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“… a coupla weeks,” the driver was saying (на пару недель, — говорил /мой/ водитель;coupla — /разг., искаженное couple of/ пара; несколько). He was smiling the way people do when they're telling a joke that really slays them (он улыбался так, как улыбаются люди, когда рассказывают шутку, которая по-настоящему сражает их = от которой они сами покатываются со смеху; to slay — убивать; сражать). “And when he comes back (а когда он возвращается), he finds the car in the garage and his wife in the car (он находит машину в гараже, а свою жену в машине), she's been dead practically the whole time he's been gone (она была мертва практически все время, пока его не было /дома/). I don't know if it was suicide or a heart attack or what (я не знаю, было ли это самоубийство, или сердечный приступ, или что-то еще), but she's all bloated up (но она раздулась) and the car, it's full of that smell (а машина вся полна этого запаха) and all he wants to do is sell it, you know (и все, что он хочет, это продать ее).” He laughed (он засмеялся). “That's quite a story, huh (славная история, что скажешь; quite a — исключительный, необычный; заслуживающий внимания)?”

“Why wouldn't he call home (почему он не позвонил домой)?” It was my mouth, talking all by itself (это произнес мой рот, сам по себе: «это был мой рот, говорящий сам по себе»). My brain was frozen (мой мозг застыл). “He's gone for two weeks on a business trip (он уехал на две недели в командировку) and he never calls home once to see how his wife's doing (и ни разу не позвонил домой, чтобы узнать, как дела у его жены)?”

mileage ['maIlIG], garage ['gxrRZ], suicide ['sjuIsaId]

I looked out the window. I had heard the story before, years ago, probably while I was still in junior high. In the version I'd been told the car was a Thunderbird instead of a Caddy, but otherwise everything was the same. The kid says I may only be seventeen but I'm not an idiot, no one sells a car like this, especially one with low mileage, for only seven hundred and fifty bucks. And the guy tells him he's doing it because the car smells, you can't get the smell out, he's tried and tried and nothing will take it out. You see he was on a business trip, a fairly long one, gone for at least...

“... a coupla weeks,” the driver was saying. He was smiling the way people do when they're telling a joke that really slays them. “And when he comes back, he finds the car in the garage and his wife in the car, she's been dead practically the whole time he's been gone. I don't know if it was suicide or a heart attack or what, but she's all bloated up and the car, it's full of that smell and all he wants to do is sell it, you know.” He laughed. “That's quite a story, huh?”