Love of my life

As long as I could remember, I saved my change in large jars. I delivered papers and mowed lawns, collected bottles and ran errands, anything that would bring me closer to realizing my goal. I carried a little black book in my chest pocket, where I kept all my hopes and dreams, and how I would achieve them.

My goal and my obsession, was old man Jacksons 1969 MGB. I know he has it in the garage behind his house, as I have sat in it many times.

Mister Jackson had built the car with his son for his sixteenth birthday, before I was born. His son was killed by a drunk driver while he waited for his father to pick him up after work. The man lost control of his vehicle and ran over his son from behind, killing him instantly. They were going to go for a drive up the coast in the beautifully refurbished sportscar. The car has not been driven since. Mister Jackson put the car up on blocks and drained the antifreeze. The top was up and a new car cover protected it.

On my sixteenth birthday, I recruited my father to help me exchange all the neatly rolled coins. I had called ahead and made an appointment with the bank manager.

The coins were so heavy I had to place them in an old yellow milk crate and use a dolly. The manager guided me though the desks to his office in the back. My father sat at the back of the office to allow me to deal with the manager.

As we counted, the manager was curious how I had accumulated so many coins. I told him my story and about my obsession. The count quickly reached a thousand dollars, the two thousand. A half hour later we had reached a total of twelve thousand three hundred and eight dollars.

My body was shaking as the adrenaline ran through my body. I had never seen so much money in my life. Excited, I blurted out. "I need another seven thousand six hundred and ninety two dollars."

Both my dad and the bank manager broke into laughter.

I looked desperately at my dad.

The manager looked up my account number and shrugged. "You have enough."

My dad stared at me for a second. "Mister Jackson's MG?"

"Mister Jackson's MGB." I smiled.

My dad looked at the bank manager and tilted his head. "Give the man his money." he smiled.

The manager smiled and got up to retrieve the remained of the cash.

My dad put his hand on my shoulder. "I don't think he will sell the car."

"I have to try." I knew he was right. "I have to have that car, it's all I've ever wanted."

The bank manager returned with the remainder of the cash and counted it out in front of me, before placing it into a brown envelope and handing it to me. "Good luck with you purchase, young man."

I could hardly hold the cash, my hand was shaking so bad. My body vibrated all the way to the car. I pulled the little black book from my chest pocket and I put the cash inside. When I tried to put it back into my chest pocket, the package was now too large, so I put it in the side pocket of my jacket.

The short ride home could not happen fast enough. I couldn't stop thinking about the MG. I could picture myself driving it up the coast with the top down, the wind blowing through my hair. My daydream ended as we pulled into the driveway.

I looked down the road, to old man Jackson's house. I did not see his truck in the driveway and hoped he would be home soon. My hand has not moved from my jacket pocket, and my wad of cash.

I was too excited to sit and wait so I decided to go over and look at my new car while I waited for old man Jackson to sell it to me.

I sneaked into his yard and ran to the garage. Unknown to Mister Jackson, the window in the back had never been locked. I knew this as I mowed his lawn with the lawnmower he kept in the garage. This is how I knew about the car.

I checked my surroundings carefully before opening the window and pulling myself through. The garage was dark except for the light of the window. I gently pulled the cover off the car and set it down behind. I opened the door and sat down in the seat. I grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and squeezed, rubbing my hands over the leather wrap.

I laid my head back and closed my eyes, making engine noises as I went through the gears. I was in heaven.

I heard old man Jackson's truck pull into the driveway. A shot of adrenaline spiked in my body. I quietly returned the car cover and scrambled out the window, careful to close it behind me.

I waited behind the garage until mister Jackson entered his house and I felt safe enough to return home. I thought I would give him time to have his dinner before I would return to knock on his door.

When I got home, I hung up my jacket and tried to eat my own dinner.

The anticipation of bargaining for my own car was overwhelming and I couldn't wait any longer. I told my dad it was time, and he accompanied me over to Mister Jackson's.

I couldn't contain my excitement and my chest was pounding. I ran up the stairs and pounded on the door. My dad chuckled until Mister Jackson opened the door, looking annoyed.

"Jacob," he started as he looked past me to my dad. "What brings you over. Is it time to mow the lawn again?"

"I'm here to give you your money back." I replied. "I want to make you a deal."

"A deal." Mister Jackson straightened up. "What kind of deal did you have in mind?"

"I want to by your car." I spoke up boldly.

"My truck?" he looked confused.

"My black book tells me you have paid me two thousand dollars for mowing you lawn for the past five years." I tried to sound shroud. "I am prepared to offer you ten times that for the car in the garage."

Mister Jackson's expression went blank. He lowered his head and a tear ran down his cheek. "That car is not for sale, Jacob."

"I have the cash, Mister Jackson." I reached into my jacket pocket and my book, with the cash, was gone. I twirled around, scanning the area around me.

I started to panic, and my breathing became erratic. My knees were so weak I could hardly hold myself up. I desperately searched my pockets, nothing.

I ran back towards our house, retracing my path. I looked to see if there were people around but the street was quiet.

I ran up the front stairs and through the door. I searched frantically around the area I hung my coat. I checked the pockets of my other jackets.

The reality set in and I broke down, crying. I slumped down the wall and sat with my head in my hands.

My father made his apologies to Mister Jackson and returned to the house.

"What happened Jacob?" he asked apologetically.

"I lost the money." was all I could squeeze out. "I had it in my book and now that is gone too."

"Try to calm down, try to take some deep breaths." he knelt down beside me. "Try to remember the last time you had it."

I stood up and wiped my eyes. I wanted to face this like a man.

"The last time I had it I...." I stopped, not wanting to reveal where I had been. I had to decide if my secret was worth twenty thousand dollars. I decided it was not.

"I was over at Mister Jacksons earlier." I tried to minimize my role. "I just had to see the car and Mister Jackson wasn't home yet. I'm going to go over and ask Mister Jackson if I can search in his yard."

"I'll come with you." my dad sounded suspicious.

He walked beside me as we walked over to old man Jacksons. Walking up the drive we saw the garage door was open and Mister Jackson sitting behind the wheel of the freshly dusted car.

As I reached the garage door, I realized he was reading my little black book with the envelope of cash resting on the dash.

For a split second rage grew when I saw him with my book. The emotion passed as quickly as it grew as I realized I was standing in his garage.

He looked at me over his reading glasses. My father walked in behind.

"How long have you been breaking into my garage and sitting in my car?" he asked, rather non salient. He held up the book.

"For years, sir." I bowed my head. "I've dreamed of this car since I started mowing your lawn."

"I don't know if I'm more upset about you breaking into my garage," he started.

"I didn't break in. You left the window unlocked." I realized the stupidity of remark as soon as I said it.

"Or that you never came to me and talked about it." Mister Jackson continued.

"I know it reminds you of your son, and I didn't want to offend you." I began. "I watched you sit in the car and talk to your son, when I mowed the lawn. I thought if I came in here and talked to your son, maybe he would let you sell me the car. I came in here a lot because I wanted your son to know I love this car as much as he did."

I could see the tear in his eye.

"I believe you because I read your book." he smiled. "My son and I built this car for a sixteen year old man, so I see no reason why it shouldn't stay that way.

I was so overcome with emotion, I wanted to cry and was barely holding it together.

Mister Jackson picked up the envelope and thumbed through it. He opened it up and took out ten thousand dollars. He held it up and showed it to me.

"This is how much I have invested in the car." He said. "This will be enough. You will need to spend some time preparing the young lady for the road. She has been sitting for a good long time. Perhaps your father could give you a hand."

I looked over at my dad and he was wiping his eyes, a lot. "I couldn't think of anything better."

I looked at Mister Jackson and he slapped my book lightly against my chest. "I know you will take care of my girl. Remember, the cheapest part of owning a car, is buying it."

Everyone in the room was wiping their eyes. I placed the much lighter little black book back into my chest pocket. I handed the envelope of cash to my dad.

I took a deep breath and shook my head, smiling. All I had worked for and all my dreams came true in one afternoon. Now life really begins.