ANOTHER YEAR... onward! (Part 152d)

ANOTHER YEAR... onward! (Part 152d)

Moira was about to get up and leave when I asked her to wait. Bret had gotten up from his desk so I felt a little more comfortable talking with her with no one listening. I can’t remember my exact words but basically I told her I was surprised to find her daughter there when I walked in. I thought her eyes would pop out of her head. I remember her almost jumping out of the chair and, after a few seconds, with a scowl, asking if anyone else was there. There was no way I could avoid answering a direct question like that but I do believe my facial expression gave the answer before my voice did. That caused her to jump up and swear. “Was there a red car?” I nodded affirmatively. “That SOB! I told him to stay away from her!” I knew she was Irish but I’d not seen that Irish temper before. The only negative emotion I’d witnessed was for her to cry. There was nothing I could say to calm her down as I didn’t know anything about her comment and I was in no position to ask. At that point she started to turn and to leave. I didn’t know how to respond and what to say so I said something really stupid... “Im sorry...”

In writing this I’m not really sure what I was sorry about. Was it that I told Moira about finding her daughter in the unit? Was it that the girl had disobeyed her mother? Was it that the situation was something that she didn’t need at this time in her life? In any case she gave me a half smile and went on her way.

On the ‘home front’, with Elle teaching full time there hadn’t been much time devoted to socializing. She’d seen Pat, the PTA (parent teachers association) lady, in and around the school quite often. With the new changes in the school board, requests from the PTA had been more favorably received than in the past. One major one was to create a program of adult education courses at the school in the evenings. It had been approved to started right after the first of the year. The initial ones included beginning guitar, introduction to golf and a basic writing class. But Pat, ever ambitious, was pushing for more, a major fund raising event to be held at the school. She’d been turned down by the previous administration but now things were looking better for it. She’d envisioned having a series of fun, competitive events pitting teachers against parents. The idea was that it would generate not only money but also interest from the student body. She was canvassing the teachers to see who would compete and had gotten Elle to commit. But she also wanted to resurrect ‘the group’ to strategize for the next school board election. I was for the competition part but had reservations about ‘the group’ reconveneing. I’d had enough of that... or had I?

Elle signed up for the guitar course and I for the golf. I expected to see more men than women in the golf program and found myself only one of three males. Of the half dozen women I didn’t know but one. As I looked at them I spied two that were definite candidates to provide VPL’s. Both had nice round bottoms and decent figures. After the instructor went through the general program we were given the opportunity to swing a golf club at wiffle balls. As I watched others put their balls down onto the mat with the rubber golf tee I envisioned some really good VPL’s and also the possibility of a few DP’s as the weeks progressed.

A ‘motor head’ since my early teens, I enjoyed working on cars and motors. However, there were some things I couldn’t do without special equipment. When I lived in the mobile home I could go up to my friend James’ service station to work on my car(s). Now, living ten miles away, it wasn’t all that convenient. The nearest place was at the service garage run by the father my racecar friend, Cliffy, and that was about three miles away. The rear oil seal on my transmission had been leaking for a while but not bad enough that I felt it was a problem... until one morning when I noticed the back of my car was covered with oil. With a lack of oil I would ruin the transmission. It was decision time.

I hadn’t seen Cliffy since before Christmas and when I did he told me that he probably wouldn’t be racing the next season. His father had decided that it was too expensive. When I called to see if and when I could bring my car in he told me to bring it in that Saturday. At the shop I could see the racecar over in a corner covered with dust. The first thing I did was to ask if there had been any change in his plans since the last time I saw him. He told me that he and the guys who worked on his pit crew at the races were going to buy it from his father... and then asked if I wanted to join them. I couldn’t have been more surprised.

All his father wanted was $1,000. Between the five of them they had $800 and needed $200 more. There was no question that I missed being around the race track but $200 at a time I was trying to scrimp the money together to go to Florida AND to take Elle on a special trip for our anniversary was out of the question. But, and this is important... I didn’t say “No.” The ‘seed’ had been planted and they didn’t need an answer for a few months. It took about two hours to fix the seal and it only cost me the price of the seal itself. I thought it was really nice of Cliffy not to change me labor but, as you’ll see, his generosity came at a price. I won’t lie and say that the thought of being co-owner of a racecar in the top class didn’t have my full attention. Besides Cliffy, I knew four of the other guys and one of them, like Cliffy, was a high school classmate of Elle. Driving home that afternoon I suddenly realized that my biggest problem wasn’t going to be the money but it would be Elle.

To be continued...