Chapter 7

The Mostly True: VII.

I was twelve when I was given my first car. It seems that one of the local black leather jacket, engineer boots and DA haircut types had found a genuine 1932 Ford three window coupe without a motor.

It also seems that he had to take the 1936 Ford DeLuxe three window that sat along side the '32. They were a package deal.

In later years they would be called barn finds, and that's what they were ... found in the back passages of a huge barn.

The barn ... exact location held dearer than the secrets of the Atomic Bomb ... was somewhere west of Peacock, east of Chandler, north of Coleman and south of Clark; that neighborhood is a rabbit warren of short go nowhere roads and others that end in a lake.

The Barn ... red ... as were most Michigan barns ... was in the vicinity of the scavenged Duesenberg and the Cord laying on its side ... both under the apple tree in the front yard of a small white house with brown shutters and blue curtains. General vicinity ... generally.

Did I mention the apple crates?

And the chicken coop?

It also seems that in 1954 the '32 was the coolest of cool and the '36 was NOT. The '32 was straight lines and smooth angles. The '36 was roundy ... almost a soap bubble. The only thing the '36 had going for it was the running 221 cubic inch flathead V-8 that would drop right in the '32. The other good thing about the '36 V-8 was the improvement in sand casting during the last four years.

"Cool car..." I was speaking of the '32 ... running for the first time since 1942. The original engine had been removed to build a doodlebug.

A doodlebug: A Model A Ford sedan with the frame shortened three feet and set up to run in reverse to pull a plow when John Doe Farmer couldn't afford a real John Deere for his acreage. There were a lot of them during the war ... the aforementioned barn was full of 'em ... and others of their ilk.

While I was talking about the '32, I was looking at the '36. Right away I found out we were at cross purposes. I thought '32 ... he meant '36 ... it was, after all, where I was looking.

"There's no motor," he said.

I could plainly see it was running.

My head was manhandled around to look at the '36. "You can have it if you can get it home."

The '36 wasn't the classic shape of 1954 hotrods but it was free.

CharlieB has a license ... and daddy has a Mercury ... a 1951 two door. There's a big stout chain with hooks in the garage. In my pea brained mind I considered asking Chuck to ... Nope ... never happen ... Mom? She hates to drive. Danny? No license...

"Daddy."

"What ever it is the answer is no."

"What makes you think I want something?"

"The pure innocence of your face ... you only have that look when you're scheming."

"Shit."

It was a cold day in hell when I swore. I am nothing if not a gentleman ... it got beaten in enough.

"Well, that important?"

"There's a car..."

He gave me a look that said, "Uh huh," with more sarcasm than you can possibly imagine.