The Quantum
By Dabeagle
Finale
“Wake up.”
“But it’s Saturday.”
“Yeah, and the parts counter closes at noon so we need to get going.”
“Parts counter?”
“Get up or I tip the bed again.”
“I’m up! I’m up!” I rolled off the mattress in time to catch the door closing as my grandfather left the room. I scratched and stretched before grabbing fresh clothes and heading for the shower. Fifteen minutes later I was in the kitchen being handed a travel cup of coffee and ushered to the waiting car.
“So why are we going to the parts counter?”
“Because we need parts?” My grandfather replied.
“Yes, but, on Saturday?”
“I didn’t have time during the week. Your car isn’t exactly at the top of the money-making list you know.”
“What does it need now?” I groaned. I’d never work off the debt for all the things this old car needed.
“It has special hoses that run from the water jacket to the transmission cooler. Bigger on one end than the other, can’t use regular hose. Dealer only, screw me till I scream pricing is the only way to get it.”
“That was...colorful.”
“It is what it is, can’t put lipstick on a pig, doesn’t fool anyone. Well, maybe if you’re from Texas.”
We rode in silence until we reached the Volkswagen dealer. I went on a mental shopping spree with all the new cars on the lot, silently lamenting that I would never be able to afford one.
“That’s kinda neat there.”
I turned my head to see what my grandfather had found. A small silver coupe sat in front of us, snow still on it in patches. My grandfather stopped the car and got out to get a better look. I decided to follow him.
“Hah! It’s a convertible!” Grandpa chuckled.
“Odd time to shop for one don’t you think?”
“Bet I can get a good deal! Ideal car for parking, is a convertible.”
I looked at him in confusion.
“This way, when their legs are up in the air, they don’t tear the cloth on the liner. Nope, they can go up and hit noting but air!” He grinned widely at me. I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Ah, I see you found the new Eos, nice lines on her, don’t you think?” The salesman had appeared from nowhere. He shivered in his sports-coat as my grandfather gave him the patented glare.
“Wasn’t exactly hidden.”
“Pardon?”
“You said we found it. It wasn’t hidden.”
“Oh, of course, sorry. Brain freeze!” The salesman chuckled.
“Happens in sales and politics,” Grandpa commented dryly.
“Yes, well…” The salesman stumbled, clearly thrown off track.
“Which way is parts?” I asked no one in particular.
“Well, you know, with the standard warranty for all new cars, you wouldn’t be putting any parts or repair money in to the Eos.” The salesman smiled at us, ignoring my question.
“Always a plus.” My grandfather mumbled.
Something wasn’t right. My grandfather turned and smiled at the salesman and I knew right then this fellow was in over his head.
“How about a cup of coffee and I can get some more information for you on this little number, eh?” The clueless salesman smiled.
“Why sure! The more information the better!” My grandfather smiled. Oh, there was no cheer in that smile though, it was feral.
I followed the salesman to his doom, trailing in my Grandfather’s wake. The salesman chattered inanely, oblivious to the storm clouds that were threatening him. We followed him to his desk, and he waved us to some uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk while he tapped a few keys on his computer.
“All right, just need some information so we can get this baby in your name.”
“Don’t wanna buy it. I don’t like car payments that go on for years and years.”
“Oh, I completely understand. Folks that have had cars paid for are very happy with them until they start to need things, nickel and dime stuff. I’m sure you understand that since you were here for parts. But if purchasing seems like a longer commitment than you need, how about a lease program then?”
“So I pay for it and have nothing to show for it in a few years?” My grandfather gave him the squint.
“Were you considering a cash purchase then? While flexible credit terms are something we prize, cash is always king.” The salesman shifted tacks.
“No. I just said it looked nice. Thought it might be good for parking.”
“I’m sure we can come to an agreeable price.” The salesman clearly felt this was starting to slip away from him.
“I don’t want to buy it. Who buys a convertible in winter?”
“I don’t understand. Why come in if you had no intention of purchasing.”
“I intend to purchase parts. Not the whole car.”
The salesman’s cheeks flushed red, his nose seemed to drain of blood as it wrinkled and he moved papers aimlessly on his desk. “Can’t you get your hands on any cash? I can make you a superior deal on that car.”
“I could, but I don’t want to.”
The salesman stared at my grandfather, disbelief on his face. He was clearly flustered and unsure how to proceed. I’m sure he felt that, given the fact the man was across the desk from him, he had to make a deal. Resolutely he reached out and turned a picture frame to face my grandfather, a small child started out from behind the protective glass, smiling into the camera.
“Cut me a break, I have a kid to feed.”
My Grandfather‘s brows knit together, a clear sign of his sudden anger. He regarded the picture and then stood, looking the salesman in the eye. “She’s ugly, let her starve.” He strode away quickly, and I scurried after him as he headed for the rear of the sales floor towards a silver sign that announced the parts department.
Once we were home, I had only a few more chances to figure out what to get Jake for Christmas. The painting was just too much; not that he wasn’t worth it, but I simply couldn’t come up with that kind of cash. I liked the shirts I had gotten him, but that was kind of a present for me too. I had the lame bracelet the girl at the mall had given me, but it just didn’t seem right to give someone I thought was so unique such an ordinary gift. At the very least, I needed to come up with one on my own.
We worked most of the day, my grandfather alternating between humming and swearing at my car. I mostly handed him tools, but other than that I was almost useless.
“Have you come up with something for Jake yet?” he asked.
“No, not really. I’m kind of stuck.”
“Gift cards, works every time.”
“Not very personable, Grandpa.”
“I said it worked, I didn’t say it was perfect. Why not some jewelry? Does he like jewelry?”
“I don’t think so, he doesn’t wear much of it that I can think of.”
“How about music?”
“No. He seems to like dumb movies.”
“No shortage there. Video games? Sports? Cars?”
“Yeah, he’s a motor-head, but I can’t afford to give him a car.”
“What does he drive?”
“His mom’s Golf, when he can get away with it.”
My grandfather ruminated on that as he slid back under the car. I started to pick up the tools and put them back as I pondered what to get Jake. I cleaned and replaced ratchets and sockets, wrenches both open and box, the air gun, and the ten pound hammer that was left out of place from some other job this week. I swept the place out and as I did so, I realized I simply couldn’t come up with a single thing that I thought was good enough to express what Jake meant to me. At least, nothing within my meager budget. How do you give someone your whole world in a box with ribbon?
I passed by a window and saw that snowflakes had started up, and were floating down fat and lazy. Already a blanket covered the ground and cars in the parking lot, with more working at making the landscape like a clean canvas waiting for a painter to bring life and color.
I wandered back to the car as my grandfather slid out from under the car and asked me to get five quarts of oil ready, as well as the bag with the spark plugs, wires, cap, and rotor. My grandfather met me at the grill, handing me a ratchet replete with a socket and extension.
“We’re down to the nuts and bolts here, so let’s finish this bitch off.”
“It’s almost done?”
“Yep. Now, follow the wires until you see where they end.”
I complied.
“That’s a boot, it covers the place where the contact makes electrical love to the end of the sparkplug. Now you want to grab the boot really low and twist it to break it free.”
I reached down and twisted the rubber boot so that it spun and then pulled it up, under my grandfather‘s watchful eye. The boot came free with a pop, revealing the ceramic top of the sparkplug, and its metal top.
“Ok, now put that extension and socket together and slip it over the top of the sparkplug. What’s important here is that the sparkplug socket has a rubber insert, so make sure you have it seated all the way down. Wiggle it a bit, making sure it’s all the way down. Good!”
I attached the ratchet and the spark plug squeaked and groaned its way out of the head.
“See, the idiot that changed the plugs last time didn’t oil them. Crack open one of the cans of oil and dip your finger in there, get a drop of oil and spread it over the new plug‘s threads.”
I carefully put a thin layer of oil on the new plug threads and then looked at him expectantly.
“Take the ratchet off the extension,; you never start a plug by ratchet, always by hand.”
“Why?”
“Because the plug threads are stronger than the head; the head is made of aluminum, a softer metal, so if you start it with a ratchet you can cross thread it. If you start it by hand, you can tell if it’s not starting correctly.”
I carefully set the plug into the socket, and then used it with the extension to hand start the plug. Once it was started I used the ratchet to tighten it down.
“Ok, so you know how to do that part. Now, use this screwdriver to pop the clips that hold down the cap.”
Two small chrome clips held the cap in place, and I used the screwdriver to wedge them away from the cap. The first popped audibly as it came free and the other slipped off with the tension of its twin being released. I lifted the cap up and my grandfather took it in his hands, tilting it and pointing as he spoke.
“The cap is like the switching station for a car; electrical current comes from the coil and powers the rotor here in the middle,” he pointed to the rotor sitting exposed. “See the metal contact is scored from current passing through it,” he pointed now to the cap, “to each of these contact points. Notice how each contact point in the cap is scored, and the black dust coating the inside of the cap? That means it’s worn out.
“Now, you pull the old rotor off and replace it with the new one. After that, get the cap positioned over it, and lock it down. Once you do that, you need to replace each wire one at a time so you don’t get them mixed up. It won’t run if you get them mixed up.”
He observed me as I carried out his directions, replacing one wire at a time, twisting each end of the wire before I separated it from its previous home. I began to replace the spark plugs, all five of them, without breaking to look at my grandfather for guidance or reassurance. Once the last piece was in place, I looked up at him and saw something which may have been pride. It was only a few spark plugs, but I did do it.
“Next to last step. Let’s check the oil, make sure there is enough in the pan.” He guided me to the dip-stick and after we confirmed enough oil was present, he fished about in his pocket and handed me a key.
“Engine should warm up about ten minutes before you change the oil. Hook up a hose to the tailpipe and connect it to the door, then let’s see if it works.”
I quickly hooked up the pipe and stood in front of my grandfather, who smiled at me. “You’ve done a good job here, you and your friends. You know, especially this time of year, people look for things to give others to show them what they mean to them. Some people just give so they can say they did. But if you want to give someone something of real value, you give your time. You can’t return it, you can’t get a refund or exchange. It’s always theirs, a gift of a bit of your life.
“This car gave you a bridge to a friend or two, a boyfriend, and gave us time to get to know each other. That’s something you can’t put a price on.”
My chest felt as though helium had filled my chest, and a warm glow spread from my heart throughout my body. I took the key from my grandfather‘s outstretched hand, gave him a bright smile as he nodded to me. I slid in behind the wheel of my car, the door hanging open so I could share this feeling with my grandfather. I placed the key in the ignition, and the car responded with a cheery tune, not a crappy buzz or weak dinging, but a distinctive three note tune.
With a final glance at my grandfather I turned the key. The engine turned quickly, sputtered and purred into life. It was smooth, a steady hum that brought elation and pride in a job not only done, but done right.
“I’m taking a shower. Get a pan ready for the oil and grab that bag by the tool cabinet; it has the gasket, and filter.” I nodded at him as he left the room and I sat in my car as it idled. I gave it a touch of gas and the engine responded smoothly, the car rocking with a quiet power. This wasn’t the type of raw, balls to the wall power like Mabel. This was refined, responding to my touch with grace rather than a growl.
I thought in my car, on Christmas Eve, with snow coming down and my new pride and joy. I thought about my friends, my new family and Jake. I realized finally, an epiphany if you will, what I would give Jake.
My grandfather came out dressed in jeans and a button up shirt. I shut the car off and he had me jack it up, drain the oil and replace the washer on the plug in the oil pan, making sure to lube the threads. He then had me remove the filter and then lube the O-Ring on the new filter before screwing it in place by hand. Once the new oil was in, we started it back up and waited for the oil light to go out and to confirm there were no leaks.
“So the very last thing we do is add the plates.” My grandfather handed me a set of plates and a screwdriver. I eagerly went from the front to the back, adding my new plates. My grandfather disconnected the exhaust hose and opened the passenger door.
“Ok, let’s go to Yip’s, see how she handles.”
“He.”
“What? Cars, boats, always are feminine.”
“Not this one; it’s all male.” I smiled at him.
“All right then, let’s take him for a spin!”
He climbed into the passenger side and I sat behind the wheel. Seatbelts were locked, mirrors were adjusted, and the garage door was closed. Dammit. I jumped out and opened the door quickly and grabbed the remote from my grandfather‘s car. Reseated and buckled, I put the Quantum into first gear and eased him out of the garage, the car responding with casual ease. I pushed the button to close the garage door as we eased out into the snowy night, under the Quantum’s sure tread. While we were on our way to Yip’s officially, I had decided I needed to make a side trip. I wasn’t going to pick Jake up, this moment belonged to my grandfather and I, but I did need to see him if only for a moment.
I knocked on his front door moments later and opened the door.
“Fuck do you want?” Jake’s dad grunted.
“Your son,” I replied tartly as I passed him and headed to Jake’s room. He was sprawled out on his bed, watching Jackass. I think.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” Jake gave me a lazy smile and held his arms out to me.
I planted a kiss on his lips and then held him tightly, my mouth near his ear.
“I can’t stay, but I needed to see you for a minute.” I held him closely, feeling his chest solidly pressed to mine. The rise and fall of his breath relaxing me.
“Jake, I’ve been struggling with what to get you for Christmas. I found a couple of small things, but I’ve been really working to find something that tells you just what you mean to me, you know the ‘perfect gift’.”
“Kris…”
“Shhh. Just listen. I didn’t have the money to get what I thought would be best, but I finally realized that nothing material would do. Jake, I love you so much and for so many reasons and what I give you, I hope is enough. I give you my love, my heart, the world that I have isn’t possible without you. I’ve had so many good things happen to me, I have a strong place to build myself at home now but the rest is you.”
I pulled back and looked into his eyes, large and wet with emotion and I gently kissed him.
* * *
Snow fell, Yip’s gave my grandfather gas, and I finally realized that what was really important was to spend time with the ones I loved. What better way to show them you loved them back?
Epilogue
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