On My Own - Cover

On My Own

Copyright© 2009 by Dual Writer

Chapter 10

Ah, a wonderful morning. Every time you wake up is a great day, I've made it again.

I only walked slowly for a half hour this morning, then cleaned up real quick and dressed before walking between trailers to get to Steve's. I had a quick cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich before Chuck drove up, ready to go.

Downtown, we parked in the Federal garage and went into a small office on the main floor. Inside was a guy in blue pants and shirt, a uniform with a Deputy Marshal logo on it. Chuck introduced me, "Mark, this is Hank, Hank, Mark. Hank, this is the guy whose car the agents failed to lock up that was stolen and salted. We owe him. When we talked yesterday, you were interested in an old bike, well, he's got one. You saw it while we were searching out there. Is it worth the difference between his Bronco and the SUV I don't know what to do with?"

"Probably," Hank said, and looked at me. "Are you still going to want to ride? Do you have something else to ride or are you going to be looking for something?"

"I have to look for something. I want to ride, but I need a car more than a bike."

"Come look at what we have and you decide. I might have something to throw in, but you can be the judge."

We went up in the elevator to the fourth floor where Hank led us to a beautiful carmine Escalade. He said, "Would you be willing to take this in lieu of your old Bronco? It would cost some extra and you could use your old Harley as a trade."

I said, "What in the world would I do with a Cadillac Escalade. That is so beyond me that it makes me laugh. Come on, this is for some fancy guy, not someone like me."

Chuck said, "Look, this is the easiest way to take care of you. Just think of it as an opportunity to have something special."

Shaking my head, "I'm just not a Cadillac kind of guy. That's a beautiful car, gorgeous even, but I could hardly change the oil in that thing, much less keep it running right. Who knows how to work on those things, I sure don't."

Hank said, "Come here, look at this and see what you say." He walked us down a ways and showed me what looked like a late model evolution Harley. The bike was an FLH sport with a windshield and hard cases. It was the right color, a dark sparkly blue over white. The bike was nice looking. Hank flipped the ignition on and pushed the button. The Harley started instantly and sounded good. I waved and he shut it down.

"I'll give you this bike and that car for your old bike and for the loss of your Bronco."

"You're not nice, Hank. I love the bike, but the car is not my kind of car."

Chuck said, "If you took the Escalade, I know a lady that will trade you out of it quickly. Just tell her what you want and she will get it for you and give you cash for any difference. Now how about it?"

"Only if you're sure I can unload that gaudy thing. I can't drive a car like that around my friends. That is just too much for a guy like me."

"Then we have a deal?" Chuck asked.

I took a big breath and nodded, "Deal."

Hank said, "I'll load the Harley up and come out and get your old bike. That one is for me. I'll pay the service for the difference and you get this jewel of a car and a real nice bike. Go with Chuck so they can do all the title transfer stuff. Jan should have everything ready in Wanda's office."

We walked across the street to the Federal building and took the elevator upstairs. There were two nice girls in Chuck's office. I recognized the little oriental dark girl. She was the girlfriend or wife of the airplane mechanic, Jimmy. I asked questioningly, "Angie, right?"

The little girl smiled real big and said, "Right. Nice to see you Mr. Robins, are you feeling okay since you were shot?"

"I'm fine now. I'm healing quickly, thank you for asking."

I met Wanda who was Chuck's office manager. She was a tall, really attractive, lady who seemed a little stuffy. I had to show them my driver's license and my insurance card. They even called my insurance agent to tell them what they were doing. Wanda handed me back my card and license, along with a stack of papers. She said, "You can go by the tax office on the way home. Make sure you give Hank the title to your old bike. I think the Marshal Service thanks you for getting that vehicle off our hands. Thank you, Mr. Robins."

Chuck followed me out of the office and walked me back over to the garage. Hank had the bike up on a small flatbed, tied down real well. He tossed me the keys and said, "After you drive that thing home, you may not want to get rid of it. If you do, the lady's name and phone number are in the glove box. I already called her and told her the car might be available. It will be up to you."

I followed Hank out of the city and he went straight to the title office. I told him that I might just pass on registering the Escalade today and let the possible new owner pay all those taxes. He said he didn't know how that would work, but it was up to me. I did register the Harley and picked up the tag.

Out at the trailer park, I pulled my truck cart out of the shed and let Hank push the old Harley out to put it on the flatbed. He said, "This is nice, I may be getting the best part of all of this. I hope you get a car that you want. Pick one out first and tell the lady. Let her attorney figure it all out and make your deal. She'll still get a good deal, because she really wants that Escalade."

We put the new Harley in the shed and I put the cart back in as well. I decided there was no time like the present to call this lady. The note said the lady's name was Bobby so I called her.

A man answered the phone and I identified myself and asked to speak to Bobby. He grumbled and grunted then called out for Bobby. A sweet voice said, "Are you the man who has the Escalade?"

"I am."

"Good, what kind of car do you want in trade?"

I said cautiously, "I want a Ford Escape. They're not too expensive and are about the same size as my old Bronco. It can be about any color with the necessary options. Have your lawyer make up the deal so I don't have to pay a lot of registration and taxes."

The sweet voice said, "And how much extra do you want?"

"Nothing, Ma'am. Get me an Escape and we have a deal."

After some conversation that I couldn't understand, the man got on the phone. "Are you working some kind of scam? You have to get some extra over the Escape, how much?"

Not knowing what to answer, I said, "Tell you what, get me the Escape, make sure I don't get stuck with any of the taxes, title fees, and license fees and then you give me what you think is fair. That will be the deal, period."

The gravely voice said, "I can live with that. Do you want autographs or pictures or anything?"

Who the heck was I talking to?

"No, just have your lawyer meet me with the Escape and I'll give him the Escalade."

Gravel voice asked, "Give me your number and I'll have my guy call you to set up the meet. No funny business now."

"Nope, no funny business. I just want a plain car, not some fancy Cadillac."

The man was laughing as he hung up on me.

I barely had time for a drink of water before the phone rang. A voice asked "Mark Robins?"

"That's me."

A formal sounding voice said, "I will go and purchase you a nice Ford Escape and meet you. Where would be a good place and what time."

"How about a place called Park Place. I'll meet you in the bar and billiard hall. You name the time."

The formal voice said, "It shouldn't take me more than a half hour to buy your car and get a cashier's check for you. The difference will be between the price I pay for your Escape and the book retail for the Escalade. Is that good with you?"

I was almost laughing, "Perfect. When?"

"My name is James Carrington and I will meet you in one and a half hours. Please be punctual."

"See you then, Mr. Carrington."

It was getting to be lunch time, so I drove the Escalade over to the patio for lunch. Martin began razing me about the fancy car I was driving. I had to tell everyone a little fib. I said I was driving it to swap for the car I was getting for the feds losing my car. I did say that it was a confusing deal and I thought everyone would be happy. We discussed the Ford Escape. None of us knew a lot about the Escape except that I knew it looked nice and was good on gas.

After lunch, I headed straight to Park Place. I went in and used a coin table to shoot some pool balls for a while. When it was time for the man to get there, I waited at a table, watching the parking lot. The Escalade was parked in front, so I knew it would be a magnet for the guy coming. What do you know; a carmine Escape was parking next to the Escalade. Son of a gun, it even had a sunroof. Oh well, who cares. This was probably the last car I would ever have or need.

The man came in and I waved at him. I had a stack of papers for him and he had some for me. The first thing he asked was, "Can we drive to the tax office and sort these two cars out? That way I can see how the car drives and we can take care of this all at one time."

"Good with me. You drive the Cadillac and I'll drive the Ford."

With a smile, we went out to the cars where I backed out and let him follow me to the tax office. It took an hour and a half of waiting and sorting out how much was owed and finally paid. We both had tags for the cars, so we went out where the man produced a screwdriver from his briefcase. He smiled, "I was a Boy Scout, I'm prepared."

We laughed as I mounted both tags. The attorney handed me a check for eight thousand, four hundred and sixteen dollars, then asked, "Does that seem fair? The auto dealer gave me the figures after I bought your Escape. The Ford has every option available and was the best on his lot. He did give me a great deal and that enables you to get that check. Are we square?"

"You bet. I'm very happy. Thank you and thank the Bobby lady. This makes my day."

The attorney said, "It makes mine and it will make my client's day as well. Thank you for your cooperation. Have a good day."

Mr. Carrington got in the Escalade and drove off. That was a hell of a deal. Too bad I don't have a garage to keep my new car in. I wonder if there is enough room between the tree and the fence. I could get one of those metal sheds that could house the Escape.

Driving home, I looked at all the options. It even had a GPS in it, as well as an Ipod dock and a cell phone connection to talk hands free. This thing had more power gadgets than the Cadillac. I think I got the better deal. At least my car looked like a common man's car. It was very close to being as big as the Bronco. I did feel a little guilty. I had a brand new car that probably cost a ton, a newer Harley, and eight grand in my pocket. I had to give up the old bike, but I got my money out of it. I looked at what I had as what the bike and the Bronco had been worth. I didn't feel guilty any more."

I parked next to the tree and pulled the cart out real quick. Inside, I changed into coveralls and brought my dirty ones with me. It was three o'clock by the time I was able to begin working on the transmission. I easily found the problem. The shift fork was bent and a lobe was busted from a gear. Nothing else seemed to be damaged, so I called the parts store to tell them what I needed. They said they would have the clutch, gear, fork, and rear seal for me by ten in the morning.

I checked with a couple of guys working on a big diesel engine. One guy said, "The blower isn't pushing enough air through, so the power is way off and the fuel mileage has gone to pot. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong anywhere. According to the meter, the drive sprocket on the fan shaft is spinning at the right speed."

"Let's take off the shroud to see if we can spot anything," I suggested, so the two men quickly took the shroud off.

"Start it up and let's watch the fan and the fan shaft." I stood back, and told the other guys to do the same, so that part wouldn't hit us if it came off.

We saw the problem as soon as the engine started. The shaft had become disconnected from the fan. The shaft and the lower gear were turning, but the fan wasn't turning.

The guys took the drive apart and found that the shaft keeper had broken off between it and the fan. The fix wasn't going to be that expensive, about fifty cents for the little piece of metal. The two guys hollered thanks and I left to go get cleaned up for supper.

Tonight, Martin said, "I was down talking to Betty and saw your new Escape. That's a nice car, much better than that Cadillac."

"Thanks, Martin, I had to do some trading around, but it worked out."

Crystal came in and said, "Thanks, Mark, you helped my two goof offs figure out what was the matter with that blower. They were on that thing all day. I should use you to just wander around and help everybody that has a common sense problem. We'd save a ton of time if we did."

"I'll help whenever I can, Crystal. Just have Kevin tell me who needs help."

Crystal said, "You're doing what really needs to be done. Just taking care of the warranty carts is a big deal. I really appreciate it. Say, isn't that Samantha's old clunker on the lift in the shop?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I'm fixing the tranny, the clutch, and rear main seal. It'll be done tomorrow. I've already changed the timing belt, serviced it, and tuned it up."

Steve said, "That will be the first time that old sled has run right since she's owned it. She's never let anyone work on it and we have some world class motor mechanics living out here."

Samantha came up and said, "But Mark is paying me back, so that's fair. The others were my friends too, but I thought I would be taking advantage of them. Perhaps I can have Shawna paint it for me. I got a nice check from two of the TV stations for my story. They want some more, so I'm working on it. We have some great human interest stories out here. I've found several in the clothing factory that will be real good TV stuff."

It had been a great day. I celebrated with a small Beefeaters and a beer with supper. I hung around and listened to all of the various projects going on within the company, then went home. I was bushed.

I was barely able to wash up before bed. I was really tired.

I woke up at my usual time and got ready to walk. Rain was coming down like crazy. That's what the noise was. I opened the door and screwed the canopy out to shield the doorway from the rain. It actually covered the area all the way to the shed door. I didn't know whether to go over to the patio or just fix my own breakfast this morning.

Oh well, I guess I could get a little wet. I put on a pair of clean coveralls and a cap then pulled the cart out of the shed. This was probably the first time this cart had ever been rained on. It was sort of sad. My new Escape looked good waiting to go somewhere. I thought of what all I wanted to do today so I put one of my little notebooks and a pen in my pocket, along with both my old cell phone that was cut off and the one I had recently purchased.

Driving over to patio wasn't too bad. As long as the rain came straight down, I didn't get wet. I could get rained on if it was blowing, but I was still pretty dry by the time I arrived.

When I walked on to the patio, Sue was sitting on Steve's lap. They were kissing and hugging. I wanted to yell, "Get a room" but Shawna saw me and said, "Those two get like this every morning that it's raining heavy. They met one morning when it was coming down like this. The rain holds some significance for them."

After breakfast, I worked on several warranty problems and finished about ten-thirty. It was still raining, but not heavily, so I drove my cart over to the parts store. They had a box of parts for me, plus all the fluids I had forgotten to order. That's what a good parts store did.

Even though I broke for lunch, it only took me until four to finish putting everything back together on the little car. I had to push everything and not lift or pull anything, so that made the job take longer. I also had to quit several times to help the goof offs that Crystal described. They didn't have a lot of experience and even less common sense. I thought they were both trying hard and I figured I was teaching them. At least I hoped so.

I washed up at the shop and changed into a clean set of coveralls and took a couple pairs home with me. I drove Samantha's little car to the patio to see if she was there. She was sitting on one of the gliders, reading a book. I got her attention and said, "Drive me back to the truck shop to get my cart."

"You're done, really? Let me drive you. Oh, Mark, this is so good. I can do stuff, even earn a living again."

We drove to the truck store and I said, "Drive it and see if there's anything else that needs to be fixed. You can work with Steve and Sue on the parts. My work is a gift."

Samantha hugged me and said, "Thank you, Mark, this is wonderful."

I watched her drive off, grimacing as she missed a gear, ground it into place, and kept going. She needed some instruction too.

Cleaning up at home took only a few minutes. It had finally stopped raining, but it was very humid. Shirley came over and said, "Can I ride over to the patio with you? Betty is going out with her lady friends tonight, so I'm alone. I'll be your buddy tonight, okay?"

I smiled and nodded.

At the patio, Shirley and I had a couple of drinks before supper and joined in several discussions. As the night passed by, Maria came with her kids to tell me, "Remember, I cook for you tomorrow. It will be a great meal. Be hungry."

As the evening wore down, Shirley and I were tired at about the same time. I suggested we go home. She rode with me and watched as I put the cart in the shed. She was still standing there and I asked, "Can I walk you home?"

She smiled and said, "Only if you plan on staying. I think it's time for you and me to spend a night snuggled up together. I want to feel you up against me."

"Shirley, I've already told you. I'm not able to have that kind of fun without help from pills. You're inviting but,,,, "

"Mark, don't be so defensive. I didn't say one word about fooling around, or if you want me to be blunt, fucking. I said I wanted to snuggle, to feel us holding each other. I mean just that, Mark."

I was stumped for words. I offered, "Do you want me to walk you home to get a nightgown?"

"No, I want us to turn up the air and snuggle bare body. We can leave my panties and your shorts on, but I want to feel you up against me, please?"

I opened the door and let her in and I turned on the light so we could see where we were going. As I showed her down the hall, I said, "I have an extra toothbrush if you want one. Let me turn on the bedroom light and I'll lock up and shut the front down."

Shirley did use a toothbrush and when I had finished in the bathroom, the lights were all off except the light in the closet. Shirley said, "Come lay with me, I want to be cuddled."

We lay together for a long while and we both must have had a million thoughts running through our heads. Her body felt good against me. The feel of her older, soft, and saggy breasts against my chest had my thing wanting to get hard, but of course it didn't. It might have twitched once or twice, but that was wishful thinking.

Shirley and I were looking into each other's eyes. She said, "I think I'd like some kisses. That should put me right to sleep."

We did kiss. The kisses were so sweet, and so soft, it almost made me cry. I had missed that in a relationship. Sure enough, both of us went right to sleep."

Lips were kissing mine. How nice. More kisses, and I could feel someone lying up against me. My mind rocketed back to the loving embraces of my earlier marriage. It was Shirley's voice that brought me to reality, "You are so snuggly, Mark. I love the way we hugged all night long."

I opened my eyes and gazed upon Shirley mature face. She really didn't have that many wrinkles, but when she smiled, she had all those wonderful smile lines. I kissed her and was able to see the smile lines wink at me. I said, "I guess it's time to get this day underway."

"If we were twenty years younger, I'll bet I could talk you into staying in bed a little longer."

"I think you could do that twenty years later too, but for different reasons."

Shirley rose up over me and asked, "Would you consider getting some of those pills? I would like that, and I think Betty and Caroline would also. If I'm not mistaken, your little Mexican girlfriend would like that too. What I'm saying is, if you think they would work, get some and let's try them. If you try with me, I promise not to say anything to anyone. It will be our secret however it turns out."

"Oh, Shirley, that is so tempting. I'll ask the doc the next time that I go see him. In fact, I have to go Monday, so I'll ask."

"Good, I want you to try with me and Betty. Whoever else is up to you, but I know Betty wants to cuddle with you too. I just didn't want to wait any longer. So you see, we can enjoy touching without anything else. I'm not sure how long I want you to keep your hands off me, but I do like to snuggle."

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