(The Old Man & the Books)

NOW

(Evan)

I grabbed the last strap that would hold the beautiful steel frame of what would be a kick ass motorcycle. I cranked the latch on the strap to tighten it as I stared at the frame. It amazed me how someone was able to take this metal outline and turn it into a functioning vehicle.

“You keep staring at it, makes me think you want it.”

“No way, Jimmy,” I said. “This is all yours.”

I pulled at the strap. It was tight. This thing wasn’t going anywhere.

I met Jimmy at the back of his flatbed and we shook hands.

“What’s the big plan for it?” I asked.

“Looking black with neon green flames,” Jimmy said. “I have a guy who does these paint jobs where the color changes in the sun. Not like some fucking kid toy or something but the way the reflection is… I don’t know how to explain it. They’ll be neon green flames but as the sun hits it, it’ll look like the flames are moving and changing.”

“Nice,” I said.

“Hey, what about you? When are you going to keep one of these for yourself?”

“Not anytime soon,” I said. “I’m good keeping busy right here like I am.”

“You know, I would have never guessed this kind of work would come from a dump like this.”

“I take offense to that,” I said.

“Take offense to this,” Jimmy said. He pulled out a check.

The number on the check made me smile.

“I’m referring some more business your way,” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, how about some custom sculptures and shit?”

“What about?”

“Grab some old metal. Weld it up. Twist it. Think you can do that?”

“I guess,” I said. “Why?”

“I got a friend you should talk to. He’s an artist type. Strange guy. But he’s loaded. He loves working with this stuff. He doesn’t like welding and all that shit. But he likes to design. He likes to… decorate? I guess that’s the word. I don’t know. He’ll tell you what he wants. You make it. He has his guys come pick it up.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“I’ll middleman it for you, Evan.”

“Thanks, Jimmy. Drive safe.”

We shook hands again. “Hey, where’s the old man at?”

“Sitting in a chair, listening to a baseball game on the radio. Counting his breaths, waiting for one to be his last.”

Jimmy laughed. “I guess that’s the only way he’s going to give up this place, huh?”

I shook my head. “Seems that way.”

“And then you have the other one…”

I turned my head and saw Winston walking along the front of the building. Tall, still wide with old muscle, but he favored his right leg way too much. He should have walked with a cane but he refused to do so because he was so goddamn stubborn.

“This is my life,” I said.

Jimmy suddenly clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Hey. You know I’ve got a few shops around. As far out as Vegas. I know this is a family thing, Evan, but if you ever wanted to get out of this…”

“Jesus, Jimmy,” I said. “I don’t want to hear that right now.”

“Right, forget it. I’ll just give you more business.”

Jimmy climbed into his truck and fired up the angry diesel engine. He drove away as I walked back to the dump of a building. Winston stood there, smoking a cigarette.

“Another one gone, eh?” he asked.

“Another one gone,” I said.

Winston took the cigarette out of his mouth and pointed his fingers at me, the cigarette between his fingers.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you fools were talking about out there,” Winston said. “You really think you want this life?”

“What life is that, Winston?”

“This life,” he said. “You want this shop? This building? The headaches?”

“Who do you think runs this place now?” I asked. “Huh? And I never asked for anything. This is all the family I’ve got, Winston.”

“Ah, horse shit on family,” he said. “I don’t know where your generation gets all this family stuff from. Too much TV.”

Winston put his fingers to his head and I swore he was going to burn what little hair he had left with his cigarette.

“You know Jimmy just offered me a job,” I said.

“So take it.”

“This place would collapse in a month.”

“So what? Fuck it. We’re old. We’re going to die eventually.”

“What the hell is this, Winston?”

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and then started talking. “I’m going to tell you something.” Smoke puffed from his mouth as he spoke. “Your uncle almost lost this place a few times. This is all he has left in life. Those that left. Those that died. He trusted someone one time to help around here and you know what? That motherfucker took all the money.”

“What? Who?”

“Doesn’t matter who,” Winston said. “That fucker robbed your uncle. Right in front of his face. I caught him too. Caused a problem between me and your uncle. Almost didn’t make it through it. He wised up though.”

“Called the cops?”

Winston laughed. “Ah, Evan, you don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

Winston put the cigarette in his mouth. There was something about the old guys when they put their cigarettes in their mouths they looked thirty years younger. And cooler, like they belonged in a cowboy movie.

“Guys like me and your uncle don’t call the cops. Understand?”

The cigarette bounced between his lips.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Please don’t tell me there’s a dead body somewhere hidden around here.”

Winston grinned. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth. “Here’s what I’ll tell you. That son of a bitch never stole again. And I stuck by your uncle’s side after he fired everyone else. So him bringing you on board is a real show of faith. Letting you run the business. Letting you grow the business. You want to see the books? The money? Good luck. But I promise you, your uncle doesn’t spend a dime.”

“I would never suggest that, Winston. I’m here. That’s all I’ve got right now.”

“Because you’re finally distracted. Aren’t’cha?”

“Piss off, old man,” I said and walked away.

Winston laughed.

I knew what he was talking about. He was talking about me and Adena. My daily routine had been to work, clean up, and drive to meet up with Adena. She was all I thought about. During work, after work, in the middle of the night when I was alone in my bed. I was breaking all the promises I made to myself. I made to others.

The truth in the story was that I didn’t mess up Adena’s life. Someone else did. In my heart I could have saved her from so much pain and I didn’t.

I walked into the front of the shop and Uncle Davey reached for the counter and forced himself to stand. He had the same grumpy look on his face as always.

“You get that check?” he asked.

“Of course I did,” I said. “Right here.” I slapped it to the desk.

Uncle Davey grabbed for it.

I nodded.

I understood it now.

He was worried about the money. And I guess rightfully so.

He put the check down and looked at me. “Get it to the fucking bank, Evan.”

I grabbed the check and nodded. “I know, Uncle Davey. Nothing to worry about. Jimmy said he’s sending us more work too.”

“Hey, that’s a good thing,” Uncle Davey said. “Now cash that fucking check, Evan.”

“Right,” I said.

I smiled.

“What’s so fucking funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. Thanks for letting me work here. I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you or not.”

Uncle Davey stared at me like I sprouted a second head.

I left the shop, fucking check in hand.

I looked at the time and smiled.

The shop, Uncle Davey, Jimmy, Winston, money, history, family, whatever… it all slipped out of my mind.

I only thought of one thing.

Dena.