellis took his bicycle and left without getting into the SUV.
The employee watched him ride away before returning to the vehicle.
I wrote down the encounter because it had happened in front of me, but I did not ask Ellis to explain his housing arrangement.
Later, when Jodie handed me the invoice, she asked why I had moved to Bellwether.
“My mother needs somewhere without stairs,” I said.
“Then I hope you get to use the place for that.”
She glanced toward the street where the SUV had disappeared.
“People around here mistake helping somebody for owning them.”