Connecting Rod Ch. 07-08

I looked up as a very young-looking doctor walked briskly into the room.

"Well, look who's awake and smiling," he said cheerfully.

I stepped away as the doctor moved in to examine her. He shone a penlight into each eye as he looked carefully at the reaction of her pupils.

"How are you feeling?"

"Awful. Headache. My eyes hurt. My butt is sore and my back hurts. That's it, I think," she said, now speaking more clearly.

"Well, you had a bad fall and a nasty crack on the head. I'm not surprised about the headache. The other stuff is bruising from the fall. Maybe some muscle strain as well. Maybe you can get your husband to give you a massage when he gets you home," he laughed.

"He's not my husband," she blushed.

"Yet," I interjected.

"Oh ... well ... I'll leave it up to you two to decide on the massage," he grinned.

"Michelle, I want you to answer some questions for me, OK?"

"Sure ... but most folks call me Shelly," she said with a faint smile.

"Shelly it is," he said pleasantly, and began to ask her questions that would establish just how clear her memory was.

"What day is it?"

"I don't know."

"What day was the last one you remember?"

"Wednesday ... no wait ... Thursday."

"What month?"

"May?"

"What is your date of birth?"

"October 1, 1945."

"What are your parent's names?"

"Uhmmm ... Florence I think and Walter."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No ... I don't think so."

"You don't seem very sure about your parents or any siblings. Why?"

"My mother left home when I was little. I hardly remember her. I don't know if there were any brothers or sisters. If there were, they'd have to be younger," she said clearly.

The young doctor smiled. "You are doing remarkably well for someone who's been unconscious for more than three days. As far as your memory goes, you know who this guy is?" he grinned.

"Yeah ... that's Rod. He's my ... boyfriend," she said tentatively.

"I'm about to change all that," I said with a big smile.

"You are?" she asked apprehensively.

"You remember what we were going to do on Saturday night ... last night?"

She looked uncertain for a moment and then smiled. "You were going to take me out to dinner and dancing. You wanted me to wear my nice dress," she said happily.

"Yeah, well, things didn't quite work out, did they?"

"No ... I guess not. But maybe we can do it again when I'm better," she said hopefully.

"Count on it. But last night was going to be very special."

"Why?" she asked, puzzled.

"Because," I paused, reaching into my pocket. "Last night I was going to give you this and ask you if you would marry me," I whispered, opening the little velvet blue box and taking out the ring. "Will you, Shelly? Will you marry me?"

She couldn't speak, but she could nod and smile through fresh tears as I slipped the ring on her finger.

"Well that's a first," Dr. Thorson laughed. "The poor girl's only been awake for ten minutes and she has to make a life-changing decision. Are you sure you're up to this, Miss Dawson?"

Shelly nodded, but then grimaced in pain. "Yes, I'm sure," she managed through clenched teeth.

"OK then. But don't go shaking your head too much. As you've already found out, it's going to hurt. Take it easy, you two. She's going to be here for a while. She isn't all better yet." He flashed a big easy smile and walked briskly out of the room.

I moved back to her side and sat in the chair. "You know, I was going to get down on one knee in the restaurant and ask you to marry me. I had it all planned. Wait 'till we tell our kids I proposed to you in a hospital bed."

"Our kids?"

"Well, yeah. You do want children, don't you?" I was concerned, remembering we had never even approached the subject before.

"Only if they're yours," she smiled.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "How many?"

"I don't know. I never thought about it. Anyway, what's the rush? We aren't married yet." She had a funny smile on her face. She was teasing me, her new fiancé. She looked at the ring. "It's beautiful, Rod. It fits perfectly."

I leaned over the side rails and kissed Shelly gently. "I love you, Shelly. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn't know what to do. I felt so helpless. It was all my fault," I said sadly.

"I love you too, Rod. I didn't know how much I could love someone until I met you."

"Mom helped me pick out the ring. She's the one who knew what size to get."

"She's going to be my mom for real, soon. She makes me feel so good, Roddy. I am so lucky," she sniffed.

"They're going to kick me out of here. It's already past five and 'dragon-lady' will be out looking for me for sure."

"And here I am," the stern nurse announced as she marched into the room. "You can come back tomorrow if you behave, young man. Otherwise, I'll have you doing your visiting out in the parking lot," she said in a firm voice.

"Yeah ... OK ... I surrender," I smirked, shrugging my shoulders at Shelly.

"So ... let's have a look at the rock, Miss Dawson. Thorson said it was a dandy," she grinned as she walked to the other side of the bed and picked up Shelly's left hand to examine the ring. "Not bad. My old man never gave me anything as nice as that. Maybe if he had, I might have kept him around a little longer," she harrumphed.

Shelly was giggling as the nurse fussed with the settings on the I.V. and other tubes.

"What are you still doing here, buster? I thought I told you to hit the road. You can come back here tomorrow and visit if you're nice to me."

I just laughed and leaned over, kissing Shelly and waving goodbye as I slowly left the room. I couldn't believe how much better I was feeling. So much had happened in such a short period of time. No one knew Shelly had awoken, I realized. I raced down the stairs and out to the parking lot.

Chapter 8: Little Steps, Big Steps

May 25, 1969

"She's awake!" I yelled as I burst through the front door, startling the people in the living room. "She's awake!"

My mother rose with a look of surprise, and then joy. "Oh Roddy! Is she going to be alright?" she asked as she moved to embrace me.

"Yeah ... I think so. She can't come home right away, but ... she seems to be OK."

"Oh, thank God!" Mom gasped as she turned back to the living room.

When the commotion settled down, I had a chance to tell everyone that I had given Shelly a ring and we were now officially engaged. The mood in the room, already bright, was improved that much more. A Sunday supper turned into a celebration for two big events.

Shelly wasn't released until the following Friday afternoon. She had some trouble walking at first. Her balance was unsteady and she felt dizzy when she stood. The hospital provided a walker for her, and between Monday and Friday morning she had improved to the point where she just needed it for safety. She was still having some trouble with dizzy spells when she stood or moved too quickly, but the headaches were lessening and her ability to concentrate was improving. It was, as the doctor said, a matter of time and rest.

Mom and I brought her home and had her sit in the living room. She could watch TV or just rest. She wasn't able to read with any comfort as her concentration was still weak, and the eye strain produced headaches. For the time being she was confined to the lower floor until bedtime when I would help her upstairs to her room.

We talked a lot during the evenings. The wedding date hadn't been set and since it was already mid-May, there wouldn't be a June wedding. Shelly didn't mind. There was no rush. She had her ring. It hadn't left her finger since it was returned to her before she was wheeled out of the hospital. It was the inspiration for her to get well.

I returned to work that week with a renewed enthusiasm. Shelly was going to be alright. It was just a matter of time. I would let her and my mother decide the details about the wedding. All I cared was that it would happen.

The decision was made for an early September ceremony at First Presbyterian, our neighborhood church. Mom had visited Pastor Ford to discuss the arrangements and set the date. She explained that when Shelly was well enough, she and I would come in to talk with him. He was satisfied, knowing of the accident, and grateful that the prayers for her recovery had been answered.

I had continued to attend church after that first fearful Sunday. I thought myself a hypocrite if I was just there for my own selfish needs. Mother and I had been welcomed by the congregation and Pastor Ford. Jurgen had joined us as well. He hadn't been in a church since his childhood in Dresden. He was a nominal Lutheran, but in the company of Mother, Shelly and me, he was comfortable in our local house of worship.

It took Shelly almost three weeks to recover enough that she felt safe climbing the stairs on her own and walking in her neighborhood. She and Mom would walk for an hour after breakfast and again, when Mom did her shopping rounds after lunch. It was good exercise and helped restore Shelly's health.

Shelly was surprised at how many people took the trouble to ask about her and wish her well. It was a big boost to her spirits. She was used to being invisible, but that was no longer the case. When Mom had posted the notice of our engagement in the local paper, she had included a picture of us.

Shelly joined the rest of the family at church. She was grateful for their prayers and although she had no idea if she had ever been baptized or which denomination her mother or father was, she was satisfied with the nearby church and felt comfortable with Pastor Ford.

It was nearing the end of the school year and I chose to tough it out at the station, not hiring a temporary to replace Shelly. I hadn't yet discussed a return to work with her. I wasn't sure if she wanted to or not. It was a subject that I would have to face sooner or later. As it was, I was working long hours at the station just to keep up with the workload.

Duke was a big help. He was not only there in the afternoons, he was working late with me to complete jobs that Shelly might have handled. Jurgen worked at his steady, productive pace and we were able to keep up with the flow of business. That flow was still increasing. Mike, of course, was available for the grunt work on the weekends and both he and Duke would be full time at the end of the school year.

Duke and his girlfriend Shannon were an unusual couple. The slim, very attractive young woman was forever at Duke's side. She was a McLaren, and the McLaren's were old money. Duke was from "the other side of the tracks," and I wondered just how well her parents were dealing with their daughter's boyfriend. But then, Duke wasn't what he seemed to be at first look.

People were bringing their cars in for pre-vacation servicing now. I had promoted just such a service, requiring us to go over all the main systems of each car to make sure it was safe and in good running order. For $19.95 it was a bargain, and to my surprise and delight it was also very popular. At first, the inspections were entrusted only to me and Jurgen, but by mid June, I was confident Duke could handle the procedure as well.

The first anniversary of our arrival in Bellingham had slipped by unnoticed by almost everyone. Everyone except Mom. She was reflecting back on the past year after the July monthly meeting. She was thinking how much had happened and how much had changed in our family in the past thirteen months.

We had upped stakes in Cut Bank and moved to the west coast. We had purchased and renovated a service station in the heart of the town. We were now owners of a fine old home in the same part of town. I had become engaged to a very nice young woman who was living in our house. Jurgen and my mother had become close as well. We were now responsible for four employees outside the Williams family.

Mom reminded me often that the growth had been phenomenal. Still, it had been done in the same way we had run the ranch -- conservatively. The debt was manageable, the business was profitable almost from the beginning, and it was growing steadily. She voiced her concerns where all this would lead and how long she could contribute her skills. She said she was happy, but uncertain about where this would take us in the next few years.

That summer, the growth in business and profitability of the station continued on an upward path. It was becoming plain to both Mother and me that we were nearing the breaking point. We soon wouldn't have the resources to accept any more business. A big decision was at hand.

At the monthly meeting in early August, I addressed the group with our concerns.

"Folks, we've become too successful for our own good. We are going to run out of capacity sometime soon. As it is, we're working very hard just to keep up now. I've been talking to Mom about this and I'd like to get a few things out on the table today.

"Now that Shelly is back ... that helps with the manpower situation. Still, it's just a two-bay garage, so no matter how many people we have, we can only do so much work. I'm open to suggestions."

"What about a night shift?" Duke asked.

"Possible, but has Shannon given you an OK for that?" I laughed.

The dark-haired beauty poked her boyfriend in the arm. "No she hasn't," she stated emphatically.

"Perhaps if we had another station..." Jurgen suggested, his voice trailing off.

"That thought crossed my mind too. But that means running a complete operation. Right now we just need a shop," I said.

"You know that old brick warehouse a couple of blocks above us on J St. off Bancroft?" Duke asked. "I've had my eye on it for a while. It's been empty. I think the owner gave up trying to sell it and there's a rental sign on it now. Looks like it has a high ceiling. We might be able to use that as a shop," he suggested.

"I can't think of the one you mean. Why don't we go have a look at it tomorrow, Duke? It wouldn't be hard to move cars over there to work on them if it's only three blocks away," I noted.

"I'll get the phone number of the agent on my way home," Duke offered.

Monday noon hour, Duke and I met realty agent Tom Humphreys at the vacant warehouse. Humphreys introduced himself and proceeded to unlock the door and guide Duke and me inside.

"There's no power on ... hasn't been for a long time," Humphreys stated.

The skylights in the ceiling provided some light in the building and as our eyes adjusted, we were able to see the interior. It was musty and dank. It had been empty for several years by the look of things. Cobwebs and dust covered everything.

"Floor's not bad," Duke offered.

"Plenty of room," I said. "Looks like about five thousand square feet."

"Forty-four fifty," Humphreys announced, looking at his information sheet.

"We could handle at least six cars in here," Duke suggested.

"Needs some lighting and equipment, Duke."

"Yeah. Especially lighting. Compressor, two-twenty wiring, couple of hoists," Duke said idly as he looked around.

"Big cleaning job," I said quietly to no one in particular. I turned to Humphreys. "How much rent per month?"

"Eight hundred might get it. I'd suggest an option to purchase. If it does what you want, you don't want to have to start all over again," the realtor said.

"I need to talk to the city. Make sure this is OK with them," I said. "What do you think, Duke?"

"I think it's plenty big, but it's going to be a lot of work to get it ready. Rest of the summer and then some, I'm guessing," he said seriously.

"I think you're right. I've already done this once and I don't want to do it all again. We'll need help. Let's go talk to the city, and then we can figure out what's what."

A week later we had city approval to use the building as a repair shop only. No pumping gas and no bodywork or painting. In addition, we had to agree to clean up the property and the outside of the building as well as keep noise to a minimum. The building was right on the edge of the residential area. When I proposed painting the brickwork white, they balked, agreeing instead to a dark red color. The trim would be ARCO blue.

Mindful of the extreme effort required on the station the previous year, I chose to hire painters and summer students to do the strenuous work. Only the floor, cleaned and then epoxy finished, was done by Jurgen, Duke and me. We pondered the problem of putting hydraulic hoists in the rented building, but it was Ted Reynolds who came up with a solution.

Ted suggested leasing surface hoists, now being used in several of the newer stations. Attached securely to the floor, they had the capability of lifting 7500 lbs. to a height of six feet, more than enough for the typical vehicles they serviced. A visit to a station in Everett with Ted convinced us that it was the right solution. We would start with two of the units.

In the meantime, the permanent post-hoist for the service station bay had arrived and was being installed. It would be ready for use within a week. I would breathe a sigh of relief when the last of the pit was covered and the floor was refinished. Shelly was back at the station, but for the time being only pumping gas and running the office. With Duke and Mike, there was no shortage of help in the service area.

With the fluorescent lighting and the inside of the warehouse spray-painted white, the dingy old building took on a new life. It was bright and now clean. A compressor was installed at the back in a semi-soundproofed area. It would run the pneumatic tools and air guns. An upgraded 220 electrical service was supplied for the balance, including the hydraulic pumps for the lifts. If we decided that they didn't want to continue to use the building when the lease expired, we could remove almost everything and the owner would have an improved building to sell.

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My thanks to Erik Thread for his continuing support and excellent editing. Any errors are mine alone.