Chapter 84

Thankfully, on Tuesday after X-rays and an exam, the doctor cut the cast off. I flexed my elbow, and asked him about therapy. “You should not need any, but pick up a five pound weight and curl it for five minutes several times a day. Thankfully you had no damage to your muscles, and it healed cleanly. Just some strengthening and you should be as good as you were before.”

After four I called Kris, and she came and picked me up and took me to see her uncle. He gave her a hug, and she then introduced me to him as a friend and Pete’s brother. “Oh yes, Marine. He buy several cars from me. Good man, good customer. You need car too? Get crashed like his always do?”

I laughed and shook his hand. “Naw, mine got stolen and burned, but I do need another car.” He asked what I was looking for, and I said nothing in particular so he took me through the lot. And one item in the back behind the shop area caught my eye.

I walked over to it, and Kris even sighed when she saw it. “Wow, that’s still here?” she said, as she walked around it. I asked what it was, and he smiled. “Oh, that’s a kit car. Originally a 1979 VW Beetle, that’s called a ‘Wombat’.” And it was interesting. A convertible, and it looked like a quarter size Hummer. It had two doors, but I saw there were seats in the back. And the dash was largely bare, just the speedometer with the fuel gauge, and a tach next to it. And the stereo in the center.

I walked to the front and popped the hood, and stood there as I looked down into a small trunk. Both of them laughed at my standing there looking in confusion. “No, no, back here! This Beetle, engine in back!” I went around to the back, and sure enough that’s where the engine was. He told me it was a 1.6 liter engine, had fuel injection, and was air cooled.

I walked around it several times, and it did look kind of cute. And with rear wheel drive and the engine in the back it would get great traction in the winter. And it was far smaller than any car I had ever owned. But then again, I did not have to tow anything with it, and my family had vehicles I could use to do that with.

I asked him how much it was, and he sighed. “Problem with this car, I can’t sell it.”

I asked what was wrong. “Oh, it won’t pass smog. I can sell, but nobody will buy a car that will not pass smog.” I shook my head, and when he said three thousand dollars at it sits, I smiled.

“Actually, that’s not a problem with me. I’m actually going to Idaho soon. We ain’t got no smog up there, so that does not matter to me at all. How long can I drive on the paper tag?”

He actually grinned at me, and said that would be good for 90 days. And after I asked he went into the office and came back and handed me the keys. I saw it had a manual four speed transmission, and I started it up. I walked around it as it was running, and it sounded good. And after closing the hood, Kris and I climbed in and took it for a spin.

It was louder than I was used to, being a convertible. And I could tell that shifting this would help me exercise my arm. But it drove pretty well, not a speedster but being so light it had good acceleration for only being a 1.6 liter engine. I took it up to the Simi Valley Freeway and drove towards Canoga Park. And I turned on the heater, and it was coming out pretty hot. Which is something I would need in Idaho in the winter.

I finally turned around and headed back, and asked Kris what she thought. “It’s cute, I’ve actually driven it before. Mom and dad almost bought it for me, but not being able to pass smog was a killer. That’s why it’s been sitting in the back for almost two years. He’s hoping he can find somebody willing to put in the money to replace the engine, or like you that will take it out of state.”

When we got back, I asked him what his bottom line price was. “Oh, three thousand is bottom line price. Feel free to ask brother, I always give him low price. Usual sale price to others is five thousand. Is custom car, not many like this around.”

“Well, you got that right. I’ve sure as hell never seen one before. OK, I know this has been sitting for a while. Throw on four new tires, and you got a deal.” He chuckled, and said that would not be a problem. We went inside to do the paperwork, and he said to come back in two days for the tires.

He taped the temporary registration in the rear window, and told me if it took me longer to get it out of state to return and he could play with the paperwork a bit and extend it for another three months. “But no longer, once I can do and say it had to come back for work. If I try twice DMV will start asking questions.” And after hugging Kris I headed on back to Linda’s. She came out with Sherry to check out what I had gotten, and laughed. “Oh, what is it with you Culver’s and four wheel drive vehicles?”

“Well, in Idaho they make sense. But believe it or not, this is just a two wheel drive VW Beetle. It simply has a custom body on it so it looks like a Hummer.” And she actually opened the rear and looked at the engine and nodded.

“Well, I think it’s the smallest car I’ve ever seen any of you drive. About the size of Mandy’s Spider. But it does make sense.” The two of them climbed in after I moved over the car seat, and I drove us to get some burgers. Sherry spent some time in the play area, and when we were ready go to I asked Linda if she wanted to drive back.

“Thanks, but I can’t. I actually never owned a car with a stick shift, and don’t know how to operate one.” But on the way back, she told me that apparently Peggy had got something similar many years ago. “It was called a Volkswagen Thing, a bit like this but bigger. And one thing about her uncle, he loves collecting unusual cars.”

When we got home I called my dad, and told him what I had bought. He laughed, and I promised to send some photos in a little bit. And when I told him about the smog, he said not to worry about it. “That will not be a problem here. And you said three months on the temporary registration? If you are going to be there any longer, just make a trip up here first. Then you can register it and take it back down without a problem.”

I thanked him, and went out to take some photos and send them to mom. And I went ahead and sent them to Pete and Mandy also.

About five minutes later Pete called back and asked what in the hell that was. I laughed and told him about my new car, and when I said where I had gotten it he laughed. “Oh, I bought a lot of cars from him over the years. The 4-Runner that was destroyed in Yuma, the replacement Toyota, even my first shop truck came from him. Heck, even the Scout we have now came from there. It’s actually the Bicentennial edition convertible, but we painted the hard top from my old one so it would match. That was still in the back from when my first Scout was wrecked.”

“Wow, now that would be nice to have. I did ask, but he said they did not make a hard top for this. But they have been promising one for over a decade now.”

“Oh, if you want a hard top, we can do that when you get up here. You may not know this, but the factory where they make the cases was originally an RV plant. And some of the guys that work there used to make campers. I’ll ask around, but I bet some of them could make a hard top. We’ll drop it and the Scout off with them, and see what they can work out. They’re already on the payroll, and they might enjoy the change and the challenge.”

I thanked him for that, as in the winter having a hard top would be a huge help. Driving any distance in an Idaho winter with a foot of snow on the ground would not be fun at all in a convertible top. Let alone like it was now with no top at all. I just hoped it did not rain before I got back to Idaho.

The next week I went to CSUN and took another exam, and was eating lunch in the Student Union when Shawna came over. She gave me a hug, and asked me how I was doing. I told her I was pretty much recovered from the attack, mostly it was still occasional headaches and discomfort if I sat for too long.

She had just finished her last class of the day, so after eating we took a walk around the campus. And I decided to take a chance and asked her if there was something wrong with me. She stopped and cocked her head, and asked me what I meant.

“Well, to be honest ever since we broke up I’ve pretty much been single. Dated some gals here and there, but it never got serious. And at least two gals told me they could never actually date me, or anything more than what we had going on.”

And when she asked what that was, I looked in her eyes and said that several had called me a “boy toy”, and that I was really only good for a “bootycall”. She reached out and took my hand in hers and squeezed, then shook her head.

“George, if they said that, it’s more about them than it is about you. I always thought you were a great boyfriend, and even though we started as booty calls it became something more. But you lost your way for a bit and I had to move on. And I have to say, I’m impressed now. You went from being on the verge of being flunked out to graduating ahead of me. If I had known you would get this much drive, we might still be together. But at that time, you did not have that.”

“Well, that and almost getting arrested helped me straighten out my priorities. So you think in the end we could have gotten married?” I asked that softly, but had what Crystal had said to me in the back of my mind.

She smiled and nodded. “Well, that could have happened. I did love you then, still do now but in a different way. Why do you ask?” I told her about Crystal telling me she would never seriously date somebody that’s not Jewish, and she sighed.

“Well, I guess I can see that in a way. It’s more than just religion to her, its part of her identity, her heritage. I’m black, and to be honest I never had any thoughts of dating a white boy before you. But it also would not have stopped me either, as you well know. What was it your brother said, back in the hotel that night?”

I thought back, and nodded. “He said he was first and last an American. And after that a Marine. Those ignore race and religion and are open to anybody. All the others, Indian, Irish, Christian, all the other identities come in very distantly behind being an American.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly right. I guess you can say that’s me also. An American first, and black second. And they would not even have to be American, after you I did date a Mexican for a while. As in, he was a student from near Mexico City. But we were incompatible for other reasons so it was only for about a month. He had a disdain for most ‘Americanos’, and did not see me as being a ‘real American’ because I was black.”