Object Writing: The Gift

Object Exercise: 03/08/06
Letter
Ladder
Bottle

Piedmont Tire was a long six bay garage. Attached was The Rug Shop: Carpet and Flooring. Together, they looked like a steel forerunner to what would later be known as a strip mall. Pelham, like so many other places in Alabama, had an industrial feel to it, though it seemed more like a pond that was losing its water. Highway 160 lay across the flat land, and gave a clean view to someone on the limited hills that were pushed up in red clay in the area. The even flow of tires and semi’s the only sign that progress made its way through here.

William Piedmont stood in bay 1 just under the shade of the mid morning. He wiped his hands with some pumous soap while he noticed the bits of gravel and sand that half claimed the parking lot. There were more than a few soda tops and cigarette butts out there too. The soap had worked the grease from his hands and he turned to go back inside. A large, double, aluminum bane sink stood outside the bathroom, it’s heavy staining the only indication that it was once a uniform gray. It took time to rinse the soap free, and one often found that a second cleaning was warranted upon careful inspection of the nails. Will pulled a rag from a bucket that sat atop a shelf above the sink. Drying his hands he checked the time on the 7 Up clock on the wall next to bay 2. It wasn’t nearly the time he had thought it was... certainly not the time he had wanted it to be.

Will finished off the water in the sprite bottle he had refilled and then grabbed the handle of the lift and twisted it; sending the candied apple red VW wagon instantly returning to the ground. He positioned the lift off to the side next to the tire machine and eyed the old car. It had been in need of far more repairs than the previous owner could afford - more than anyone could afford in this day and age. Still, the overhaul went well and the engine block was re-bored to give it larger piston heads and greater power. The tires were balding, but were easily replaced with a new set of some Continentals that were always in stock. They were perhaps, the only truly new thing about the car. Will had even thought of putting a set of 721's on them, but the more expensive Firestones were best left to paying customers.

Will opened the driver’s side door and began placing on the cleaned-up interior panel. The dent that had been on the door was minor enough, the plunger proved able to pull the metal back into place. Some tougher dings had taken a careful hand and a rubber mallet to work out. Thank goodness the rest of the body was sound. Some rust spots had developed around the tail lights and along the bottom of the fenders and doors, but a good sandblasting had cleaned those away and allowed for a Bond-O and primer to take their place. Will had completed all the tedious parts he could, and wasted all the time he could as well. Jackson and Leroy had done a nice job in painting the car. They understood the finer points of hot rodding and the importance of a first car. Leroy even added a moon roof and alternated his cursing associated with that installation, some from inside the car, but most from without on the step ladder.

Will eyed the clock again. About that time, Jackson and Leroy were walking in.

"Hey, boss! We’re here!" Jackson shouted, as though the volume would dismiss the lateness.

Will simply replied with a perturbed smile.

Leroy, always quiet, simply moved to the tool counter and took a handful of tools. He moved to the car and started moving trim and interior pieces toward their mounts.

Will threw in, "Hey Jackson, why can’t you be more like Leroy?"

Jackson, not one to miss a chance to insult himself or others fired off without a beat, "I reckon one retarded kid was enough." They all laughed and the work was beginning to settle in.

These were the last touches. The car was nearly complete. The road test had proved a sound engine, and in fact, Will had been using the car for parts run right up until the bodywork and repaint. There were some minor leaks that had been tightened away. Leroy had custom rigged some stereo speakers pulled from other cars and managed a rich sounding stereo system that would surely disturb some neighborhoods. Everything was coming together with an eye toward detail. There was high-gloss and shine to every area; chrome like mirror shards that cut the scenery.

The day was wending toward late afternoon and all had been done. The pretty reborn car that was once a blue silver, now sat anxious to run free under the joyous red guise of a new child. The wait for an arrival of his son now began as Will paced the showroom floor. An envelope sticking out of the chest pocket of his clean coveralls, Will’s fingers nervously drummed in preoccupation as his right hand strayed to the letter to either straighten it there or for reassurance that the moment would come. And in the glint of sunlight on the windows, someone had arrived.