One More Time
ONE MORE TIME
A Short Story in the Slice of Life Series
David Lee Howells
Copyright 2013
Sam
“Sam Carney, a name to do business with,” read cards that people still carried in wallets and purses, though the man had retired from new and used car sales two years ago. Madison Motors on Verona Road, just off the West Beltline Highway in Madison, Wisconsin. Just shy of fifty years in the business of keeping America moving had earned him the trust of over three thousand customers. Eighty percent of those had eventually joined the ranks of trusting repeat customers. He had facilitated many ‘coming of age’ transitions as teenagers evolved into ‘away at collegers’. There had been many who started small and upgraded both business credentials and the sticker price on their transportation.
“Your car says who you are,” was one famous Carney quote. “Caesar never drove a beater chariot,” was another. Throw in, “You can’t be a cruiser with a loser,” and you were on your way to knowing the business mindset of Sam Carney.
Sam really did care about those who had placed trust in him for five decades. If the repair shop even looked like taking advantage of one of his lady customers, you could count on him nosing under the hood personally. Any time a new manager of the repair and maintenance department made the scene, Sam Carney read him the preemptive riot act.
People still swung by or called for four-wheeled advice to the point where Sam Carney was now an advice resource and conduit to any auto purveyor. Sam was a free agent who kept his hand in the business mainly because he’d be horribly bored otherwise. When one of ‘Sam’s people’ took a vehicle for a test drive, his house was where they drove to so that the Old Man could take a gander and offer sage wisdom. The understanding for any salesperson was that a deal clincher or a referral from Sam was good for one favor. Sam kept track in a little notebook he kept handy, just in case a salesperson got forgetful about who buttered their bread. Not that Sam would ever lead a customer wrong. Sales people had to EARN Sam’s good graces.
He lived alone now in the same house he called home for over twenty-five years. He and Gracie downsized after his two sons left home. One went to the military and the other worked on those black magic boxes called computers out in sunny California. He’d been thinking about moving out there, now that Gracie was gone these past five years. But here he knew his neighbors and here his extended family of automotive dependents appreciated him. Here, he was useful. Anywhere else, he’d just be another retiree looking for new friends among aged strangers who would never live long enough to be old friends. So, despite Wisconsin winters and their habit of avalanche-quality snowfalls, here Sam Carney would live out his life.
Elsie
Sam’s long-time next door neighbor, Elsie Partlow, had been the sole proprietor of the Silver Screen Salon ever since her husband and partner, Raul, succumbed to a heart that wasn’t up to the task of living anymore. He was Ralph when they first met in hair styling school, now called a cosmetology college. To keep things honest and to double his likelihood of success, Ralph changed his name to Raul before setting up shop in Madison, Wisconsin. It was an upbeat and cheery place of business on Manitou Way, just off of the Seminole Highway. Raul was the panache; Elsie was the micromanager that kept accountants from charging more than the minimum. By the time Raul was explaining the Ralph/Raul name confusion to St. Peter’s accounting system, Silver Screen had a well-established clientele. The atmosphere inside was one that would have felt comfy to anyone whose youth had blossomed from the twenties to the fifties. Any wall space not dedicated to a mirror or state-mandated document had an image of most of the heart throbs from those eras. Here were touchstones to youth and wonder for hearts watched over by cardiologists. The male population was well represented here as well, though that section featured more of the timeless sports legends in boxing, baseball, golf, auto racing and football. In both sections, image therapy was coupled with TLC for thinning pates. Stylists and barbers alike were required to either be knowledgeable regarding every image on their respective walls, or to get there tout suite. Lord help the employee who thought any recent video heart throb even came close to Carey Grant.
Elsie stopped in regularly to keep an eye on things, though her manager, Barbara, was another set of eagle eyes on site. Barbara and Elsie were talking purchase options over the past few months.