Center Courtship (2 page)

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Authors: Liza Brown

BOOK: Center Courtship
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I turned and guided him to a metal bin. “If the mechanic has smaller, unusable parts, they get put in here.” The bin was open on one side so the mechanics could just walk the pieces in and not have to hurl them over a high wall. When it was time for the scraps to be hauled away, a truck would come and lift the bin so everything stayed in the container.

Aaron's eyes got huge as if he'd just laid eyes on a pile of gold. “This is exactly what I'm looking for!” He stepped carefully to the edge of the container and bent down to pick up a mangled hubcap. “I'm sorry, can I?” he stopped and looked at me.

“Sure, take whatever you need, the mechanics usually have some shopping carts back here. I'm sure I can find an extra.”

“I'd love it!” Aaron turned to the pile of scraps like a kid at Christmas.

I walked away from him and over to the one bay where two of my mechanics were busily dismantling an 89 Honda Accord. “Steve, do you guys have any extra carts?”

Steve, my oldest mechanic, looked at me through his safety glasses. “There's one over there,” he pointed to the wall of tools behind him. He eyed Aaron who was still bent over the scrap bin. “What's with Peter Pan?”

“Shut up! His name is Aaron, he's an artist and he's very nice. I went to school with him at Stark State. He's looking for scrap car pieces to make sculptures. He's quite talented.”

“Not one part of that statement surprises me,” he smiled. “How much is he paying?”

“I'm not sure. I'll see what he takes. I told him he could look at the carcasses, too.”

“Whatever floats his loafers,” Steve said with a smile. I smacked him on the shoulder and walked away.

I grabbed the cart and rolled it over to Aaron who had amassed a mound of what I assumed was a ‘keep' pile. “Here you go, when you're done, bring it in and we can talk price,” I said.

“Oh, I am so excited! You have no idea what this means to me!” I wouldn't have been surprised if he had started jumping in place.

I returned to my office. It was nearly 2 in the afternoon, the shop closed at 4 on Saturdays. I'd have tomorrow off to relax. I loved the place, but nothing beats a day away.

After about a half an hour, Aaron could be heard before he was seen, grunting and groaning as he pulled the over-full cart to the counter. “I think I'm done,” he panted through the glass wall with a smile.

I walked out and looked at his collection. “Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted supplies.”

“I'll probably be back. I just don't know if much more than this will fit in my trunk,” he looked at me nervously. “How much do you want for all this?”

“Well, I really like your work and I've been thinking, would you be willing to take it in trade? I have that empty patch of grass out there in front by the shop sign and I've been wanting to pretty it up a bit. I'll let you put out a sculpture with your name on it and I'll give you what you have in the cart today. I get a prettied up front yard, you get more supplies.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Nope,” I smiled.

“Oh, that is just awesome. I know just the piece, too! Here.” He reached into an outer pocket on his satchel. “The city is having a party next weekend to celebrate the beginning of the basketball season and the grand opening of Brothers Arena. I'm installing a piece at the grand entrance and I'm supposed to invite guests. Bring your mechanics, or whoever you want. That's my card and some flyers. Call me and let me know how many tickets you need.”

I looked at the card and smiled. I'm not a crowd kind of person. My eight mechanics, the two warehouse guys, and my receptionist, Bonnie, who happened to have a wedding to attend that day, were about as ‘crowded' as I got. The fact that a giant arena to hold the new professional basketball team and other miscellaneous activities had been built was already making me nervous.

Several years ago, the arena the Cavs used had a horrible fire and the team was out a home. They relocated to Cincinnati,, but northern Ohioans were lacking a team. After a lot of bidding, begging and proving, Massillon's wealthiest businessman had amassed enough money, commercial backing and capital from business partners to start a new NBA team in our fair city. From the time of the approval from the league until now, it had been about four years. This gave plenty of time for building the new Brothers Arena that was located where the old golf course had been. The thought of going to the new arena for anything made my skin crawl. The expected increase in revenue for the city had put all of the residents under pressure to make some major changes. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I looked at Aaron and smiled. “That sounds fun, I'll have to check my calendar and get back to you.”

Aaron and I spent the next half hour talking about the classes we took together, his art, cars and their parts, and then the conversation quickly morphed into other topics such as the promised changes to the city, and the pros and cons of the transition. I was really enjoying talking to him and hoped having him around while he did his installation would allow me more time to catch up. Just then, my cell phone rang. No one ever called me on my cell unless it was an emergency.

The display told me it was my sister-in-law. “Mae?” I heard Gina's voice with a rapid breath before I even had a chance to say hello.

“What is it, Gina?” I could tell immediately something was wrong.

“It's Brandon,” she sniffled. “He's been hit by a car.” Brandon is my nephew. Not having children yet myself, he and his brother, Mitchell, had been my favorite kids in the world. Brandon was 12 and Mitchell was 5, and I loved spoiling them rotten. “What do you mean hit by a car?!” I said with a gasp. Aaron covered his mouth in horror.

“He was outside with Mitchell playing basketball. The ball rolled into the road, Mitchell ran out to get it, but Brandon pushed him out of the way of traffic and he got hit by the car instead, oh Mae!”

“How is Brandon?” I asked nervously.

“He's conscious. I think he broke bones, who knows what else Mae. My baby,” she began to cry full force.

I felt a tear run down my cheek. Aaron reached across the counter, grabbed a tissue from a nearby box, and handed it to me. “What do you need me to do, Gina? I can come right now and do whatever you need. Do you need a ride to the hospital?”

“No, Max is here, he's driving. They took Brandon by Air Bear to Akron.”

“What the heck is Air Bear, Gina?”

“It's Akron Children's Hospital's helicopter. They call it Air Bear.” She seemed to think this was something I would know.

“Why didn't you ride in the copter with him?” I asked.

“Your brother and I are both too shaken up right now to be driving alone.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Where's Mitchell?” I asked, trying to figure out what I could do.

“He's with my mom.”

“Ok, try to calm down, Gina. I'll leave here and meet you in Akron.”

“No, Mae…I have something I need you to do and I don't know how to ask you,” she said with a combination of nervousness and tears in her voice.

“Anything Gina, you know that.”

“Do you know what today is?”

I wracked my brain. “No, what day is it?”

“Mae, this is the day Brandon is supposed to meet Elsu!”

My heart dropped suddenly for Brandon. Elsu was the big favorite for the new team. Brandon had been a fan since Elsu played for Ohio State. He'd played the last few years in Phoenix, but when the new team was announced, he made it clear that he wanted to come home. Brandon's room was a shrine to the man. Posters, news articles, tennis shoes, basketballs and jerseys covered every available space. He even had a one-of-a-kind Whoopsters afghan that Gina's mom had made for him just days after the logo and mascot were revealed.

The schools in the area had run an essay contest for kids who were interested in meeting Elsu Benjamin. Brandon worked tirelessly on that essay and created a masterpiece. When it was announced on the last day of school before summer that he had won, a permanent smile had become etched on his face from that day forward. I had been praying that Elsu was everything Brandon was hoping. I would have hated to see his dreams crushed because Elsu turned out to be an arrogant ass.

“Can't you reschedule?” I asked Gina.

“No, the season starts next week, and Elsu won't have any time. The only thing Brandon said after he was hit was ‘I won't see Elsu,'” said Gina sadly.

I hesitated briefly, wondering what in the world Gina had planned for me. “Where do I come in?” I asked finally.

“Mae, I need you to go to our house and grab the brown paper bag of stuff that's on the dining room table and take it to Elsu's house.”

“Gina, seriously? You know that's not my kind of thing. I don't do people.”

“Mae, you work in a public place,” said Gina.

“Yeah, and I don't usually have to deal with customers. That's Bonnie's job,” I said.

“All you have to do is take the stuff to his house in Independence, have it signed and bring it back. Think about Brandon!” She knew I'd do anything for that kid.

“Ok, fine. What's the address?”

“I'll text it to you, you have to be there at five, and Mae,” she sniffed, “thank you!”

“You're welcome, go take care of Brandon!”

I hung up the phone and looked at Aaron who was leaning on the cart of parts.

“I remember you talking about your nephews back in school. I think Mitchell was just a baby then. Brandon got hit by a car?” he seemed genuinely worried.

“Yeah, He was pushing Mitchell out of traffic and got hit himself.”

“Oh my word, Mae! Do you need me to do anything?” asked Aaron.

“I don't think so, Aaron, but thank you. I have to drive to Elsu's house in Independence.”

“ELSU? The basketball player?”

I looked at him sideways, “How many Elsu's do you know?”

Aaron grinned at my attempt at a joke. “Just the one,” he said with a smile, “maybe you'll meet Saraya.” He seemed to be trying to lighten my mood.

“Who's Saraya?”

“Really? Saraya is his girlfriend, or fiancé, or friend with benefits, or something. How did you not know that?”

“I honestly don't pay attention to that kind of thing. I only know who Elsu is because Brandon has been obsessed with him for more than half his life. That kid's room is insane.”

“So, you're one of the ‘Nopesters'?” That was the name for residents who had been making it difficult for the city to expand as needed to make way for the incoming flux of visitors. Between the basketball team, a new B league hockey team, and
the various concerts and other uses for the venue, the town was expecting to see a lot of tourists, particularly in the late hours.

“No, I'm not one of those weirdos, I just don't follow gossip, or sports for that matter,” I said as I sat down at Bonnie's desk.

“You don't look so good, Mae. Are you ok?”

“I feel helpless right now. I want to do something.”

“Well, if Elsu is as important to Brandon as you say, you are going to be doing something.” Aaron looked at his watch and at his cart of parts, “I should probably get going, but I really had fun talking to you. It's a shame it has to end on such a sour note. But I'm glad we had a chance to get back in touch. I can't wait to bring the piece and set it up! Seriously, if you need anything, just call me, you have my card. Hopefully I'll see you next weekend.”

“It was good to see you too, Aaron. Congratulations on all of your success. That's really great that you get to put a piece in at the new arena. What's the official title now? Brothers Arena?”

“Yep, Jonathan Brothers is the bigwig now. Who knew anyone local was rich enough to own a team
and
the arena?”

“That's what I was thinking!” I smiled. “Let me help you out to your car,” I said, as I held the door open for him to push the cart through. He drove a Prius. “This is your car?” I asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, what's wrong with it?” he asked.

I faked a smile and stepped back as he opened the trunk. “Not a thing.”

“Are you a car snob?”

“Not a snob, I just have a preference for old quality. I didn't picture you as a Prius kind of person, that's all,” I said as I watched him load parts into his trunk.

“Ok, car snob, what kind of car do you drive?” he asked with a smile.

I pointed across the lot to my truck. “I drive Little José,” I said as we both took in the majesty that was my 1971 Ford F250. Ok, majesty may be a bit of a stretch, but it was my majesty. From the outside it looked like hell. The original paint was still there, two tone green and white. Age had seen to it that it was starting to rust and some trim was missing, but I didn't care about its outward appearance. I knew what was inside.
Everything had been rebuilt or replaced under the hood and underneath. Someday I'd get to fixing the rest of it, but right now, I knew that what it had in it was way more awesome than any car you could find today.

“Did you just call it ‘Little José?” Aaron laughed.

“Yep, that's his name,” I smiled.

“I thought vehicles were females,” said Aaron as we started walking to my truck.

“That's an old wives' tale. Besides, he came with the name. I didn't have the heart to change it,” I said as we rounded to the rear, where the words “Little José” were air brushed across the tailgate.

Aaron eyed the vehicle suspiciously. “Does it run?”

“Of course it runs,” I said as we went to the front and I popped the hood. Sun glistened off the chrome engine. “Everything about him is new…on the inside,” I said. “I just haven't had a chance to deal with his outside.”

“And you're planning to drive
this
to Elsu's?” Aaron stepped back and folded his arms across his chest.

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