Uncommon Thief
Page 10
Chapter 10
The Accident
The next day, Fred drove to work as usual and parked a few blocks away from the motor pool on Canal Street. It was a narrow street, and with cars parked on both sides, there was only room for one car to pass at a time. After finding an empty spot, Fred carefully backed into it and shut off his engine. As he was opening the front door, he heard tires shrieking behind him, so he looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see a black 1963 Chevy barreling toward him. Glancing to his left, he saw that his door was extended too far out into the street to allow the Chevy to pass. He reached for the handle to close it quickly, but it was too late. The Chevy hit the door head-on, severing it from his car.
Upset but somewhat relieved that he had only lost a car door and not an arm, Fred jumped out of his car and swore at the fleeing driver. After watching the black Chevy disappear around the corner, he looked over at his mangled door in the middle of the street. Unfortunately, there were no witnesses to his misfortune, as the street was deserted. A sinking feeling quickly overcame him as he realized he had no insurance and would have to pay for this repair himself. "Shit!" he yelled, as if someone was there to commiserate with him.
Disgusted, he threw the door into the back seat and walked over to the motor pool. Jim was busy as usual, helping drivers get on the road. As Fred approached, Jim looked up at him and immediately knew something was wrong.
"What's up, lad? You look like your mama just died."
"Some asshole just took off my car door!"
"You're shittin’ me!"
"No. I was just getting out of my car, and this black Chevy comes sailing around the corner and clips off my front door."
"Oh, tough luck, but I guess that's why you have insurance."
"The jerk didn't bother stopping and giving me insurance information. I only have liability coverage . . . couldn't afford comprehensive and collision."
Jim frowned. "Oh, that's a shame. Well, you can't be driving around without a door, now can you?"
"No, but I can't afford a new one either."
"I know where you can get a used door cheap. The owner of the place will even help you put it on."
"Oh really? Where?"
"Loma Linda Auto Salvage," Jim replied. "The owner's an old drinking buddy of mine. When you get in tonight, I'll give you his name and address and directions how to get there."
"Great. I really appreciate that, Jim."
That night, Jim gave Fred directions to Loma Linda Auto Salvage, and the next day, he skipped classes and went there. The salvage yard was surrounded by an eight-foot chain-link fence and guarded by a dog named Prince. As Fred entered the yard, Prince came running at him, barking wildly. Fred was a little scared, but he knelt down anyway and cautiously extended his hand so Prince could smell him. He knew most dogs were friendly by nature and would warm up to strangers as soon as they knew no one meant them any harm. Prince approached cautiously and sniffed Fred’s finger.
"Here, boy. I won't hurt you. Come here."
Prince slowly moved closer and closer until Fred was able to gently pat the top of his head. After a few minutes, Prince and he were friends.
While Fred was petting Prince, the owner showed up, a man named Elmer. He did a double-take when he saw Fred petting Prince. "You're the first person I can remember Prince allowing to pet him. How did you manage that?"
"I love dogs. I guess they can sense I’m a friend."
He nodded. "Hmm. So, what can I do for you?"
"I need a front door for a '59 Ford Falcon. Some jerk ripped mine off yesterday."
"Oh my. I hope you weren't hurt."
"No. Miraculously, I escaped injury."
"Well, let me see. I think I've seen a '59 Ford Falcon around her somewhere. Follow me, and we'll see if we can locate it."
After searching for thirty minutes or so, Elmer found a 1959 Ford Falcon. He said the left front door was Fred’s for thirty bucks. Fred told him Jim had mentioned that he might help him put it on, which he offered to do for an additional ten bucks. Since Fred was not mechanically inclined, he jumped at the offer.
Elmer told him to pull his car into his shop, which Fred did immediately. He pushed an old wheel barrow out to the wrecked car, removed the door, and placed it on the wheel barrow. Then he pushed the wheel barrow back to the shop and installed it on Fred’s car.
Other than the contrast of a blue door on a maroon body, it was as good as new. Fred took the car by the motor pool later that evening and showed it to Jim. He concurred that it looked good and said he even liked the two-tone paint job. Fred thanked him again and went home feeling much better.