Andrea Millhouse Pt. 09

Many of these examples of "Detroit Iron" had already outlived their owners by a considerable margin, I knew. In looking at the majestic rows of vehicles I knew that each of their individual life's stories was as unique as the cars themselves. They had been commandeered by high-school students, dentists, waitresses, factory workers, house wives, politicians, post war World War Two fighter pilots and even murderers evading the law, -the cars had seen it all.

It was no wonder that Andrea wanted to film a video here, the place had eerie and intriguing sensation about it and the ghost of Tyrone Stills, the yard's founder, seemed to have an ominous presence as well. Hans had elaborated that the aging Tyrone Stills had eventually killed a man over a card game and then vanished into the Desert in nineteen fifty five, never to be seen again...

"OK, honey, put on your sunglasses and stand at the other end of the line of cars and do as I instruct you. Don't worry about noise or any other sounds; I'm going to dub the video with a Desert wind sound" Andrea now said as she squatted at the far line of the vehicles and began filming me.

I began walking towards Andrea with an air of sophistication, like I owned the place, like I was a movie star.

"OK, stop and look off into the Desert to your right and put your left foot on the bumper of that green car." Andrea instructed me.

Andrea then came beside me and instructed me "Now put your boot up on the bumper again, ...do it again ...one more time and hold it there, I love those boots and want to capture the side profile of them." She said holding her camera only inches from the front bumper and my boot.

My boots were "Dingoes" with the leather straps and small metal rings on each side; they drove Andrea out of her mind. I wasn't really sure what Andrea was doing with the video she was creating but I had a general idea that she wanted a similar effect of something Sergio Leone would do in one of his Westerns.

Sergio Leone's cinematographic style and skills were famous for capturing the large, overall picture and then scrutinizing the minute details. I believe this effect is what Andrea was trying mimic as Kathy played with Goldie and the two feral cats, just a few yards away from us. Andrea and I played around with video shots and filming for thirty minutes, she then turned me loose and told me I could begin the truck project with Owen, Hans and Dean.

"I'll continue filming throughout the day, just ignore me" She now instructed me.

"You're the only woman that's ever wanted me to ignore her" I said pulling Andrea to me and smacking her on the lips with a kiss.

"I'm going to make you a movie star, so do as I tell you, Tim" she said kissing me back.

A few minutes later Owen started the nineteen forty four GMC CCKW truck, which was itself, a Veteran of World War Two. We then began work by hooking a chain to the truck's front bumper and attaching it to the S-Ten, we then drug the Chevy S-Ten over to a cement slab about the size of a two car garage. Next we positioned the Fifty One Chevy fifteen feet from the S-Ten. The concrete slab would give us a nice flat place to work and we wouldn't need to be running back and forth any distance, if we each needed to use the same tools.

"OK guys, go ahead and strip everything off the frame including the engine. Get'er down to bare bones for me but try not to wreck any of the controls, pedals, steering linkage and so on. In the mean time Hans and I will begin taking measurements on the Fifty One." I instructed Owen, Dean and Hans.

Using a pen and tablet then, Hans and I began taking measurements of the Fifty One truck. "What are we going to measure?" Hans had asked. "Anything and everything" had been my answer which we proceeded to do. We also took many photos and even shot some video as well, which we might need for later references while we built one truck from the two. When I was satisfied that we had collected all of the information that we would need, Hans and I began to disassemble the Fifty One, along side of Owen and Dean as they continued to scrap the S-Ten.

Before I realized what was happening, Andrea was asking me if I wanted a Subway sandwich, it was almost noon now, I noticed. After telling Andrea what I would like to eat, I then dove back into the project and seemingly did nothing more than turn around when Andrea and Raven returned with our lunch.

"C'mon, baby, wash-up now, it's time for you to take a break." Andrea said, unwrapping my sandwich.

"K, thanks honey" I said, grabbing the hand cleaner and paper towels.

"How's it going so far?" Raven asked as she bit into her sandwich and began to survey our mess.

"There's a method to our madness, Raven. I think it's going to go together nicely" I said.

Dean and Owen now had the front fenders and cab off of the S-Ten truck and Hans and I weren't far behind them with the Fifty One.

"Hans and I should be ready to remove the cab off the Fifty One shortly and I think we'll be down to two bare sets of frame rails by day's end" I concluded with a mouth full of food.

"Tim, want one of these?" Andrea asked holding up a CocaCola.

"Thanks, yes" I replied as Andrea and I smacked each other's lips.

I looked over at Hans as he stood by the CCKW boom truck, Kathy was sitting on the trucks fender and eating her food as Hans stood and ate his sandwich beside her with Goldie at his feet.

"What kind of truck is that, Tim?" Andrea now asked, looking over at Hans and Kathy.

"Nineteen forty four, GMC CCKW from World War Two" I replied.

"That's what picks-up the heavy pieces for you guys?" Andrea asked, looking up at the truck's A-frame boom.

"Yes it is, honey" I answered.

"Tim, what's CCKW mean" Dean asked.

"It was the Military designation which went as follows: C= year of design 1941: C= standard cab: K= front wheel drive: W= rear wheel drive, thus CCKW. This one is a 'hard cab' meaning it was solid metal; some CCKWs had a 'soft cab' like a convertible car. Studebaker also produced a truck very similar to the GMC CCKW except the Studebakers were referred to as the Studebaker US6. My Grandfather helped build the Studebaker US6 during the war" I explained.

"Wow, that's awesome that this one still functions as well as it does" Andrea said, putting her hand on the truck's boom.

"We've had this one a long time now, Andrea" Tamika said as she gave Goldie part of her sandwich.

"Do you ever drive it?" Andrea asked.

"I have, yes" Tamika replied.

"I'd love to get some footage of you and Kathy driving it!" Andrea said enthusiastically.

"OK, we will, that'd be fun" Tamika replied, smiling.

"She can drive anything with wheels, Andrea" Owen said, kissing his wife.

By five thirty PM the ladies were rousting us out of the yard and telling us to get cleaned up. We were all going out to dinner and we needed to start getting ready. Climbing out of my cover-alls, I was satisfied with the day's work. We had the Fifty One's cab, bed and front end sitting on the ground and the S-Ten frame was bare and ready to be stretched. Tomorrow I would have Dean, Hans and Owen glean the parts that I wanted off the other vehicles while I began my fabrication work. After I had cleaned my hands I walked over to the line of cars and took a few quick shots of the cars with the setting sun in the background and sent them to Ricky "Eat your heart out, brother" I texted and pushed 'send.'

Examining my phone now, I noticed that I had missed several calls throughout the day and that I also had several voice messages all from area code 206. That was the area code for Seattle, I knew, but I didn't recognize the number. I walked over to Owen's truck and jumped up onto the hood and sat down, Hans then proceeded to drive us to the outer gate of the yard, following the white minivan. When we reached the road I jumped down to lock the gate behind us. After securing the gate, I then got into Owen's truck, with Hans at the wheel. Sitting beside Andrea now, I listened to the first voice message which had been left at eleven twenty three AM this morning.

"...This message is for Tim Donovan, I need to speak with Tim Donovan, this is his cousin, Mickey, in Seattle Washington, it's urgent that I talk with Tim Donovan as soon as possible. If you know the where abouts of Tim Donovan have him contact his cousin Mickey as soon as possible I need to..." I hung up the phone and shook my head. I hadn't talked with Mickey for thirty five years and he was already yelling into the phone at me, what an asshole.

"What baby?" Andrea asked, looking at me.

"They're baaack" I said disgustedly, looking out the passenger's side window.

"Who's back?" Andrea asked.

"The Old Man's side of the family is contacting me again, first Auntie Colleen and now her asshole kid, Leon, or 'Mickey' as he likes to be called. Jesus, how do you people find me?" I asked, thinking of Mark's reaction to Andrea and me, two weeks prior, with the words - Jesus, how do you people find me?

I looked again at my phone and saw that Mickey had left me six messages throughout the day. I then sent Ricky another text message, asking if Mickey had contacted him as well.

"Aren't you going to call him back?" Andrea asked.

"Fuck no, I couldn't stand the little bastard, thirty years ago and I can't stand him now either." I said disgustedly.

Andrea rubbed my knee and said nothing as my phone suddenly pinged and alerted me of another text. I jerked the device up to my face, ready to give Mickey both barrels but the text was instead, from Ricky. "Wow cool place where are you? No he hasn't hate the little fucker and he knows it did he call you?"

"What does he want, this guy Mickey?" Andrea asked.

"Probably wants money, he's a conman, Andrea. Lousy way to end a perfect day" I replied sullenly.

"The day isn't over yet; we're all going out to dinner now. Don't answer him, if you don't want to talk to him, Honey" Andrea reasoned.

"I guess it really doesn't matter if ...Hans, stop the car - Hans, stop the fucking car now" I said as my phone began to ring with the same number coming onto the screen with the seventh call, so far today.

"Whaa, what?" Hans asked, shocked at my sudden demeanor.

"Hans, stop the car and let me deal with this little prick" I said with my voice rising, I was suddenly pissed.

Hans abruptly stopped the truck and I got out onto the dirt and walked away from the truck.

"Yeah Mickey" I spoke into the phone.

"Tim Donovan?" Mickey asked.

"Yeah" I replied bluntly.

"Tim, we've been trying to reach you all week, don't you ever answer your -" Mickey began.

" -Mickey, what do you WANT?" I interrupted forcefully.

"...Tim, I'm family, you shouldn't treat me that way" Mickey said quietly.

"What do you want, Mickey" I asked patiently.

"You need to come to Seattle as soon as you can, if you hurry you could still catch a flight out of Anchorage tonight and -" Mickey said before I cut him off.

"NO! I don't need to take a fucking flight ANYWHERE, MICKEY! I haven't talked to you in thirty fucking years but I can see that you're still a little PRICK, oh and by the way, fuck you very much for repaying my three hundred dollars from nineteen eighty three, the three hundred that you said you'd have back to me two days later, remember? What'd you just get out of the joint again and need some money for a crap game tonight Mickey?

You've obviously used-up everyone else so why not call your cousin Tim in Alaska, right Mickey? I think you still owe Ricky a couple hundred and I'd hate to have to even guess what you've fucked my mother out of over the years, you fuckin' PRICK! Why don't we just do this, Mickey, never contact any of us ever again, and we'll call it even, OK Mickey? Is that plain enough for you to understand, Mickey? That's sure as hell a bargain as far as I'm concerned" I yelled into the phone, ready to hang up.

"Tim, wait, don't hang up it's not about money this time, honest" Mickey replied.

"What the fuck do you want, Mickey? Jesus you're as full of shit as ever." I said, closing my eyes, some of my adrenaline having been released.

"Tim, I know it's not always easy to deal with family sometimes, and you and me are family -" Mickey began

"- WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, ASSHOLE!?" I now bellowed, from deep inside myself and into the phone, already tired of Mickey's bullshit.

There was a long silence then and for a moment I thought Mickey had hung up.

"...It's Mom, she's not going to be with us long now and she's been calling for you, Tim" Mickey said quietly.

It would be just like Mickey to come up with some bullshit story like this to bilk people for money but something inside me told me this wasn't the case.

"Jesus, Mickey, she's the only decent one on your entire side of the family, including you" I said evenly.

"I know, Tim" Mickey replied, regret in his voice.

"Fuck, why of all people did YOU have to call me?" I asked incredulously.

"Jesus, Tim, that really hurts" Mickey said.

"It really hurts when people lie to me and fuck me over too, Mickey, so get over it" I replied.

"...(sigh)...Tim, Mom's calling for you and she doesn't have much time left. Do this for me and I'll never ask you to do another-" Mickey began in earnest.

"- STOP with the fucking bullshit, Mickey, your word on anything is completely worthless. Jesus, you're a fucking energy thief ...you've already given me a headache." I said rubbing my forehead.

"Tim, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life but I've always tried to-" Mickey began saying in his own defense.

"WHERE IS SHE?" I asked, cutting Mickey off again.

"...Virginia Mason hospital" Mickey answered quietly.

"I have business in Seattle soon, Mickey, I'll try to see her while I'm there, if I can. I'm committed to a project here until Friday" I said, referring to Owen's truck.

"She may be gone by then, Tim" Mickey said.

"I'll get there sooner, if I can, Mickey, I gotta go now; I have people waiting on me. I'm sorry she's not feeling well, Mickey, all of us loved Auntie Colleen and that is the truth." I said, walking back toward the truck. Mickey and I clicked off without saying good-bye.

The entire conversation had lasted about a minute and a half and I already knew that it'd take me two days to calm down from it. Visions of the Old Man now flooded my mind along with my Uncle Sean. Mickey had pushed a lot of my buttons and dredged up a lot of memories which I would rather forget. My cousin Mickey had grown up a petty thief and conman and he had swindled everyone he had ever known, for money. I really wasn't sure why someone hadn't killed him by now and it was obvious that he hadn't changed nor would he ever.

I was just now beginning to get through the emotional pain and confusion of Mom's passing and here I was stuck within the same scenario all over again only with my Auntie Colleen. ...My God, Mickey was such a worthless little bastard. I kicked the dirt in front of me out of disgust and frustration and began walking back toward the truck.

"Hans, Andrea ...I'm sorry for my outburst. That was someone from the Old Man's side of the family and it can never be good news from that side, ever." I said climbing back into the truck.

Andrea and Hans just sat and stared at me.

"Honey, I'm sorry if I scared you, Mickey and I have a long history and nothing that ever comes out of the guy's mouth is on the level. He's a liar and a thief and I can't stand the little asshole - sorry," I said, holding up my palm, I tried not to use profanity around women but sometimes I couldn't help it.

"I had a nephew like that once, Tim, sad really, when you think about it" Hans said as he put the truck in gear and we started off again.

"Honey, I'm sorry" I repeated to Andrea and closing my eyes.

"It's alright, baby. What's up?" Andrea asked.

"My Auntie Colleen isn't well and my cousin Mickey wants me to go see her" I replied while I began composing a text message to Ricky.

"Are you?" Andrea asked.

"Oh, Christ, I don't know. I should have known that we were having too much fun here" I said disgustedly and glancing out the passenger's window. I then finished my text to Ricky and pushed 'send.'

"Tim, there's nothing that you can do right now, let's sleep on it and just enjoy the rest of the evening, OK, honey?" Andrea asked, looking at me.

"Of course I'll have to pay for my own goddamn plane ticket for this too, even if - sorry ...you're right, Andrea, we'll sleep on it." I said quietly.

My phone beeped again with a reply from Ricky. "Brenda is here, we'll go see Auntie Colleen tonight Virginia Mason is close by Give me Mickey's number."

I shot Mickey's number to Ricky and included "You're a good man, brother" I then put my phone on 'silent.' I took a deep sigh of relief, Ricky you are a good man, I thought, as I closed my eyes. I didn't like it when other people 'obligated' me; maybe that's why I had been single for so long. Mickey had tried to push me into a corner and obligate me, tonight, just like in the old days. I hadn't talked to him in thirty five years but he hadn't changed any in the time that I'd been away from him. Mickey was one of those people that grated on me, he always had.

In thinking of Mickey now, one of Mom's quotes suddenly came to me "If a person has integrity, then nothing else matters, if a person doesn't have integrity ...then nothing else matters." Mickey was someone who'd never had integrity to any degree and never would. I was a person that would give anyone a lot of liberty if they were sincere, but liars and thieves, I had no patience for and Mickey was both.

"Brenda and Ricky are going to go see her tonight" I said to Andrea now, with my eyes closed.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that! Especially since your Aunt Colleen is a nice lady, from your description of her, Tim." Andrea said, taking my hand and squeezing it.

"...She was very pretty the last time I saw her, Andrea, she always was a pretty girl" I said distantly and looking out the window again.

Arriving home, all of us got cleaned up and ready to go out. As was the case before, wherever we travelled, Andrea had insisted that I bring along my sport coat and slacks or "Jim Rockford" as we had coined them. After drying off from the shower I began putting on the attire yet elected not to wear a tie tonight. Secretly I had wanted to stay and work on Owen's truck for a few more hours but had instead decided to get an earlier start in the morning. Whenever I began a major project, I became obsessed and went full tilt into the process until completion. I'd lay awake at nights just thinking about it.

Mom always said that I became extremely intense whenever I began building something and that I changed dramatically and blotted everything else out until I completed whatever it was that I was in the process of creating. "Whenever you or Ricky are in that mode - then I just get out of the way, Tim" Mom had said once. ...Looking at my reflection in the mirror now, I decided to wear a tie after all and selected one from the travel bag.

The meal that we sat down to in Lake Havasu was within a high end establishment called The Montana Steakhouse. The good food and warm comradeship at the table soon made me forget about Mickey and his phone call; the conversation all of us shared at the table now was light hearted and filled with bouts of contagious laughter.

Kathy, sitting in her booster chair, elaborated to all present, that her Grey Grandda was a personal friend of Santa and that the two had known each other for years. Kathy then went on to explain that she had been an extremely good girl throughout the entire year and was predicting a significant windfall when the big day finally arrived and Santa slid down the chimney.

"Obviously she get's that attitude from your side of the family, Owen love" Tamika said rolling her eyes at her husband and drinking from her wine glass.