Brake light shines

In the midst of our overflow of crises last month, a red warning light on the dashboard flashed “brake.” I slowed and tested the brakes, listening for the high pitched whine of metal against metal. Nothing.
My husband said, “it just needs to have the brake fluid topped off.” The first shop refused. “If the light s on and the brake fluid is leaking, it means something needs repairing.” Ultimately, they were right, but I found a place where they said they would make an overdue oil change and top off all the fluids. When they had finished the brake light still glared. I marched into shop exasperated, ‘if you topped off the fluids, why is the brake light still on?”
The manager jumped. “We’ll check that out, ma’am.” He measured the brake fluid, tested the brakes’ response, verified tat all the brake lights were working. “There must be a short in the wire,” he concluded.
“Right,” I muttered, as I got in the car to drive away, “that’s what they told me the last time a brake light came on.”
The last time a brake light flashed I was a few miles outside of El Dorado. Alarmed, I pulled over and tested the brakes. They responded perfectly. I decided to mention the light to my husband that night. I didn’t get a chance. At the next stop sign the brakes did not respond. Fortunately the emergency brake did.
I took that flashing brake light to the shop where I was charged $100 to have someone fix what they said was a short in the wire to the dashboard light. The braking crisis at the intersection was obviously my imagination: The brakes were fine.
They didn’t do a very good job fixing that short. Days later my husband was driving us home from the airport one evening when the brake light flashed on again. The traffic was read at the next intersection. He stepped on the brakes, but the car kept moving forward.
Kinda’ scared him, too.
We had an hour of driving before we would be home, and no place open to check out the problem. My husband decided, as I had, that he would shift down for anticipated stops and jam on the emergency brakes if necessary. We drove on for several miles, holding our breath, hoping we did not need to stop quickly. At the next red traffic light we quit worrying the brakes worked fine, again.
Bright and early the next morning my husband called the same shop and explained the problem. They did not tell him it was a short in the wire. They decided we should be included in a brake recall and have another component in the brake system replaced as well. It cost more than it did to fix the short in the wire, but it was less than having an accident at the intersection and … Bonus! The problem has not recurred.
So when the second mechanic in two months told me it was “just a short in the wire.” I was not reassured. I insisted we have it checked out at another place. There the mechanic replaced a fairly inexpensive brake cylinder where the fluid had been seeping. The warning light turned off. It had done its job.
After a month of warning lights and crises, I’m ready for a break … at least until we pay for the ones on the car and get past the initial shock and recovery phase.