Smoke's Carage was just ahead. Janaki walked down the center aisle to a counter at the back of the hole-in-the-wall establishment. After a customer wearing a "I'm with stupid" red hat on top of another hat left she asked about a window handle for the year and model of her open air vehicle. The sole proprietor, an idealist personage that at times when rubber hits the road was stubborn only for the rights of others searched on the computer, but could not find that type of SUV. Then Smoke pulled out a large well-worn book to page through it.

Suddenly the oldster who still had to work and always took pride in a job well done remembered, "I have a shelf full of inventory that has been taking up space since those notorious flivvers were discontinued. I can't even sell them online." Smoke motioned for Janaki to come around the counter. They walked over to the medley of boxes. Janaki picked up a package and blew dust off the top. The young woman was excited to see all of the embellishments, but then returned the container because she knew that she could not afford to buy them.

A peculiar look came to Smoke's lived-in face as he had a lightbulb moment. The old softy with a heart of gold who gave out full-sized candy bars at Halloween tried to sweep it from his mind, but he was unable. "I'll help you put the doodads on your fun-sized hilltopper if you will listen to a story. Afterward, if you choose to take a journey for me or not, the parts are yours." Janaki looked bewildered, but eagerly agreed to the bargain.