20 G's

I acquired $20,000 last month, can you believe it?. I got it the old fashion way - I won a contest. No no, not the cake walk thing. I mean yeah, I won too but that was back in November before Thanksgiving at that school festival uptown. I won a pie. I had to do a quick bit of pondering as to whether to accept it or not. I had a vision of a nice bundt cake or German chocolate but instead had a pie foisted on me. It was pecan which is my favorite so I didn’t make waves. This time. Next year I’m gonna get the ground rules before standing on the circle.

No, my windfall came from a writing contest for gosh sakes. Wouldn’t Mrs. Morgan be surprised! My 9th grade english teacher. Mrs. Morgan, she didn’t think I’d be able to fill out a job application much less write coherent sentences. Not sayin’ that what I wrote was coherent but...20 G’s….

I’d never had $20,000 before. I mean I’ve MADE $20,000 but not all at once. I cashed the check and put the money in a mason jar and set it in the mantle . I’m told you don’t wanna rush into a big purchase you’ll later regret so I studied on it for a week or so and made up my mind. “I’m gonna get it”.

My Uncle Kenneth was way cool. He had a chopper. A 1973 Harley Shovelhead with a royal purple gas tank and a two person banana seat with the chrome sissy bar in back. He’d got his custom from JT Chop Shop there in Richmond. I was only ten but knew she was something special and man was I on top of the world when I got strapped on the back and he popped a wheelie and we were off like a shot. Spurred by the memory I began looking for a JT original and to my amazement found one on Craigslist in St. Pete for $17,500. Way over priced but I had my jar of cash and I was off.

The wife and I headed south to Golden Acres just east of I-275 and a bit south of Lakewood Terrace. If Golden Acres sounds familiar it’s because it was in the news last year when a sinkhole opened up and swallowed two Red Maples, VW Microbus and a doberman. It wasn’t clear if the doberman was chained to the tree or VW but the result was the same so maybe it doesn’t matter.

We pulled in only to realize the ‘Golden” in Golden Acres was a reference to the gray haired set in their latter years and not the color of the sky. Canes, walkers and Roust-a-bouts filled the right of ways and everywhere, little yappy dogs on leashes. This, was what greeted us as we pulled into Mrs. Waldheim's driveway and exited the car.

“Mrs. Waldheim we’re here about the chopper” I called out in my old people can’t hear voice.

“You know, The Harley?”

“Gertrude! Gertrude!” she called out to the agitated and barking dog. She had a German accent so it sounded like ‘Guartrute Guartrute’ to me but who could tell over the barking. She made a chopping motion and the dog turned off, tail between its leg. I say ‘leg’ as she only had one. In the back I mean. The two front struts seemed intact. My wife and I looked at each other and shrugged.

“Ya ya please, come sit” she said after the commotion subsided. “Shez a very goot dog you know really. Just a bit skittish around strangers I sink. Please come sit” she said, pointing to a set of old black wrought iron chairs around a rusting table, a pitcher of lemonade in the center. Gertrude was leashed to one so we took the others and Mrs. Waldheim (“Please, call me Zenia '') took the last. Small in stature with gray hair that seemed crooked somehow but a pleasant smile.

”So! You vont to see Karls motorbike?”

“I’m sorry, Karl?”

“Ya, sorry. Karl vas my husband. He’s gone now, cancer, but he vas such a goot man. And he really loffed dat motorbike! Maybe more dan me!” she said with a chuckle

“Oh” we said in unison. “We’re so sorry for your loss.

“Ya. 2 years zis coming May but it seems like yesterday” she lamented.

We chatted a bit more, drank some lemonade and got down to it. “Zo, lets let you have a look at ze motorbike”. We rose, Gertrude growled, got the same chopping motion and fell into silence. We looked at each other and shrugged again. “Vait von minute” she said as she made her way inside the modular home, reappearing with a little black book. “Zis vas Karls vecord book on all ze tings he ever did to zer bike” and extended it to me. Leather bound and aged I opened it to see page after page of upkeep and repairs. I assumed. It vas, sorry, WAS, in German. “Impressive" I murmured, as if I could read German.

“So, may we see it?”

“Oh! Goodness! She said with a chuckle. Vell zats what you came for ain’t it?”

Ain’t? My wife and I looked at each other. “Uuuh, yep sure” I said. She led us to the garage.

Wow! It was immaculate, like it’d just rolled out of JT's shop on the first day. I took a seat and the way back machine came to life and suddenly I was 10 again roaring down the highway with a death grip around Uncle Kenneth's waist, a huge smile plastered on my face. I inserted the key and VAROOM VAROOM the motor purred when I turned it. My heart pounded. She motioned me to back it out and take it for a spin. I tooled around the neighborhood a bit and then to the highway and opened her up. Heaven. Pulling back into the drive I hopped off with a smile and said “I’ll take it!”

I didn’t have the heart to negotiate a better price and gave her the full seventeen five. She seemed surprised at the mason jar but asked no question and off we went as I waved goodbye. The wife took the interstate back but it was the back roads for me, George Thorogood’s Bad to the Bone playing in my head as I watched the world go by through my blue tinted sunglasses.

Up highway 19 outside Cross City I stopped at Chucks, a bike shop of some repute to show my prize to the man himself. He whistled and beamed his 1000 watt smile and ooo-ed and aaah-ed in all the right places. “Man you got a beaut” he said. “Those things are pretty rare, especially the reps. Those things were junk.”

“Reps?” I said. “Whadaya mean reps? What’s that?”

“You know, reps. Replicas. What, ya didn’t know?”

“No no. It’s the real deal alright. I checked. Look here, right under the headlamp. The connecting plate, It’s got JT’s stamp on it. Right there. See what I mean?”

Chuck looked and rubbed his chin and got a worried look. “Come take a look” he says with a sigh. “That doesn’t say JT. It’s JI. You can see if you look close at some of the file marks. No, It’s def a JI doctored up to be JT. Back in the day Kawasaki made some Harley reps and shipped ‘em over and tried to pawn ‘em off as a Harley wannabe but really they were for crap. They looked nice and all but really they weren’t much of a bike in the end. Which is why I was amazed at yours. It looks pristine. What’d you pay for her, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

Broken, I said “Seventeen five”

“Yeah, yeah, I’d say that's about right. It’s in great shape. Most I’ve seen were selling for about a grand but upwards of $2000 isn’t unheard of.”

“ Not $1705 I murmured. $17,500…”

Chucks laughter was still playing in my head as I roared back south to Golden Acres to get my money back. A fake. How could I have been taken in like this? Maybe I wasn’t. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe ol’ Karl had been shining her on. It’s a big misunderstanding. That’s got to be it. It’s just gotta be.

I rolled in and hopped off and approached the patio. Gertrude started up then got that same chopping motion and Zenia stood up. At least I think it was Zenia. Gone was the wig and nice smile and German affectation. Instead I got “Whadda yooou wont…” she said in a redneck drawl, unfiltered menthol cigarette bobbing in her lips. I notice my jar of money on the table next to a can of Schlitz malt liquor.

“Um, uuh...Zenia..I uuh..well the thing of it is...we have a bit of an issue here.”

“Only issue I see is yer stanin’ on my poperdy, trespassin’.”

“Yes well, look, I think you sold me something and weren’t completely straightforward…”

“What I sold you what I sold ya and t'was just what you wanted, fair n square an so now I suggest ya git off my property afor I have ta call the pOlice.”

“Well look now, hold on. Maybe we can come…”

“I tol you git” she growled and fished a snub nosed 38 out of her purse and let off a shot.

“Mrs Walheim!” I exclaimed as I dove for cover. “What are you doing? Let’s be reasonable…” Blam. Blam blam. I got to my feet and ran around the side of the house and thru the gate, Zenia in pursuit . She fast for an old lady but I got around the house just as a shot pinged off the guttering. Blam blam. This is insane I thought. As I rounded the corner to the front I saw the mason jar and ran to scoop it up. Gertrude by this time was a ravenous barking mess and doing her best to get at me. I tried the chopping thing to no avail so I reached in and just grabbed. Gertrude got ahold of a pants leg but I managed to shake her off and darted left, jar in hand. Thing of it is, I’d bought one of those biker wallets, you know, the ones with the chain attached, and had it in my back pocket. On my pivot the chain got hooked on the patio chair. The same patio chair Gertrude was tied to turns out and we both spun and wiggled and jiggled to get undone. Blam. “Gimmie back that money can let go of that dog” Blam blam. I made one final spin to dive behind the mailbox and that’s when Gertrude went sailing, still attached to the chair, out into the middle of the right of way where she was promptly run over by an older gentleman in a Roust-a-bout. By this time the whoop whoop of local law enforcement could be heard in the distance.

I still have that little black book. I am writing to you now from it in fact. I have plenty of time these days as I’ve got 60 days left of my 90 days here in the county lock up. Assault on a domestic animal of all things. Gertrude’s fine. She lost a front leg but she’s fine. She just needs to be propped up against something now. Pearl, ‘Zeniz’s’ REAL name is here too. Unlawful discharge of a firearm within the city limits. She got to keep the money tho. Judge ruled in her favor on that one. Unbelievable.

Well, that’s all for now. I’m content. I guess. After all that’s happened I just think the time to reflect will do me good. I could get out they said. Just post the bond. Uumm, maybe. I’ll think on it. The bond? Well, it was twenty thou...oh never mind….