DOLLAR FOR DOLLAR
YOU CAN’T BEAT A PONTIAC

September, 1951

“What do you think?  Peter Belden got out of the shiny new 1951 Pontiac Chieftain Station Wagon and walked around to where his wife was waiting. “I know it’s costly, but with three kids, we need something reliable.  I checked and with the discounted interest rate the bank gives employees, I think we can afford the payments; less than $30 a month.

His wife, Helen, shifted the baby she was holding from one hip to the other. “We discussed the need for a new car, but I was thinking it’d be a new USED car.  Thirty dollars a month seems to be a lot. I know we’ve been doing well since you got your promotion.”  She shrugged. “I certainly don’t know much about cars...I guess it’s your decision.”

“No, Helen.  WE make the decisions about finances AND cars.  But I’ve been to White Plains and back and I can’t seem to find anything used that I want you driving.  And it’d be almost as much per month for a used car.”

“But it would be paid off in two years instead of three.”

“Somebody else’s troubles.” Peter’s father, Hal, walked across the gravel drive from the barn.  “Nice car, Peter. Is this what you’re buying?”

Hal turned to Helen. “I’ve always said buying a used car is buying somebody else’s troubles. You wait until you can afford new or make do with what you have.  That’s why I’m still driving that old Model A.” He pointed to the battered pickup truck parked in front of the barn. “It’s beginning to look like it’ll be my first truck and my last.”

“Dad.  The doctor says...”  Peter protested.  His father had been forced to retire after having two heart attacks four years earlier.  He had healed well, but his family still worried that he worked more around the family farm than he should.

“Did you go to Page Pontiac on Highland?” Hal changed the subject. “Automatic?” he read from the details on the window sticker.  “You pay full price?”

Peter nodded. “I thought Helen might appreciate the automatic transmission.  I got $100 trade in for the Chevy and $100 off the sticker price.

The older man nodded his approval. 

“I stopped in to look at some of their used cars, but Hank Page convinced me I could get a ’51 model for about the same monthly payment. They’re anxious to get these off the lot and make room for the ‘52s.”

Hal Belden rubbed his chin. “Start ‘er up.

Peter ran around to the driver’s side and got in.  He turned over the motor and the engine roared.  “Straight eight, 116 horse power, 120 inch wheelbase chassis with the larger 7.60x15 tires at no extra cost.” he called out to his father.

“The Basic Group includes the Venti-Heat underseat heater and defroster, the Chieftain 7-tube radio, back-up lights, turn signals and a non-glare rear view mirror.  This car has both the Comfort and Convenience Packages.  The Comfort Group comes with the exterior visor, traffic light viewer, latex foam seat cushions and windshield washers.  The Convenience Group includes the electric clock, outside rear view mirror, visor vanity mirror, glove compartment light, the combination ashtray and map reading light, and the combination under hood /trouble light.”

“A lot of toys that just run up the price.”  Hal popped the hood and watched as the engine ran. “She does sound good.” He slammed it back down. 

“Is this one of those Indians that lights up?” he yelled over the motor running. An Indian head medallion was featured prominently in the center of the grille opening, The standard hood ornament was a chrome-plated Indian brave; but the deluxe ornament on this car was fitted with a translucent amber Indian head insert that illuminated whenever the parking or headlamps were lit.

Peter turned on the lights.  “How’s that, Pop?”

Hal ran his hand across the front of the car and along the hood. A Pontiac name-plate was incorporated into the top arched grille bar attached to the hood.  Pontiac’s famous Silver Streaks adorned the center of the hood, rising from the front name-plate, up and back to the base of the windshield and then continuing on the deck lid to meet the rear name-plate.

Helen had been watching in silence until the toddler she held began to fidgit. Their little girl was twice as active as either of the boys. “I think I need to get inside and check on the boys, while you two big boys outside continue to salivate over what is obviously our new car.”

“C’mon Dad. Get in. Helen! Get Mom and the boys. We’re take it for a spin.  This baby can hold all of us.  And once you feel how this rides, you’ll be sold, too.

Helen placed the baby in the back seat. “Watch Trixie while I...Mama B, Mart!  Brian!”  she called as she headed towards the house. “Come ride in Daddy’s new car.

Helen knew the decision was made, but if Peter were sold, so was she.  After all it was his first.

STYLED FOR BEAUTY
BUILT FOR STURDY

June, 1963

Jim Frayne pulled up in front of the main entrance of the Manor House and turned to his adoptive father. “I will never be able to adequately thank you, Dad.”

“You don’t have to, son.” Matthew Wheeler patted him on the arm.

“It’s not just the car...it’s everything you’ve done over the past few years.  I was headed towards becoming an uneducated laborer on a cattle boat to who knows where.  Now I have a family, this beautiful home, financial security, an education...and a brand new Jeep.  It’s difficult for me to believe it all and it’s impossible for me to accept such an expensive gift.”

Matt hesitated before continuing. “It’s more than a gift, Jim. You earned this; straight A’s, finishing high school in three years, living as an example to our daughter and her friends, and all while dealing with unspeakable struggles.”  He opened the passenger door before Jim could respond.  “Now it’s time to show it off to your sister and her friends.”

“Is Mother here?”

“She was with me when we were looking around.  We saw these new Jeep Wagoneers and we both hoped it’d be what you’d like. I asked the dealer to hold it until I could show it to you. Not only will it be useful when you go hunting or camping, but it’s safe.  She predicted you’d want the dark green. You can thank her at dinner.”

Jim got out of the car, stood and watched his father go into the stately home. While he waited for his sister, he reflected on the events of the past week: being named Valedictorian of his high school class, being named a National Merit Scholar, attending prom with his special girl, parties with his friends, family and classmates and, today, his father presenting him with a brand new Jeep Wagoneer station wagon.  His current life was a world away from how he had been living just three years earlier; in near poverty with a brutal step-father and with little hope of escape.

He wiped a smudge from the gleaming green paint and looked up at the door of Manor House, hoping that his girlfriend might be with his sister. None of his good fortune would have been possible without her and he was anxious to share his excitement over the car.

“Where is it?” The door flew open and a petite blonde came running down the steps. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! It’s gorgeous! Is it really yours?  It’s beautiful.” She ran around the car and wrapped her arms around him.

“Are you...Is it what you wanted?  Honey and I heard that your parents were looking at Jeeps.  We both said it would be perfectly perfect.”  She pulled away. “It is.  It’s perfectly perfect. The color. What’s it called?  Oh, I love it.

“It’s called Spruce Tip Green.”  Jim laughed. “And the interior is...”

Trixie pulled open the driver side door. “Oh it’s green inside, too.  I love the green and white checked fabric.  Is that real leather?”

“Vinyl. And the interior color is Sylvan Green.”

Trixie slammed the door shut.  “Is this wood?”  She rubbed the faux wood strip along the side of the car.  “Guess not, but is this what they call a Woodie?”

“No, Trix.  Woodies are older wagons from the 40s and 50s, usually with real wood siding.”

“Like my parents’ old Pontiac?”

“Probably.” The Beldens had traded their Pontiac station wagon long before Jim had moved to Sleepyside and he had never seen it.

“So tell me about it.” Trixie finally calmed down.

“It’s a Jeep Wagoneer 145.  New this year. My parents saw it at the dealership and agreed it was what they wanted to give me for graduation.   Dad took me over this morning and I test drove it and agreed I liked it.  Liked it?  I love it Trixie.  But I’m still not sure I should have accepted it.”

“You need something to drive, Jim.  And it’s ten times better than the old BWG Wagon.

“Now tell me more...I know you guys always like to talk about CCs and HPs and whatever.”

Jim laughed, then sobered as he wiped a smudge from where Trixie had touched the door.  “It’s the first vehicle of its kind; passenger car styling and comfort with off-road capabilities.”

“I’ve seen the ads. Styled for beauty, built for sturdy,” Trixie interrupted.

“Claims there’s room for six, but I think we can fit all the BWG’s.”

“As long as there’s plenty of room for me.” She smiled coyly.

“It’s got a 230 cubic inch, six-cylinder Tornado engine with 40 HPs; that’s horsepower.”

“I know.”

“It has the biggest cargo area and lowest tailgate of any wagon; makes it easy for hauling a lot, but also someone as tiny as you can load things in the back.  And I got the electric window and seat belt options.  Makes it safer.”

“How are electric windows safer?”  Trixie opened the door again so she could inspect the interior more closely.

“When you’re driving it alone.  You can lower the windows to let in air, but roll them all up without stopping the car.”

“It’ll be awhile before I can even get my license, much less when you’ll risk my driving it.” Trixie climbed up into the driver’s seat.  “Wow!  I can actually see from here!”

“That’ll all come soon enough.  I hope we’ll still have this when we...It’s not just good for off road use.  It’s the world’s most sensible family car.”

“What?” Trixie was playing with some of the dials on the dashboard and hadn’t heard what Jim said. “Well, are we going for a ride?”

“Is Honey coming?”

“Our friend Steph’s here. She and Honey have taken over the kitchen and are making strawberry preserves. They want to give it as Christmas gifts this year.”

“I thought Honey always helped your mother with that.”

“Honey and Steph wanted to work together this year. Moms has taken over our kitchen making her own strawberry jam. The strawberries are ripening and Cook has the day off so they’re making their own. Steph is absolutely gifted in the kitchen and she’s helping Honey. I’ve been helping Moms all morning and I came up here to take a break. They tried to put me to work, but I don’t think I could look at one more berry without getting sick.” Trixie scooted across the bench seat and Jim climbed in beside her. “So I told both of them to keep canning; that they can wait for April and Kaye without me. April and Kaye said they didn’t have time to help, but someone should be here if they change their minds.”

“Wait? For what?”

“You did say that this is great off road, or at least on steep back roads?”

“Yeah.” Jim started up the car. “Hear that.  Isn’t it great?”

“Mmm...I guess.”

Jim reached over to grab the seat belt that Matt had just used.

“You want me to wear that?”

“Of course, Trixie. They were an option that I made certain the car had.”

“But if I’m buckled up, then I can’t sit next to you.  Why else would you get bench seats?”  She snuggled close to Jim and looked up at him.  “I thought...”

“It’s what came...Oh!”  Jim blushed when he realized that Trixie wanted to sit close and began digging for the middle seat belt.  “Here!”  He pulled it out from between the seat and seatback and reached across Trixie. “It has a third seat belt.”

“Perfect.”  Trixie said after it was securely locked.

Jim tugged on one of her curls, then fastened his own seatbelt and put the car into gear.“Any place you’d like to go miladay?”

“You don’t know? I was pointing out that you now have a car with bench seats and off-road abilities.  I don’t see Honey or any other Bob-Whites around. You’re smart. You can figure it out.”

Jim looked over and grinned nervously.  “I’m not so sure, Trixie.  It’s...you’re...”

“Take me to up to the top of...you know...our hill.”

Jim headed down the driveway and onto Glen Road.

“Since when is it our hill?

“Since you got a car with bench seats and we don’t have to hike there.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Since you got this. Your first...

PRACTICAL, RELIABLE,
INTELLIGENTLY DESIGNED

October, 1974

Brian Belden pulled into the driveway of the small semi-detached home he shared with his wife and young daughter.  He excitedly beeped the horn and waited for them to run out.

When no one responded he beeped again.

He beeped again.

And waited.

Finally he gave up and went inside the house.

“Terri?  Ginny? He called out as he came in the front door and hung his khaki hat on a hook, well above Ginny’s reach.  Toys were scattered all over the small living room and he could hear the washing machine chugging loudly in the kitchen.

“Daddy!” His twenty-two month old daughter ran across the room.

“Come see it!  Hot off...hot off...c’mon.”  He picked her up and continued to call his wife. “Terri! Come see it!”

“Daddy got a new car!” he spun the little girl around and headed back towards the door.

“Wait! Brian! Ginny needs her coat! And she’s not wearing shoes.”  Terri Belden came out of the kitchen and headed across the living room. She grabbed a small crocheted afghan from the back of a chair as she followed them out the door.

“What do you think?”  Brian asked as Terri stepped out onto the front stoop. “Is this the color you picked out?”

“It’s nice. Yes, it’s...You know blue is my favorite color.”

“It was worth waiting for the ‘75s to come out.  Several design changes...all safety related.”  He grabbed Terri’s hand and helped her down the steps.

Brian rested Ginny on one hip and pulled his very pregnant wife to him with his free arm. He kissed her on the top of her head.  “I’m so glad I can do this for you.”

Brian had just finished medical school when he and Terri were married. Their daughter Virginia was born several months later.  For three years they had struggled to live off his intern and residence’s salary at Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center. Terri was a gifted musician and was able to supplement their income by giving private lessons out of their small apartment in New York, but it was only part-time. With the adoption of the Uniformed Services Health Professions Revitalization Act the prior year, he’d been able to enter active duty in the Navy to complete his residency.  They’d recently moved to Virginia, where Brian was working at Portsmouth Naval Medical Center. At Brian’s insistence, Terri had postponed taking on any students until after the birth of their second child, who was due any day.

The jump in income from $125 to the almost-$2000 he earned per month as a Navy Lieutenant didn’t support a lavish lifestyle, but it allowed Brian to feel like he was finally supporting his family. They’d managed without a car in New York City, but trading public transportation for a family car now was one of his top priorities.

Born and raised in New York City, Terri knew little about cars, while Brian loved everything about them. He had carefully researched to find the safest and most reliable transportation for his growing family.  He had liked the 140 series Volvos but, when he learned that it was to be replaced in 1975 with a much safer and improved 200 series, he had decided to wait.

“Oh, Brian, it’s...it’s...beautiful.  Just as beautiful as the one we looked at in the showroom. But...but...it’s so expensive.

“Nothing’s too expensive for my family.” Brian rubbed his wife’s protruding belly. “Volvo is known for its safety and with the second baby...I want my family safe. And I don’t want you to be dealing with two babies on a bus.

“I’m so glad we waited for the ‘75. The overall safety of the driver and passengers in the event of a crash was greatly improved with very large front and rear end crumple zones. The 200 Series has MacPherson strut type front suspension, while the rear suspension is a modified version the 140 series. It has rack-and-pinion steering, with power steering, and there were some modifications made to the braking system.

“The main changes were made to the engine. The new B21 engine is a 2127cc, 4-cylinder unit, with a cast-iron block, a five-bearing crankshaft, and a belt-driven overhead camshaft.”

“I know Brian. You’ve told me all that.” Terri pretended to roll her eyes.

“Oh!  Look in the back!” He pointed towards two baby seats strapped into the rear seat. “I almost forgot!

“These are the new GM Love Child Seats.  I did some research and these are the newest and safest I could find.  The larger one is for Ginny.  She can use it until she’s forty pounds or forty inches tall. See...there’s plenty of room for her arms and legs and...”

“And that’s the Infant Love seat...for Whosit.” He pointed to the scooped plastic seat facing backwards. “It’s designed for babies under 20 pounds. The inclined surface and padding provide added support for the baby’s head and the back. And the “facing-the-rear” position gives an added measure of protection.”

Brian smiled widely. “What do you think, Ginny?” he asked their daughter. “Do you want to go for a ride in the new car?”

“Daddy new car?”

Brian walked around the car and opened the back seat door. “Mommy’s new car.” Ginny swung her feet as Brian strapped her in.  “Wide in car. Wide in car,”  she sang as he tucked the afghan around his daughter.

“C’mon Terri. Wide in car.”  He held open the passenger door.

“Buckle up.” He waited to make sure she wore her seat belt.

“My belly. It’ll never fit with these shoulder straps.”

Brian pulled down the belt and fastened it.  He pushed it down below his wife’s girth, slammed the door shut and then ran around to the other side.

“It tinks!” Ginny called out from the back.

“New car smell.”  Brian responded as he inhaled deeply.

“New car mell.  New car tink,” Ginny began singing.  “Daddy new car.”

“Hear that?” he started the car.  “It has everything we ordered.”

“Fake wood grain dash.” Teri laughed as she brushed her hand across the dashboard. “AM-FM radio. And an executive sized payment for an ‘executive car’”

Brian backed the car out of the driveway and headed towards the base gate.  “I thought we’d take it out on the Expressway, grab some lunch at The Beach...”

“Don’t you have to get back to the hospital?”

“Nope. I took off the rest of the afternoon to spend with my girls!”

“And you want to pay to take the toll road when we don’t have to.”  Terri laughed. “I think you just want to see how fast this can go.  I thought we were buying it for safety.”

“We are...I just...It’s not a fast car.”  Brian glanced over at his wife and smiled sheepishly. “I’ll let you drive back.”

“Go ahead. It’ll be mine if you get assigned overseas.” The car suddenly got quiet.  Brian had been lucky to get assigned stateside, but he could easily end up overseas or on a ship that would require long absences from his family.

“I’ve told you.  I’m not going without my family.”

“And what will you do with this if we all go?”

“We can ship it. We’ll find another Navy doctor and his pregnant wife to buy it...we’ll...hell, I’m not going anywhere for a while.

“And this...it’s...it’s...new! It’s not another one of those fix or repair daily specials I’ve always owned, and it’s not the bus!”.

“I know.” Terri shut her eyes and smiled, hoping to catch a quick nap on the ride.  “Just like me. It’s your first.”

YOU GOT IT!
TOYOTA

March, 1977

“Are you sure you want to buy it?  It’s awfully small.”  Diana Belden contemplated the long narrow shape of the car her husband had just parked in their driveway. “Is it safe?”

“Of course it’s safe. Toyotas actually have very good safety ratings. And it gets good mileage and it’s...it is soooo...cool.”

“What about repairs?  And parts?  I’ve heard...”

“Those problems are in the past.  They can’t make enough Toyotas now to meet the demand. To keep that up they have to provide good service. Isn’t it cool?” Mart Belden ran his hand over the elongated car hood.  “2.2 Liter 20R engine overhead cam, 14 x 5.5 in styled wheels, high-backed reclining seats, AM/FM stereo, air conditioning!“

“And what’s it called?”

"It’s a Celica GT Liftback.”

“Can four people fit into it?” Diana peered into the back seat, examining the low sitting seats, cramped by a sloping roof.

“It sits three adults in the back seat!”

“Three little boys maybe. I’d like to see Jim and Brian fit back there.”

“Jim and Brian don’t have to fit back there. We have two very little boys and there’s more than enough room for them.  By the way, where are they?”

Mart and Diana had been focusing on the car and not paying attention to their two young sons. 

“Micky?  Mick?”  Mart headed down the sidewalk in the direction of the neighborhood park.  “Does he have his bike?” he asked Diana.  Eight year old Michael had just mastered his two-wheeler and loved to ride to the neighborhood park. He was not allowed to make the trip unless with an adult.

“Jack!  John Martin Belden!  Jack!” Diana had taken off towards the back yard, calling their younger son. There was just a hint of panic in her voice.  Five year old Jack seldom left his mother’s side. Starting kindergarten that fall had been traumatic for the curly-haired brunet.  

Mart had reached the end of the block when Diana called him back.  Neither boy was with her, so he ran. 

“Do...pant...we need...to call the police?”

“You’re out of shape, dear husband.  I found them.”

Diana motioned with her finger for him to follow. 

They walked up the driveway and into the back yard where Diana pointed to an open casement window in the exposed foundation. “I keep forgetting to ask you to replace the lock.  I’ve found them there before.”

Mart looked in and saw his two sons playing with several Tonka trucks and cars in the dirt floor of the crawl space.  It was obvious they had played there before.  

“Daddy’s new car!”  Jack held up a small black car.  “It’s fast.”

“You don’t know that.  He just got it.  We haven’t ridden in it yet.” Micky admonished his brother.

“Mommy doesn’t like it.” Jack spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

“I never said that,” Diana started to protest, but Mart hushed her.

“Mommy will say yes.  Daddy will kiss her and tickle her and say all kinds of gross stuff and they’ll laugh and giggle in the bedroom and then Daddy will take us for a ride in his car.” Micky picked up a large truck and began digging in the dirt.

Mart and Diana stepped back, both trying to stifle their laughter.

“I didn’t know he could hear us!” Diana finally choked out.

“Do I need to kiss you and tickle you and say all kinds of gross stuff?”  Mart grabbed his wife and pulled her close. They shared a long gentle kiss. “I know it’s an extravagance, but you’ve had two new cars.  The Cougar was sportier than this and, now that the Chevy is paid off...the payments are reasonable.  My raise in January will offset any costs related to having two cars instead of one. And...

Diana interrupted him with another kiss. “If you promise to make me laugh and giggle in the bedroom tonight...I might say yes instead of no.”

Mart pulled away and began dancing around the yard. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”  He pumped his fist up and down. “Yes!

“Micky! Jack! Daddy’s taking us for a ride in his new car.” Diana went over to the basement window and helped two dusty, dirty boys climb out. 

She smiled at her husband as she tried to brush some of the dirt off the boys.  “It’s his first.”

BIKE IN AMERICA AGAIN

March, 1978

“Youse gonna’ lub dis bike, man. Can’t go wrong with a Harley.”

Dan Mangan shook the hand of the heavy set salesman, stuffed a heavy leather jacket in a saddle bag, and strapped a helmet onto the back of his new Harley Davidson FLH Electra Glide.

“Smart to git two helmets.  Dah ladies love dem Harleys. And dey like dose jackets, too.”

Dan chuckled. If you were paying over six grand for a motorcycle you’d think they’d throw in a couple helmets, if not a jacket, he thought. And he’d had to pay top dollar for them too! But he finally had a Harley, and you always paid a pretty price for one, especially for the largest and most powerful model.

“Ya did good, man. Harley’s are dah best.”  Dan smiled. After almost a year in Peru, it felt good to hear someone speaking English, even if it was with a heavy New York accent. Years of schooling plus time in the Marine Corps and, most recently, as a federal agent had erased much of his own accent, but hearing dis, dah and dem made him glad to be home.

“Thanks. I do plan to use this for dah ladies.” Dan zipped up his own jacket, put the second helmet on, tightened the chin strap and straddled the bike. He started up the engine.

“Nuttin like dah sound of a Harley,” the salesman called out over the loud roar.

Dan pulled out onto Lexington Avenue and headed south, hoping the lady in mind would be willing to wear the extra helmet and jacket.

The last time he’d seen her was the night before he’d left for Peru.  He wasn’t allowed to share details about where he was headed or for how long, and he could only promise that communication would be rare, if at all. They’d agreed somberly that it was best not to try to maintain a relationship under those conditions.  He’d left the country feeling as though his heart had been sliced in two.  More than his heart, he thought as he remembered that night, his entire being had been shattered.

After almost two months of silence, Dan received a letter that was forwarded via his uncle. He read it several times and realized that while they both might have said the relationship should be ended, neither of them truly had ended it.  Feelings were like that. You might try to deny them, but they didn’t just come and go at will. So he’d responded and they continued corresponding almost as if those fateful words had never been said. Almost.

Dan was back in the States and it was time to determine face-to-face if their feelings had withstood the lengthy separation and if it could survive almost certain separations in the future.

He saw the small sign for the Hunter College Child Study Center and slowed, turning left onto 67th Street. He passed the police precinct and the local fire company, and turned left again into the alley that separated the fire house from a synagogue. He stopped next to a small fenced parking area filled with marked police cruisers and watched the employee entrance.

He waited as several men came out of the building. Two in uniform got into one of the cruisers and pulled away while those who were in civvies and obviously were off duty walked up the alley towards Lexington.  A second group, also all men, exited a few minutes later. He feared he’d missed her and had almost given up when a woman came out alone. Dan offered a silent prayer that the others were gone.  Hopefully, there would be no witnesses if she refused him.

“Trixie!  Trixie...Officer Belden!” he called out.

The woman turned and stared blankly and he cursed himself for not getting a haircut and shave before coming by. He didn’t realize she might not recognize him.

But she recognized him immediately and hurried over.  Dan noted that she didn’t run, but at least she seemed to be glad he was there.  He tried to hide his disappointment when she didn’t hug him as she always had when she greeted him in the past.

“I’m back.”

“I see. Nice bike.” Officer Beatrix Belden of the New York Police Department focused her attention of the large heavy motorcycle.  “I thought you were getting a BMW...that they’ve had problems with Harleys the past few years.”

“It’s a Harley. You know there’s something about Harleys. It’s a Harley.”

“Yeah. I know. A lot of PDs use these.” She glanced up. “Is it an Electra Glide?”  She quickly focused back on the bike. “78?

Dan nodded but she didn’t notice.

“V2; four stroke engine?” She continued to stare at the bike.

“1206 ccm’s, 58 horse power, 760 pounds, 6.61 gal gas tank,” Dan recited the specifications. “80 cubic inch engine, sissy bar pack, luggage rack bag. I got the extra-large slant zip studded saddle bags.

“Plenty of room on the seat for two people.”  Dan waited for a response.

“What’ll you do in bad weather?”

“I already have a car...well, it belongs to the agency, but it’s mine.”

“And a second helmet, I see.”

Dan unzipped a saddle bag and pulled out the leather jacket.

“They’re for you.”

Trixie looked up at Dan, her eyes open wide. He had almost forgotten how blue those eyes were.  And how they always spoke the truth. Today they said that she was cautious, but not totally rejecting him.

“The past months...we...I...I think we made a stupid decision when we...I don’t know what I was thinking.  Dammit, Trix!

Whether I’m in New York or, or anywhere, I’ll never ask you to give up your career for mine. Never.”  Dan began fumbling with the strap of the second helmet. “I understand how important this is.” He pointed towards the police station. “You know that my work is important, too, but...”

He finally got the helmet strap untied and started to hand it to Trixie. “Nothing’s more important than you.”

“How long are you in New York?” Trixie stepped back without taking either the helmet or the jacket.

“Indefinitely. But you know that just means that I don’t know. It could be years or days. I go wherever they send me...at least for now.” Dan spun the helmet around in his hands, trying to hide his nervousness.

“Dammit! I love you, Trix. Always have and always will, no matter where I am.”

Trixie wiped the tears that were forming in her eyes. “You’ve never said that. I’ve never heard...”

“I’ve never said it to anyone.” He started to place the helmet over Trixie’s head but stopped.

“You’re the first.”

She started in surprise. “You and I both know that...”

“I didn’t mean that, Trixie. Love. You’re the first I’ve loved and you’re the first I’ve said that to.” He paused. “Well, except my mother.”

“And you’re mine too.” Trixie took off her light weight coat and stepped up to him. She turned so he could help her with the leather jacket and waited for him to wrap his arms around her. “I love you, too, Dan.” She placed her hands on his arms. “You’re the first I’ve said that to.  I just don’t know where we go from here.”

Dan placed the helmet over her head, turned her to face him, and fastened the strap under her chin. Satisfied the helmet was secured, he got onto the bike. “Let’s go someplace where I can tell you again. Where you can tell me again...And maybe...”

Trixie put her bag and coat in a saddle bag and laughed as she got on behind him. Dan started up the bike and she laughed harder when she heard the distinctive Harley roar. “It’s a Harley! Your first!”

THE ROAD STARTS HERE
IT NEVER ENDS

May 1, 1978

Dan Mangan slowed and turned into the driveway of Crabapple Farm, careful not to skid in the loose gravel.  Seeing the number of cars crammed into the parking area in front of the barn and along the narrow drive, he rode up onto the grass, turned off the powerful motor, and set the motorcycle up on the kickstand.  He took off his helmet and ran his hands through his short hair.  After a year of wearing a full beard and with hair that reached his shoulders, it felt strange to be so neatly groomed. 

He took a gaily wrapped package from a saddle bag and headed towards the farm house.  He had another, far more important, gift he planned to give Trixie later, but he felt it would seem odd if he showed up at her thirtieth birthday party empty handed. 

The crabapple trees were in full bloom and they revived memories of the many times he had walked up this same lane, often with friends. This was the first time all of those high school friends, members of a club they called The Bobwhites of the Glen, and their families, had been together in years.

He smiled as he realized how the cars lining the driveway reflected the many directions their lives had taken.

There, in front of the barn, was a brand new Chevrolet Malibu sedan. Dan wondered whose car that might be, until he realized that there was no longer a Country Squire Station Wagon in its usual spot.  He wondered if this might be Mrs. Belden’s first car that wasn’t a large wagon.

He chuckled when he saw a Wagoneer with temporary tags and tried to remember if this were Jim’s third or fourth Jeep.  Jim had loved his first Wagoneer and would probably still be driving it, if not for that accident; the accident that totaled the car, but left Jim with barely a scratch. Jim swore then that he’d never drive anything else.

He rubbed his hand along the shiny side of Brian and Teri’s Volvo wagon and stopped to read the For Sale sign in the side window.  Touted as an “executive car” and known for its safety, it had been perfect for the responsible young doctor and his wife.  Of course, now that they were moving overseas, they needed to sell it. The Navy would transport an officer’s car, but Brian could probably find something newer and cheaper in Italy.

Dan walked past Mart and Diana’s sleek Toyota Celica and decided that if he were to buy a car, that’s what it might be. He knew that, with their third baby due any day, Mart would soon be trading it for something larger and more practical. He wondered how he could convince Mart to sell it to him...at a good price, of course.

He was surprised to see a rusty ten-year old Camaro with Florida tags sitting next to the Waggoner. While he knew that Bobby loved that car and the power of its pre-emissions regulations engine, he’d have thought that a future Navy pilot would be driving something a little snazzier and newer. It was still hard for him to believe that little Bobby Belden could drive a car, much less be a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and in training to be a pilot.  Dan guessed that Bobby would have plenty of opportunities after he finished flight school to look for his first new car. 

Just as he got to the back door, Dan heard a car pull into the driveway. He waited as the unfamiliar white Chevrolet pulled onto the grass besides his motorcycle.  He watched as a tall thin woman got out and headed towards him, unable to recognize her for the sunglasses that covered most of her face.

“Dan?” She called out and began running towards him. “I thought you...Trixie said...”

Dan pulled her into a hug. “I’m back...and we’re back...back together.”

He hugged her tighter. She had travelled the furthest of all the Bobwhites and the Chevy was obviously an airport rental. “You look great, Mz. Wheeler.  Got any more bags?”

“I do.  There’s a large package for Trixie on the backseat, but I really need to use the lady’s room. Would you mind?  The car’s unlocked.”

Dan gave Honey his package to take inside and headed towards the rental car.  As he walked back past the cars, he realized how much he cared for the people who owned these vehicles, but the one person he cared about most, didn’t have a car in the drive. He supposed that it was another thing they might share.

Her first.

Patricia's Passages Butterflies Home

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