Two Cars?

I sat outside in the street and gazed at my 280E and then gazed at my 9-3. Then looked back at my 280E. I then pondered the two of them.

How long have I had the 280E? I can’t remember now, but it is a considerable length of time.

I feel sad to give it up. I decide that I am going to get the engine repaired. I don’t know how much 6 cyl Mercedes engines cost to rebuild, but I am going to do it.

Let’s get her repaired and then decide what to do with her, with both of them. You know, it isn’t realistic to get rid of the Saab when mum and dad have just handed it over to replace my aging Mercedes. But, if I get, when I get, the 280E repaired what am I going to do with two cars?

Nyr! I’ll worry about that later.

I head inside and call my mate Daniel the mechanic.

“Yeah, ello,” Daniel answered the phone.

“Daniel.”

“Josho, I haven’t heard those dulcet tones…”

“Dulcet tone, are you my grandmother?”

“No mate, it was your grandfather who taught me…”

“Euw!”

“He was a good sort you grandpop,” said Daniel.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Oh Jesus, mate. I was banging one of the apprentices there for a while.”

“Mixing work and pleasure, hasn’t that bought you down once before?” Handsome Daniel, black hair, piecing blue eyes and a smile that charms everyone who is witness to it.

“You should see this kid in a pair of overalls, men have fallen to their knees and cried for much less.”

“So, good looking.”

“Like how.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

“Well, it was going great guns until his mother arrived in my office one morning and told me to keep my dick out of her son.”

“Ha ha, only you Daniel.”

“What 19 year old guy sends his mother down to sort out his.” Daniel laughed. “I was going to say love life, but what I was doing to him didn’t really involve much love.”

“And so…”

“Oh, the mother is a full on religious nut job, and Carl squibbed it and told her god knows what…”

“Literally.”

“She’s some Pentecostal Assemblies of Jesus Fucking Christ our Saviour Missionaries of the Holly Sea, bullshit, she started praying over me until I got security to remove her.

“So, you were done with the apprentice?”

“Yeah, I might be a sucker for a pretty face, but I’m not up for a spineless dick who sicks his Wack job mother onto me rather than face up to who he is.”

“So, has it been difficult at work?”

“That’s another thing, its totally against work policy, thou shall not dick your juniors, so best it ended.”

“And Carl?”

“Oh, he’s sniffed around a couple of times, but we’ve had a chat and we’re good.”

“You always were teflon Daniel.”

“And how are you?”

“I’m good.”

“And the beautiful Matt.”

“Yeah, he’s good too.”

“Congratulate me, Josho, I’m going to be a father.”

“What!”

“Yeah, me, a dad, what do you reckon?”

“I reckon you’re… what?”

“I’ve got a couple of lesbian mates Maryanne and Janet and they wanted to have a kid, and they asked me.”

“Jesus, handsome Daniel, no one would be surprised about that.”

“I know.”

I laughed. “You know.”

“No! I’m just pleased about it, being asked and all.”

“So, when is the big day?”

“Oh, 6 months.”

“6 months, hey,” I said. “So did you have to do it into a cup?”

“Yeah, sure to start with, but that didn’t work. We tried a few times, but no luck.”

“And?”

“Well, Maryann and I decided just to do it the old fashioned way in the end.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know, how about that?”

“And, how did that go?”

“Well, Maryanne and I were at her place one Saturday night, and she’d got another not pregnant test. It was just me and her. Janet was away…”

“The girlfriend?”

“Yes, they don’t live together full time. Janet trains sheep dogs…”

“But, of course.”

“She’s some champion Border Collier sheep trial expert, or something.”

I laughed.

“And Maryanne was disappointed, but she was still in her ovulation cycle, so she wanted to go again, and we were looking around for a cup, or something, when Maryanne said there was probably a simpler way.”

“A simpler way?”

“And we did it right there on her bed. First dick for her.”

“And how did she take to it?”

“Well, there’s the thing, Josho, she liked it.”

“She liked it?”

“Yep, she’s been back for more.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it gets her off.”

“WHAT?

“I know, I’m converting dykes now.”

“And what does her girlfriend think about it?”

“Ah, well, she’s okay with it, as long as it doesn’t encroach on her time with Maryanne, and all that.”

“Jesus, Daniel, who’d have thought?”

“And Maryanne is the fem one. You’d think I’d go for the blokey one, but no. There is something hot about…” He laughed.

“Hot about?”

“Erm… well… making a chick cum with my dick. Who’d have thought?”

“Who’d have thought?”

“So, anyway, I’ll be expecting booties when the time comes, but what can I do for you today?”

“It’s my old Mercedes…”

“Yeah, speaking of grandmas…”

“Well, the engine has gone on it.”

“Jesus, how long have you had that car?”

“Yeah, years, I was thinking that myself.”

“And you want it fixed?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, I guess? Josho you are going to have to be way more committed than that considering how much it is going to cost you?”

“So… expensive?”

Daniel whistled into the phone. “Just buy yourself a new car.”

“Oh, I already have another car, but this one has sentimental value.”

“What’s the new car?”

“A Saab 9-3.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ve just got it.”

“Is the Mercedes still in as good condition as it was?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s probably worth fixing. Bring it down.”

“You’ll do it?”

“I’ll give it a look.”

“Okay, cool, thanks Daniel. When?”

“Well, if you have another car, just drop the Merc down any time.”

“Okay then.”

“Today, or after the 15th Jan.”

“You’ll be back then.”

“Yeah.”

“You going away?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a surfer dude I’m really looking forward to pegging down Wye, you and Matt should come down.”

“What, to help you peg the surfer dude.”

“No, I won’t need any help in that department. Come down to the beach, the weather is meant to be good.”

“Okay, I’ll see.”

“Good, I hope you do.”

“About the car?”

“Yes.”

“I might bring it over now, is that good for you?”

“Yeah, sure, bring it over, it will be nice to see both of you.”

“Okay then. See you soon.”

Daniel came sauntering out like a super model, his overalls folded down to his waste, showing him wearing a tight t-shirt.

“Howdy.”

“Look at you Mr Super model, no wonder the apprentices can’t keep their hands off you.”

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t one of my better decisions.”

“In a life time of questionable decisions.”

“What are you talking about, you are looking pretty fucken fine yourself.”

“Listen to us, our mutual admiration society.”

“What is that from?”

“Um, er The Italian Job.”

“Yes, The Italian Job,” said Daniel. “We never di race Cooper S’s across Europe, now did we?”

“It would still be lots of fun.”

“Jesus, I wish I had the time.”

“So, is the workshop keeping you busy.”

“Flat out mate, flat out.”

“But is it paying the bills?”

“Oh yeah, more than paying the bills.”

“Doing well?”

“Yep, doing well,” said Daniel. “You know that is when I don’t get stuck with old junkers that I am supposed to fic for mate’s rates.”

“So, mate’s rates for the old Merc?”

“Oh course, babe.” Daniel wrapped his arm around my neck and kissed my head. “Of course, its mate’s rates for you.”

“You’re a luv.”

“Now, let’s take a look at this old shit box.”

“You don’t have to do it now, it’s no longer an emergency.”

“Yeah, well, let’s have a lookie none the less. She still looks good, you are looking after her.”

“I have a garage, and I get her waxed once a year, but that’s all I do.”

“You see, it doesn’t really take much.”

“I guess.”

“Start her up. and open the bonnet.”

I start my old Merc up, it sounded rough. Daniel poked around under the bonnet. He reved her and reved her. 

“Okay. Shut her off.”

“What do you reckon doc, is there any hope?”

“Well first of all, Mr James, you’ll need to remove all your clothes.”

“Okay… doctor,” I said breathlessly.

“Little Shop of Horrors,” Daniel said.

We both laughed.

“So, what do you reckon?”

“Nyr.”

“That bad?”

“I’m guessing, if I know you at all, that you want matching numbers?”

“Preferable.”

“Well, it would probably easier just to get another engine, but be that as it may, I’ll strip her down in the new year…”

“Please doctor, can you warm your hands up first.”

“Don’t worry miss, the way I’m going to touch you it won’t matter.”

“Oh doctor, you take my breath away.”

“Do you remember that time we drove up from Wye in this and we were so stoned and laughing so much that we had to pull over…”

“One of the finniest days of my life.”

“It’s good to see you Josho.” Daniel rapped his arms around me. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, you old cunt.” 

Daniel and I kissed. More like friends than lovers, but more than like friends. We have history going back.

“I need to see more of you,” said Daniel.

“Yeah, I know, life gets in the way.”

“Doesn’t it.”

“Anyway, I’ll strip the engine down and assess what the damage is.”

“Sure, let me know.”

“You want a car to drive?”

“No, I’ve got another one.’

“Oh yes, Saab 9-3.”

“Yes. The cool Swede.”

“You’ll be bringing that to me soon, I guess.”

“Well, let’s get one done at a time. I know you have a soft spot for this one.”

Daniel rapped his arm around my neck “I have a soft spot for you.”

“Daniel.”

“You and me Josho, it could still be good?”

“Have you been taking drugs this morning?”

Daniel laughed. “We had fun, Josho.”

“We did, Daniel.”

“I never see enough of you.”

“I never see enough of you.”

“The three of us we should get together.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve always wanted to get to know Matt, better.”

“Really?”

“Ha ha.” Daniel slapped me on the chest. “It’s good to dream, Josho. Never stop dreaming, that’s what I say.”

“You and me were good together.”

“Ah, yes, so many years ago now, hey. Anyway, good to see you. Leave the car with me, I’ll get onto it in the next month, or so. Is that good for you?”

“That’s great for me.”

“I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Great.”

“Come to Wye River over Xmas.”

“I’ll try.”

“Bring Matt.” 

“Will do.”

“We can smoke some pot and play Uno.”

“The famous Uno battles of old, hey?”

“I can tell Matt stories about you, Josho.”

“Now you are making me nervous.”

“Oh, just the good stories.”

“That’s what I want to hear.”

“Nothing about your questionable choices.”

“He probably knows them already.”

“Nothing about your spectacular fails.”

“He probably knows less about them.”

“Ha ha, I won’t give away any of your secrets.”

I laughed and gave Daniel a hug.

Saab 9-3

Mum and dad heard the 280E start up, at Xmas and dad saw the black smoke belching out of the 280E's exhaust. (How much is a Mercedes engine rebuild?)

Apparently, a day later mum said to dad that considering she'd given me the 280E all those years ago, it was maybe time she got herself a new car and gave me her 2 year old Saab 9-3.

In between times, the last few of her cars have gone to my siblings, so she thought it was my turn.

So, yesterday, mum took delivery of her new car and her Saab 9-3 now sits in my driveway, or at least, it would if I had a driveway. 

It is out in the street behind Fiona, as though it is sniffing Fiona's arse. I feel kind of sad, when I should feel happy. I don't think I am ready to give up the 280E just yet.

Fiona

A gay friend, my lovely friend Keith, who has no idea about cars, which will become quite apparent, got into Fiona and I was about to drive him somewhere when looking incredulous, holding his hands up like everything inside the car was just too precious to touch.

He said in a new age/wondrous tone. “This is like an old Mercedes.”

I looked at him blankly and said, “It is.”

He looked wide-eyed like he didn’t understand me. He tilted his head and his eyes begged me for an explanation.

“This is like an old Mercedes… because it is.”

“What?” said Keith.

“It is an old Mercedes.”

"Oh." Keith's face broke into a smile.

It was funny.

We both laughed.

We had the same sense of humour, Keith and I.

280E Mercedes

Fiona is gold, but you get the picture, I'm sure.

280E

It looks like I'm just about up for a new car. The 280E is beginning to blow smoke and, I reckon, she's lost a bit of power.

Not the 280E... or Fiona, as Matt called her, because of her metallic gold paint work and white lambs-wool interior. Matt said she was a girl's car; she looked like a middle-aged Brighton woman, bravely hanging onto her youth with too much jewellery and too much fake tan.

Matt, said I got away with it because of my dark, wavy hair. Whatever that meant? Something about me loving the beach. Ex-non-surfie, to be truthful. Hardly, I never tried surfing. I just liked the flat, tranquil beach, early in the morning, watching for the waves. It used to clear my head, sort of put stuff in perspective. It was the one place I used to let go of all my fear. I've just got the hair, had the hair, that's what Mat meant.

My mates have often said the car is a girl's car. 

“Looks like a fucking powder-puff,” said one of my mates.

Mum was just trading it in on a new model and wasn't going to get much for it, relatively, you know what trade-ins are like, when my brother wrote off my car and they felt sorry for me being at uni with not much money. Of course, on the face of it, an aging Mercedes for a uni student wasn't, perhaps, the best choice.

But having said that, the 280E has never broken down, or let me down, for that matter. She's been a classy old bird all the years I've had her, despite what everyone around me has said at various times. Believe it or not, people, boys have been impressed by that car, over the years. It always kind of amused me, since I've always just got stick about her from everyone else, my secret weapon.

I've blown too many joints to remember, smoked crystal meth before weddings and popped pills up city alley ways at night, in that car. I've had sex, on a few occasions, in the front seat, and the back seat.

Sad to think of her gasping her last breath.

Matt just laughed when I suggested I could get a purple Monaro, at one of those moments when he was dishing Fiona. I saw one driving down the Calder, it looked slick. Matt said the idea was too laughable. I didn't expect him to react that way. I'm not sure what he meant, exactly? Something about changing my name to Spiro. Then he was talking about his ex-boyfriend's cock, some Italian mechanic named Tony who, apparently, had a salami as big as his wrist.

When I told him I meant mid-night purple, nearly black, he laughed more.

“Beaudy!” he said. Thumbs up.

Out Of My Head

I rode my bike around the Yarra. Swift. Sleek. Skimming the corners. Flying. It's the thing that keeps me sane. Wind in my hair, the burning in my calves.

Cool wind on my face and on my chest.

Faster than the wind. Just staying in front.

I ride for an hour. I try not to stop, except for little children and traffic lights just at the very end.

That last hill is a killer. I try to take it in one stride.

I love that feeling at the end, once I've dismounted onto my unsteady feet. Gasping for breath. But in a healthy, cleaned out the arteries, kind of way.

I went out drinking with Sebastian and Cam. Jessie was there. We just kind of came face to face, just like that. Noisy bar, could hardly hear each other speak.

"How are you? How are you?" we said at exactly the same time.

"You look good. You look good." Awkward freeze. 

"Nice to see you, Jake. But, I've got to go. I'm meeting someone." She smiled. She looked confident, beautiful.

"Me too," I said. I hadn't seen her for how long? Not out. Not dressed up. All our wayward nights at uni, together, flashed through my head, seeing her standing there looking gorgeous. She was the last person I had expected to see. If I said it was shocking, I’d be overstating it, but it wasn’t far off.

She did look good.

Then she was gone.

Then I couldn’t get her out of my head. Sebastian and Cam bought me drinks and told me stories and generally chatted away, you know, to try and take my mind off her. Well, I think that is why they were talking away non-stop? Maybe it was the beer? But, I couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying, not really. It had been a surprise. I kept looking around, thinking I saw her in the crowd. I kept wondering who was she meeting.

I gave it my best shot after that, you know, having a good time, you know, like you do. But, it was no good, my mind kept wandering, I just wasn’t into it after that. The night. Drinking with friends. I wanted to see who she was meeting if it was a girlfriend. I didn’t want to see her with another guy. No, I wanted to see that. No, I didn’t.

I just couldn’t relax.

I made excuses and said I had to go. Sebastian and Cam tried to talk me into staying, but it wasn’t any good. I know it should have been. You know, being out like an adult. But no, I had to go, head home, dive under the blue blanket and let it go.

I went riding to get her out of my head. The next day, when she was the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes to the day. I just had to get away.

Do you think you can ride away from your, well, not exactly, troubles, but whatever is on your mind? Problems. Heartache. Troubles. I think you can. You know, keep peddling, and don’t stop, until all of your focus is on your burning legs, and your heavy breathing, and your mind just resets itself naturally.

Focus. Look ahead. And what is ever in your head floats away. Gone. Vanquished. And it’s good for you. For me. The sky over head was blue. I push, push, pushed until it was only the bike path that was in front of me that was in my head.

And then my mind was clear, and it was just fresh air, and the road ahead.

And then all that other stuff is bled, you know cleared away, you know where it was, the space left was free and tranquil and clear, yes clear, I wanted clear, and all that other stuff, all that other stuff, what was that other stuff? The wind in the hair, the sun on my face, feeling a sense of accomplishment pulsing in my muscles as I sped along the bike path as fast as I could and everything that was wrong was then right, and even if I do say so, was now a delight. 

What was I thinking last night? Really, what was that? The shadow of something I used to know. How easily it makes itself important like I want that. I don't want that. It is just something I used to know. A habit of which I'd unburdened myself, of which, from time to time, the muscle memory quivers and makes itself known.

Funny the things you think some time?