JPT01

Just Passing Thru By Lugnutz

Chapter One

"Nigel, come here and give me a hand" Nigel hears this over the stereo, and go's to help his dad out of whatever mess he's about to get himself into.

"What's up, pop?"

"Wanna give me a hand with this? Too damn heavy"

"Ok, where do you want me at?"

"Over the fender, help me get it so I can get it on the bench"

"Say when."

"Lift. Damn this is heavy, ok lets get it on the bench so I can look at it."

Dad was always top notch when it came to cars, didn't matter what it was, even though, he was partial to the early American muscle cars.

He started this business when I was a kid, and it's grown a lot from the one stall garage it started out as. Now, we have 4 bays, with hoists in each one. And more tools that you know what to do with. I loved working with my dad. We got along great, especially when I came on full time after I graduated school.

I was watching my dad examine the cylinder head I helped him just remove, and it seems he found the problem right away.

"Come here son, I want to show you something." He asks me.

"What am I looking at?" I walk over to the bench he's sitting at.

"Look between those valves, see the crack?" Pop points out the crack with his pen.

"Yup, no wonder it was using coolant."

"You got it. Now, do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Pull the other head" He grinned as he asked me.

"Gee, thanks pop." I roll my eyes and shake my head.

I get the tools ready to get the other head off the truck we're working on while pop heads to the office to relax some. He hasn't been up to par in the last few weeks, feeling kind of weak, and sick. But, will he go see a doctor? NO. Bullheaded, and I wondered where I got it from.

With the day done, we hop in the truck for the trek home, and dinner.

Once settled in front of the TV for the eve, dad settles on a nature show and he leans back on his recliner while I'm on the couch.

"Son?" Son? He rarely calls me that.

"Yeah dad?"

"Are you ever going to be happy, inside?"

"What do you mean?" I cock my head and look at him blankly.

"When are you going to find someone to make yourself happy?"

"Someone?" I still don't know where he's going with this.

"Yes, someone. You can fool most of the people, but you can't fool me." He smiles.

"I'm not trying to fool anyone. I am who I am." Just your average 20 year old going nowhere mechanic.

"Precisely the point I'm trying to make, your going through the motions, but your getting nowhere with it."

"What are you getting at pop?" I was getting tired of this cat and mouse routine.

"I've had an idea on what side of the fence you sit on for some time, but that don't matter to me. What I want for you, is to be happy, totally. Inside and out. When you find him, hold on tight. And, you have my blessing when the time comes."

"Was I THAT obvious? That is what I would like, someone I can be with." I don't know how I had the courage to just up and say that. My mouth was running before my brain engaged I guess.

"No, you are not obvious, just a fathers intuition I guess. You never know what's around the next corner. It could be tomorrow, or years down the road, but you WILL find your someone. I promise you." He said this with a look that said not to doubt him.

"Thank you, dad. That means a lot to me." A couple tears rolled down my cheek.

The rest of the night was a haze to me. The only thing going through my mind was what dad said. I've had certain feelings, but held them back. Now that dad brought it to the front of my mind again, I may have to do something about it, someday.

Oh yeah, today is Saturday, and a nice one by the looks of things. I had nothing planned, but it seems that pop did.

"Nigel!" Pop yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Dust the car off, we're going to a show. NOW, boy." With that, he starts guiding my out to the barn.

"Geesh, bossy bugger, aren't you?" I chuckled over my shoulder.

"Yes" He said, with the biggest grin I've seen in a long time.

I had to laugh at that, Dad was being goofy again. I got the car out and cleaned up.

We hopped in the mighty Vette and I'd swear pop was 18 again. As we turned onto the road, he stands on the gas, kicking the car sideways, smoking the tires for a good 100 yards, then grabs second gear, and continues the assault. And the neighbors think I'm the problem........... He could always drive that car, make it do whatever he wanted it to do, like the above mentioned. A big kid. I loved it.

Once pop got his pride and joy parked, I cleaned anything I missed, then we went to talk with some friends there. Pop ran into a couple guys he knew, so I went off myself to look at things there. Then I see someone familiar.

"Mollie!" I shouted over a few people.

"Nigel, is that you?"

"Fraid so, what brings you to a car show?" I was genuinely glad to see her. She's been my best friend since grade school.

"Dad, he wanted to do some bonding, so he brings me here." She smiled to me.

"Cool, isn't it? Want to bond for a while?" I grinned to her.

"Oh yeah, lets bond. At least I have someone to walk with, it seems my dad got caught up with friends." She wraps her arm across my back.

"Yup, mine too. Wanna walk?" I put my arm across her shoulders.

"Lead the way" We lead each other in the general direction of the concession stand.

Mollie and I were always friends, sometimes close. But I could never love her like I wanted to. Whoever won her hand, would be the luckiest man alive.

We talked about everything, and nothing when pop's conversation came up.

"I couldn't believe dad figured me out, I haven't really figured me out yet." I said to her, still wide eyed.

Mollie was the only person I was "out" to.

"I can't wait until I meet the man that wins your heart, you deserve it." She held me at arms length, looked me over, then batted her eyelashes.

"You know, I was just thinking that about you. Your the best friend I have, and a girl to boot." I smiled, then kissed her cheek.

"Well, you had to TELL me. I wouldn't have thought that about you, but it changes nothing with us. Except that we can compare boyfriends someday."

"Lets say that they would both be lucky."

After a sound hug, we found the concession stand where I bought her lunch as we discussed our future. It still looked uncertain, on my part.

After finding our respective fathers, the four of us wandered the show, pointing out different things, paint schemes, and the typical car guy, and gal stuff.

The show was winding down, when the award presentation was going to start. So, we walked to the area where that was taking place.

The MC was announcing names for various classes, with a cheer for each one. Then, the GM stock class was announced.

"And, the winner is, Albert Scribb!"

"Damn dad, you won!! Go get your trophy."

He walked to the podium for his trophy, raising it for all to see, and the applause came. He returned, showing me his prize. He was glowing, he was soo happy.

The day had to end, at least it was a happy ending. We got the car parked in the barn and covered up, then went inside for dinner.

"It was a great day dad" I said as I hugged him.

"It sure was, the trophy was just the icing on the cake." He was glowing.

"Oh yeah. I even talked with Mollie for a while too."

"I kinda figured that. It go well?"

"Of course." I didn't go into detail, but gave him the general run down.

After dinner, we got settled by the TV again. It didn't take long, and pop was snoring. I'm going to miss that sound someday.

"Damn, what a dream........." I thought to myself, as I woke up.

It started with a older red BMW that kept popping in my head, the car looked good. All I could see of the driver was the back of his head. When the driver got stopped and got out, his face was fuzzy. This was not making any sense to me, I did like BMW's and all, but to have a certain one in my dreams? The driver, from what I could see, looked good. But, how did this fit in?

I kept having that dream, in different versions for weeks. Sometimes, it was quick, and not a lot went on, other times, it felt like it went for days. I could see this guy in my dads house, laying on the couch, but the room looked different.

DAMMIT. This can drive a man to drink, if I did drink. I never really acquired the taste for it.

"Nigel, snap out of it! Your going to hurt yourself if you keep daydreaming like that." Pop said out of nowhere.

I blinked a couple times, and pop came into focus.

"Oh, sorry pop, I don't know what's going on in my head, but I keep having this one dream, and I can't figure it out." We have been talking about personal matters more lately.

"What's the dream about, if I may ask?" As he wipes his hands with a clean rag.

"It's cool. It's about this guy in a red BMW 3 series. I can never make the face out though." It was getting frustrating at times too.

"Well, I hear that dreams can tell your future, if you pay attention to them. To me, it sounds like something in the future that could happen, but what do I know?" He said as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I know enough not to doubt you, but this is weird."

"From what you could make out, did this guy look familiar?"

"Nope. Never got a clear look, it was blurred."

"Did he look good, like someone you might like to be with someday, if it should happen?" He asked, going into full "Dad" mode.

"Dang, you don't make this easy, but yes, he does look likeable." I almost wanted to wipe my chin.

"Don't ashamed about it, it's a part of you. And, if dreams become reality someday for you, I want you to know that you have my blessing. Just listen to your dreams."

"Geesh, you went and got mushy on me again. Thanks dad."

"One more thing, my son........." Uh oh, here it comes.

"Yeah?" As I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That car your leaning on needs a tune up also." He grinned.

"Bugger." I walked away, laughing.

That was one of pops better days. He hasn't been feeling well for months now, and has been steadily getting worse. Stubborn bastard won't see a doctor.

Weeks pass, with me having that dream more often, but not any better detail. Pop isn't doing any better either. He's not holding much down, and he's losing weight.

One day, he wasn't feeling well, and told me to go to work, everything is set there anyway. Just after lunch, I get a call from pop, saying he isn't feeling well, and to close up and bring him to the doctor. "It's about time" I thought to myself. I tell him I'll be there in a little bit, and to get ready.

When I get home and get inside, pop looks like 10 miles of bad road. I help him in the car, and we go to the hospital.

After we get inside, and get him registered, and take a seat for a while. His name is finally called, and we go to the doctors area where he is asked several questions, and we fill the doctor in on what has been happening. By this time, pop is asked to go to a room and get undressed and into a robe so he can get his vitals taken and other things. In the meantime, I'm pacing the doctors office, waiting to see pop, to see what is happening. Finally, I'm called, and go to the room where pop is, and find him on a bed with an IV in his arm. The doctor was there also, I'm told that pop was severely dehydrated, and their giving him fluids to get him to be able to hold something in his stomach.

After several hours, and many tests, it is discovered that this hospital can't handle what is happening with pop, and will be transported to the hospital in the city for further tests.

Pop pulls me aside before the orderlies put him on the gurney for the ride to the city.

"Don't worry about me, go home and get some rest, then see me tomorrow. I'll be fine."

"I don't believe you, but I'll go home, and will see you in the morning."

"I love you, son."

"I love you too dad."

When I got home, I remembered that there were a couple cars that needed to be fixed, and I couldn't leave those customers hang, and seeing that I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, I went to work, and started on those cars.

It was about 9am when I finally finished the cars. I called the customers, telling them I would leave their keys and bill in the car and to drop their check in the dropbox. I then went home, got cleaned up and ate something, then went to the city to see what is going on with pop.

I finally arrive, and find a parking spot, then head inside to see where they have him parked. It takes some time, but I finally find him, in a two bed room, and he was sleeping. At least he was looking a little better now. I find the doctor in charge, and see what the problem is.

"Nigel Scribb?" A guy in a white lab coat asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Gates. I'm in charge of the treatment of your father." He held his hand out, and we shook.

"Great! How is he doing?" I asked while we were still in the hallway.

"Lets go to my office so we can talk"

OH SHIT!

We go to his office, when he closed the door, and we sat at his desk.

"After numerous tests and x-rays, we found that your father has cancer of the pancreas" I've heard of this, but wasn't sure what it entailed.

"Is there anything that can be done to fix him?" I asked.

After a minute of silence, I get my answer. Pop wasn't coming home.

"There is no cure for this type of cancer, and it has started to spread to other parts of his body. I'm sorry, but at this point, there is nothing that we can do, other than keeping him comfortable and out of pain." My heart just fell.

C'mon Darren, keep it together, I thought to myself.

"How long?" I asked, trying to keep my composure.

"Two weeks, maybe three at best. I have to make some calls, to see if I can get him in at a nursing home where he can get more personalized care, for his final days." His voice showed compassion.

"Whatever it costs, do it. I don't want my dad hurting."

"Cost isn't a issue, the Hospice in our area will see that he is taken care of at the nursing home. Any type of medication he needs will be provided."

"Thank you, doctor. Dose he know what is happening?"

"Yes. I told him what was going on, and what I am trying to set up." He gave me several papers, mainly for reference.

"Let me give you some phone numbers for contact info, when things are finalized."

I give him the numbers, then go to dads room, and watch him sleep for a while.

I wake to someone poking my arm. I open my eyes, and see pop looking at me, with a sad look on his face.

"How are ya feeling pop?" I asked, my voice betraying me.

"Like shit. I take it you know now?" He asked with a sad look on his face.

"Yes................." A sob escaped me.

"Don't be like that, nothing can be done about it." He held my face and looked me in the eye.

"It still sucks, your not old enough to be leaving me yet........*sniff sniff*"

"Just remember what I told you, follow your dreams. I'll be watching you."

I couldn't take it anymore, and started crying. My head falling on his bed.

After an hour or so, I calmed down, and dad was still holding my arm the best he could.

"No more crying for me. I had a great life. A loving wife, until we lost her, then we moved to America and we set up a place here. You, are my pride and joy. I would do nothing different." He said, full of conviction.

"What am I going to do? I'll be alone, and I won't know what to do" I needed my dad.

"You sell yourself short. I've seen to it that you will be taken care of, the house, property and the shop are yours. Take care of them. But, if you break my car................." He chuckled.

"Dad?" I asked, with a tear streaked face.

"Go home, and get some sleep this time, I'll still be here. I will make sure that when I get moved, you will know." He pulled me into as loose hug.

"I love you dad."

"I love you more than life itself son. Now get home. You look like hell." He gave my backside a swat as I stood back up.

I gave him a kiss on his forehead, then left. I don't remember the drive home, but nothing was hurt. I made something to eat, then went to bed.

When I woke up, the sun was out, then I realized I didn't set my alarm. I got ready quick, then went to work, finding a couple cars there. At least my mind will be occupied for a while.

A week passes, and pop is now in a nursing home, in a private room. Between his friends and me, he doesn't have much time to himself, but that is good. Pop is getting worse by the day, but Hospice is taking very good care of him, and he's not hurting at all. His mind has been slipping, not knowing who people are, at times, where he is, and it's killing everyone he knows. He's having good and bad days, just not enough of the former. We talk about life, about work, and cars.

About two weeks after he was admitted, I get a call on my cell that I carry with me, from the nursing home, telling me that I need to get there as soon as possible. I close the shop and tear ass to the nursing home as fast as I can, knowing that this could be it. When I get there and see pop, I see that he is still with us. I talk to the nurse, and was told that he was having problems breathing, but that was taken care of, and pop is doing ok now. I go sit with him until he wakes up.

"Nigel..............." was whispered.

"Dad................ how are you feeling?" I croaked out.

"I've been better. I know I've never said this enough, but I do love you. Make me happy, by making yourself happy." He gave me a weak smile.

"I know you do, I see it every day, and I love you very much dad. And I will try to make myself happy." I said, holding his hand.

"I know you won't let me down, it will happen when you least expect it."

"Get some rest dad, I'll be back tomorrow." I stood back up and kissed him on his forehead.

"Bye son." He said as his hand rubbed my cheek.

I seen pop every day, and the cancer is affecting more of him every time I see him. I have a hard time being in the room with him at times, knowing that time is getting short, and that he is hardly himself anymore. His mind is almost a blank, be it people or things, nothing really registers anymore.

About a week after his first scare, I get another call from the home.

"Nigel Scribb?" The voice asked.

"Yes?"

"You need to get here as soon as possible. Your father is having an extremely difficult time breathing and is unconscious." The nurse informed me.

"I'll be there as quickly as I can." I told her.

I close the shop up, and get in the car, say a small prayer, then stand on the throttle. It took me ten minutes to go thirty miles.

I run into the home, and into the nurse taking care of pop. She told me that it was time.

I went into the room, and see pop, unconscious, and looking like he is breathing through his chest, not his lungs. I go to his side, take his hand and stroke his hair, telling him that I am there and he doesn't have to hurt any longer, and to let go, be free.

A few seconds later, I feel a light squeeze on my hand, then, the final breath is let out. The pillow sinks slightly as it is now over. Dad is free now.

To Be Continued.......................