Saturday, December 16
(Gus)
I knock loudly, push her bedroom door open an inch, and shout through the crack. "Cock-a-doodle-do! Rise and shine, Impatient!"
"What?" is her sleep-scratchy response. "No roosters allowed. Go away."
I push the door open further and peek in, making sure she's covered up so I don't embarrass her. "Not gonna happen. Someone's buying a car today. And her name is Scout MacKenzie." I inhale sharply, a fake gasp. "What a coincidence, that's you."
She opens her eyes and looks at the alarm clock on her nightstand. "At seven-thirty in the morning?"
I nod and smile. "Yup. Don't sass me, dude. Get your ass in the shower. You're skipping your run this morning. I found you a car in Carlsbad. We need to get on the road soon. Franco's picking us up and giving us a lift. I'm going to wake up Pax."
The truth is I didn't really sleep last night because I was too excited about this. I'm forcing them to join in on my mission.
"I hate you," she growls. I'm not gonna even lie, it sounded pretty hot, especially since she was smiling when she said it.
"I know. Hustle, lazy ass." I step out of the room and immediately close the door, because I know she won't get out from under the covers with me watching. And I don't want to hear her smartass reply. Okay, who am I kidding, I totally want to hear her smartass reply, so I crack the door again just in time to hear her say, "Compliments will get you nowhere, lazier ass." And then I shut the door again quickly before the name calling continues.
With Impatient and Pax roused, we get on the road. Franco came by and is dropping us off at the car dealership on his way to Jamie and Robbie's place this morning. Impatient, Pax, and Franco all seem a little sleepy and there's not much in the way of convo during the ride, which is fine. We listen to a new album I downloaded last night instead. Royal Blood. They're wicked good. Heavy bass and drums, the perfect soundtrack for the start of a gorgeous day. I'm into it.
Impatient and Pax have their driver's licenses, but have never owned cars before. Pax didn't need one at the boarding school he attended in Boston, and Impatient always lived in the city where public transit was the way to go. Here in Southern California a car is a little more of a necessity. Impatient's been saving for one. She only wants to spend eight grand. She's been researching models and scouring the internet for weeks. I think she's just scared to pull the trigger, because she's intimidated by the process. Yesterday while they were at work and school I drove up to the Carlsbad Honda dealership and checked out a few. Let's just say some money's already traded hands. She doesn't know that. I hope my cockamamie plan goes off without a hitch or we're walking home.
The sales guy, Donovan, is a pretty chill dude for a car salesman. I thought they'd all just be douches, but we hit it off pretty well. He's waiting for us when we all walk in.
After introductions are out of the way, Donovan leads us to the lot, toward the car I asked them to set aside. Impatient drives the car. She loves it. I can tell. She's not the type to get giddy, but she smiled during the entire fifteen-minute test drive. That's huge. She tells Donovan that she likes it, and that she'd like to discuss the price. As we walk back to the sales office, Donovan looks to me and I nod. We worked through this scenario yesterday. Cramming the four of us into his tiny office, he turns to her. "Well Scout, for that model, we're looking at nine thousand."
She looks puzzled, but ponders this a minute before politely asking, "Can you excuse us for a moment, please?"
After he leaves the tiny sales office, her eyes squint. This doesn't make sense to her. "Something must be wrong with it." Of course she's skeptical. "That car should be at least fifteen thousand based on what I've seen cars listed for on the internet."
I shrug and point to the sales banners hanging throughout the showroom around us. "They're having a sale. I guess this is just your lucky day. Besides, he said it's a certified used car and comes with a two-year warranty. They've already checked it out. I'd say you're golden, if you want it."
She takes a deep breath and looks from me to Pax, and back to me. She wants it. Bad. She's chewing on her bottom lip thinking it through. "I don't really know how to do this. I only have eight and that needs to include fees and taxes. I'm not sure how to start negotiations."
I shrug again. "Don't know what to tell you. I bought my truck off a dude at the beach for two g's cash and some surfing lessons when I was sixteen. Not your standard car transaction. But I'd suspect that if you just cut to the chase and tell Donovan what you want and stick to it, he'll either tell you yea or nay. Either you go home with the car or you don't."
She nods. She's not blinking. She's thinking. Hard. "I really want it."
I smile because it's so cute the way she said it. Cute, but super confident. That rarely happens. "I know you do."
She nods her head and puts on her game face again. "Let's do this." She waves her hand and motions for Donovan through the glass window.
She makes her offer like a boss.
He leaves to consult his manager, but I suspect he just ran to the can. He returns with a paper in hand with some figures scribbled on it. It looks familiar; I went through this same drill yesterday with him.
They accepted her offer.
She's over the fucking moon happy.
We all move to the finance office, again, just like I did yesterday. And she signs her paperwork.
When we're done, they hand her the keys and she clutches them like they're sacred and stares at them the entire walk out to the parking lot. When we reach the back of the car she looks up at me and smiles. I would give anything to freeze time and take in this expression for hours. It's so many good things all rolled up into one: it's confidence, satisfaction, pride, and complete, unbridled joy. And it's not just about the material possession; it's about the process and the accomplishment. She opens her mouth to say something, but then she hugs me instead. She's squeezing the shit out of me and hangs on for probably ten seconds. It's thank you. A million and one thank yous.
She has no idea this car really did cost fifteen thousand dollars. Or that I paid for half of it yesterday.
And she never will.
I made a lot of money off the first album and I still have most of it. I don't spend a lot. I don't need a lot. I'm stoked to share it with people I care about.
She's so proud and happy with herself right now. She rocked the hell out of the negotiations, even if they were rigged. She didn't seem self-conscious at all when she was focused on her task. I think her appearance is always on her mind. Sometimes at the forefront. Sometimes in the back. This morning, it was absent. She wasn't hiding. And it was awesome.
Pax calls out, "Shotgun!"
I reach into my pocket, pull out a key, and toss it to Pax.
He catches it and looks questioningly at it.
"I call shotgun, but you're driving, dude," I counter.
Scout shakes her head. "You've never ridden with him, Gustov. He is not driving my car."
I smile and taunt her. "You're such a pussy when it comes to driving. Seriously, he can't be that bad?"
She's not offended, but she's gone from shaking her head to nodding. "He's that bad."
Pax is pointing to himself. "Standing right here. And I can hear you." It's a reminder, that while she's not offended, he is.
"Well, dude, try not to kill me then. Or wreck your new-to-you car."
His eyes bulge like a cartoon character. "What?" It's loud, which is so unlike him. The people across the lot are gawking at us now.
I smile and point to the car parked next to Impatient's. It's fifteen years old and has a shit ton of miles on it, but it's a clean beater and runs great. It's also Pax's now. I bought it yesterday. "It's yours. We'll call it an early birthday present." His birthday is tomorrow.
He's stunned.
Impatient is stunned.
This is priceless.
I love doing nice things for people. Not that it has to be a grand gesture, because let's face it, a car is a little over-the-top. Just something nice. It's grounding. It reminds me that we're all in this game called life together. It's also circular ... you give it ... you get it.
I gave it.
And looking at them, standing here so gracious, and so happy, I'm getting it back tenfold.
And now it's Pax's turn to hug me.
And then it's Impatient's turn to hug us both.
We're standing here, in a group hug, practically singing fucking "Kumbayah."
The people across the lot are still ogling.
I buckle in next to Pax and ride home with him.
Scout was totally right. Pax could use some lessons in signaling, merging, stopping, and even just keeping the car in his own lane. I'm not a religious man, but I may have recited the Lord's prayer two or twenty times during the ride.
When Pax walks ahead of us into the house, I pause with Impatient outside. "You're right. He's fucking horrible. The dude has no fucking depth perception. He tails the car ahead of him like he's being towed. The passenger side imaginary brake pedal is for real. I wore it the fuck out."
She smirks. "Told you." And holds out her fist.
I bump knuckles. "I need some fucking gum. My nerves are shot."