flashy. I set it up for two, and told him the address. He made me nervous when he said he lived close.
Michael and I agreed that four prospects was enough. I checked myself in the full length mirror in Kate’s room to make sure I looked like an upstanding young citizen. “Listen,” Michael said as we skated up the hill, “if someone’s ready to buy, just take whatever they offer. I mean, you have to act like it matters to you, but we both know it’s all profit. It’d be much better to make a quick six hundred each than to hold out for more money and extend our risk another day.”
“You don’t have to tell me man, I don’t want to do this any longer than I have to.” I said.
“Cool. See, you have a professional attitude. I like that. I couldn’t pull off something like this with Jeremy, he’d be gettin’ all into it with the buyers and haggling over a hundred dollars or some shit. A bird in the hand is worth two bitches you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” I said.
Michael’s uncle was named Herbert Weller. He lived in a small one story house with a palm tree in the yard. The lawn was mostly crab grass and the paint on the front porch was peeling, but all in all it looked like a nice place. The car was sitting in the driveway next to the house, its white body shining in the sun. I didn’t see so much as a scratch on it. Michael tipped a potted plant on the front porch and revealed a key underneath. We opened the front door and stepped over a pile of mail into the living room. “Don’t touch anything.” Michael said. “I don’t want him to know anyone was in here.”
I followed him into the bedroom where he opened a drawer in his uncle’s desk. He dug around in the files for a minute and came out with a manila folder. “Here.” He said, opening the folder. “The car is legally ours now, we have the pink-slip.”
I looked at the document. “So, I just sign Herbert Weller and date it, and they sign their name and the car’s sold?” I asked.
“No, Herbert already signed it, I think just the buyer has to sign. See there’s a place for signatures to go right down here.” He said pointing to the bottom of the paper.
“Oh, right. But look at this, it says it has to be witnessed by a notary public. That’s gonna fuck us up right there.” I said.
“Nah, nobody actually pays a notary public on a person-to-person car sale. Don’t worry about it. Besides anyone can become a notary public, tell them you’re a notary public and sign the damn thing Herb.” He said.
“Ah fuck, that’s shady. We could run into some serious trouble right there. I’m telling you now, if I even suspect for a second that someone’s calling the cops I’m gonna bail.” I said.
“I hope so. I’ll be right behind you. Listen, it’s past noon. Don’t worry about it. Once they’ve decided to buy the car they’re not going to let that stop them, believe me. I mean, it’s just a bunch of bureaucratic red tape bullshit, people don’t care about that.”
“All right. Where’s the keys? Our first customer is due any minute.” I said. We went to the kitchen and he took them off a peg beside the fridge. I connected the key ring to my house keys which Michael thought was a brilliant touch. He told me he’d be in the house in case there was an emergency or I needed something. A car pulled up at around twelve twenty with two women in it. They sat looking at a sheet of paper, unsure if they had the right place. “Here we go. No turning back now.” I said to Michael. He went to the kitchen and I stepped onto the front porch.
Both women looked up at me for a moment before they got out of the car. The driver looked like she was in her late forties and had dyed blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail except for a tuft of bangs that sprouted from her forehead. She wore a cream colored silk top and black leggings with sandals. She was a plump woman and if she wore any makeup I couldn’t tell. The other one was in jeans and sneakers with a Culture Club T-shirt. She had brown hair and looked about nineteen or twenty. I immediately knew they were mother and daughter. “Hi,” I said in my most friendly voice, “you here to see the car?”
“That’s right. We had a hard time finding the place, you didn’t tell me it was practically in the foothills.” The mother said.
“Oh. Sorry about that. You know I forgot to ask you your name when we spoke on the phone. I’m Herb by the way.”
“I’m Rebecca and this is my daughter Sam.” The woman said. There was an awkward pause. “You’re very young to be selling a car all by yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been well coached. My dad always wants me to do things like this by myself. I bought the car myself too, when I was sixteen. I could’ve used his help on that one, but he’s big on teaching me independence,” I said, “so here I am.”
“Hmm. Well, let’s have a look at the car.” She said. As they walked across the lawn to the Chevy, the young one, Sam, gave an excited look to her mother.
“It has lots of space in the back. We could fit most of my stuff in here for the move.” She said.
“Hold your horses, Sam.” The woman said before turning her attention toward me. “We’d like to look under the hood.”
“Oh, alright.” I said. I pulled the keys from my pocket, opened the driver’s side door and stuck my head in. Lights, turn signal, radio, trunk-opener, windshield wiper, but no hood. They stood at the front of the car watching me expectantly. “Sorry, I dropped my keys under the seat here.” I said, stalling for time. While I pretended to be looking for the keys I noticed there was a lever to pop the hood down on the floor. I pulled it and heard the hood unlock. The woman opened and propped it up.
“When was the last time you changed this air filter?” She asked as I walked around to the front of the car.
“Um, to be honest, I don’t really know,” I answered, “I took it in for a tune up a couple of months ago, and they might’ve changed it then, but I’m not sure.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s ever been changed.” She said, fingering a particularly filthy part of the engine.
“Well, that could be.” I said. “I really don’t know much about cars. I put gas in it and get the oil changed every two thousand miles but that’s about it.” I saw a faint smile flicker across her lips.
“Would you start the engine please?” She asked. I walked back and put the key in the ignition. As I turned it I was worried for a second that it wouldn’t start, but it did. It sounded good too. I got out and walked back around. She seemed to be listening to the engine carefully. Sam looked bored. “Well,” she said, “it sounds like it’s in good condition, can we take it for a test drive?”
“Yes, of course. Be my guest.” I said. She shut the hood and walked over to the driver’s side. Sam stood by the other door, but I told her she should ride up front and I’d ride in the back. Once we were in, the mother slid the seat forward and made some adjustments to the mirrors. They both put their seatbelts on, and she backed out of the driveway slowly. She crept down the street and made a right on Lake. It was obvious that Sam was excited about the car.
“Very sensitive gas pedal.” The mother commented, as we picked up speed going down the hill. “It’s comfortable to drive Sam, I think you’ll like it better than the last one we looked at.”
“I love this car.” I said. “I hate to have to sell it, but it doesn’t make sense to bring it with me to New York.”
“Oh, are you going to school there?” The woman asked.
“Yeah, NYU. They have a strong film department.” I have no idea where that one came from, I think I’d heard someone say that once.
“Oh, did you hear that Sam? We could be buying a car from the next Francis Ford Coppola.”
“What can I say? I love movies.”
She began testing every lever and button in the car as we made our way down the busy street. When she switched on the radio it was tuned to a sappy Christian station. I wondered if that would raise suspicion. I was now a film student who listened to gospel music. When the woman was satisfied that everything worked, she asked Sam if she was ready to try it out and Sam gave an enthusiastic yes. She pu
lled over in front of the Dairy Dee and they switched places. Sam made a big deal about adjusting her seat and the mirrors. “How should I take us back?” She asked me.
“Go to that light down there and turn right. Two blocks after that is El Molino which will take you right up to my street.” I said.
She sped up quickly on El Molino. “Careful Sam!” Her mother scolded “It’s not your car yet.” I liked the sound of yet. We made it back up to Altadena Drive and she turned in to Hebert’s driveway.
“So, whatd’ya think?” I asked.
“I like it.” She said. “It’s the best one we’ve looked at.”
“Well, I’m ready to sell it today, if you’re ready to buy.” I said. We sat in the car while the mother seemed to be doing arithmetic in her head.
“Well, we’ll need a new air filter, and of course we’ll have to have the brakes checked out… I guess we could offer you sixteen hundred for the car.” She said.
“Wow. Um, that’s very low… The blue book value of this car is twenty three hundred. I was thinking that two thousand was as low as I wanted to go.” I said.
“You know, hardly anyone ever gets blue book value.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I was asking so much less. I want to sell the thing.” I said. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to do better than sixteen.”
“Well, two thousand is more than we can afford.” The woman