You walk out to the side yard to turn on the hose and notice the unit sitting there, quiet, rust creeping along the base where it meets the pad. It's a mild spring day, the kind where you don't need heat or cooling yet, so you haven't thought about it in weeks. You crouch down and run a thumb along the rust. It flakes off easy. The panel seams show the same orange streaks lower down, where winter runoff sat against the metal. Nothing is running, nothing sounds wrong, but you know summer is coming and this thing has to carry the load again soon. You straighten up, turn the hose toward the flower bed instead, and tell yourself you'll call someone about it before it gets hot.