From Surgipelago, the Beach Surgery encyclopedia
The Mechanic's Two Faces
A service station materializes in the desert heat, a pump standing sentinel beside a corrugated roof. The proprietor leans against it, and he is the mechanic who repaired their truck. He is also the police officer Leif tackled in Newcastle, three chapters ago. Or he is neither. Or both simultaneously. Leif, bandaged-eyed, cannot verify which face occupies which time. The man speaks in two registers at once.
The Mechanic: Need fuel? Or confession?— Chapter 4
Leif: Just fuel.
The Mechanic: That's what they all say.
Katita fills the tank methodically. She watches the man watch them. His uniform flickers—one moment, grease-stained coveralls; the next, a police vest with a number that does not quite resolve. The harvesters circle the horizon like vultures waiting for a verdict. Inside Leif's head, his doubled vision worsens: he sees ten overlapping versions of this man, all of them real, all of them suspect. The pressure in his shoulders intensifies to something like pain. The man hands Katita a receipt. The total is written in a script that shifts as she reads it.