The Tinkerer

            by Samuel Pardee

 

We didn't grow up rich. I think that I should start by mentioning that detail because in my recounting of this little piece of our family history, it will seem to the casual observer that I've always been rolling in the stuff. Some of my actions will seem inexplicable unless I first inform you that the money which I spent so freely came from a rather sound little railroad venture that I'd gotten into.

When I first heard about the idea of getting into the railroad business, it sounded like it would be too much for me. After looking into it, I found it suited me perfectly, I seemed to have a knack for the negotiations and had managed to make quite a large sum off of it.

     It's understandable therefore, that when my idiot (and I use this term in the literal sense) brother's birthday came around, I rolled up to the house in a brand new 1929 model-T Ford. "Happy birthday bro!" I yelled as I rounded the corner to his house with my wife in the back.

Edward came running from what I saw now was where he lives. His house was really more of a shack than a house, and from what he had told me, he shared it with a lot of other people. The problem wasn't so much the house as it was the neighborhood; a run down place where everyone on the street looked like they'd mug you for a dime if you gave them a chance.

I suppose that thinking back on it now I shouldn't have been surprised that his house was pretty pathetic. I hadn't seen him in over four years now, but I'd heard from him in letters that he wasn't doing so well. He wasn't doing as poorly as others, although he hadn't told me the exact nature of his business so I assumed that he wasn't a full time employee anywhere. I was pleased that he was writing letters though, he was such a slow kid that he had never gone to school or learned to read and write.

I began to prepare the dinner for us, looking around at what Edward kept in his pantry. It was pretty disappointing, I was expecting at least some meat for us eat on his birthday, but all he had was broth and bread. I guess the depression was hard on him, but he never asked me for money.

“How's life been treating you lately?" I ask in as nonchalant a way as I could.

"Things have been... good... I'm happy here for the first time since mom died and I had to leave. The landlady is nice to me, she lets me do jobs for her to earn my rent. Things are good."

"That's great! Listen, I have something that I want to show you outside," we head outside to the brand new car. It was a thing of beauty, jet black with a state of the art new horn that was loud as a trombone.

"This's for you, happy birthday champ," I stood there beaming holding out the keys and goggles for him. Edward stood there in a stunned silence for a few moments, his slow brain taking in the present he was receiving. I jingled the keys, hoping to snap him out of his stupor.

Suddenly Edward exploded, "Thanks! I love it! This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me!" Edward was on the verge of tears at this point.

I knew that he'd love it, even though he's stupid most of the time, Ed has always been very in tune with machines. I remember when he was just five, he was able to take apart a whole engine and put it back together. Mother and I were hopeful at the time that he would be able to put his talent to use, but he just couldn't stay focused, so we pretty much had to scrap that idea for him.

"Thanks thanks thanks! I have just the thing inside! Thanks!" Edward yells so quickly that he could barely be understood. He grabbed the keys with a wild look on his face and raced into his building, bumping into the postman at the front door.

"Damned retard." Bill said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Why would a retard like that get a brand new car, he'll just crash it anyway."

I've learned long ago that it's not worth it to try and defend Edward. He doesn't notice the effort and I usually just get yelled at or worse beaten. I remember once when we were little we got in a fight with a whole group of thugs because of him.

We couldn't afford proper schooling, so mom had managed to set up for us to work at the docks for Mr. James. Mr. James was the meanest taskmaster that I have ever met, he had us work for 10 hours a day doing deliveries of the smaller goods that came in all over town. Edward and I had just delivered a package to these thugs, but they discovered that the idiot had dropped it, and they said that it was damaged and that they wouldn't pay for it.

Of course, the package wasn't at all damaged, but I can still remember the way they talked to Edward. "You retard! You dropped this and smashed it all up, no way are we going to pay for this. Now you run along or we'll tell your boss what you've done and you'll be fired for sure."

"Oh... gee... I'm awful sorry misters... please don't tell Mr. James..." Edward mumbled defeatedly.

I was so angry at them. Edward may have been a -----, but no one should ever talk to a brother of mine like that. I tried to talk to Ed at first. "Hey Ed, don't let them win like that. You didn't break anything. Think of how mad James'll be if he finds out that you didn't get the money for this."

Edward just looked stupid and stammered, "But... but... I did drop it."

"That's not the point you fool, get the money anyway. Those guys shouldn't get it for free."

"But... but..."

I could see that the idiot wouldn't do anything and that I would have to act myself if I wanted to avoid the whipping that we would almost certainly get for not getting any payment.

"That's not broken, you still need to pay us." I said as clearly as I could. I was scared stiff; it was one thing for Edward to stand up to this bunch, all of them at least twenty, but it was another thing for the smarter one to put his neck on the line.

"Oh, it's not broken?" the leader of the group replied, with the rest of them snickering in the background. "Well in that case, we're just not going to pay you."

"That's not fair, you made a deal with Mr. James and he'll beat us if you don't pay up!"

"That's not my problem bub." He responded coldly

Suddenly Edward darted forward, hitting the man right in the chest. I grabbed Ed's hand and ran as if possessed all the way home. When we got there, all I could do was yell.

"You damned idiot, you could have gotten us killed back there! They were right, you are a retard." He has never thanked me for saving him, I'm not sure if he even remembers it. It just goes to show how dimwitted he is.

That was the last time I ever bothered sticking my neck out for Ed. It still to this day bothers me when other people call him names, but he just blocks it out so I figure that I shouldn't be too bothered by it either.

Ed reached his room and flung the door open. He began to dig around in the stacks of papers, rags and gears that he had saved over the years for some unfathomable reason. Eventually he pulled out what he had been looking for, an incredibly dull, rather old looking driving helmet. "Isn't it swell?" He asked beaming with obvious pride.

"Ya... that sure is, um, great" I responded, still disbelieving that anyone would be willing to put the thing on their head, let alone be seen around town wearing it. "Say, why don't I go get you a whole new package, gloves, goggles, a helmet, you know, the works."

"You'd do that for me?" I could tell that he was almost going to start crying at this point.

"Of course. Happy birthday Ed."

Edward broke down into tears, sitting on his rat-eaten sheets sobbing at the gift of pity that I was giving him.

 

 

I didn't go see Edward for the next few weeks after his birthday, but I tried my best to keep tabs on him and see if he was enjoying his present. Strangely enough however, I didn't hear a thing about him driving his new car around town. I heard from another man in his building, Mr. Davis, that he had been spending all his time tinkering with the car and that he had only actually been out driving once.

That's why I was surprised and a little embarrassed when Edward drove up to my apartment. His model-T may have been nice for his Oakland slum, where most people do not own cars, but it was an ugly abomination in Roger's Park. Around there, most people had their own chauffeurs and Rolls-Royces.

Ed stuck his head out the top, making him look even more disheveled than with the backdrop of swank apartments. At least I had bought him a nice helmet and goggle set so that he looked somewhat respectable. "Hey Tom! Come down, I wanna show ya what I did." I knew that Ed must be really excited because he wasn't stuttering at all. I went downstairs quickly to see what he wanted.

"Look... I reset the timing gaps and redid the steering column... it handles like... like... real nice." Edward beamed at me, obviously very proud of himself.

"Cool, wanna take me for a spin in it?"

"O... Ok... but you have to drive... so you can see... see how I changed it."

"Sure." Ed slides over into the passenger seat and I hop into the drivers side.

Ed wasn't lying, he had done a great job on the thing. It handled like a dream, better even than my car, which I had brought to a professional mechanic before. We went out around the park, over to the lake area.

"Ed, this is amazing. You should go interview with a mechanic or something, show them what you've managed to do with this thing."

Edward looked over at me, with a big ear to ear grin. "Thanks... I thought that I'd never get it done. It was the most focused I'd been on anything in my whole life to get it set just perfectly right... Do you really think... think that I could get a job... with a real mechanic?"

"If you can concentrate like that, I think you certainly could."

"Tom? Do you think that I'm a retard?"

"I really think that you have a shot at a mechanic job Ed, if you stick to it and concentrate like you can."

We kept were almost around the lake, the car reacting to our every turn. As we round a corner, I see another car broken down in the road. We're coming up to it very quickly so I swerve around it, towards the lake. I break hard, and hear something snap. The breaks stop responding, so I jerk the wheel around to get us back on course.

Unable to stop, we continue very quickly, careening into a tree. I guess Ed was a retard after all.

Short Story First Draft Sam Pardee

We didn't grow up rich. I think that I should start by mentioning that detail because in my recounting of this little piece of our family history, it will seem to the casual observer that I've always been rolling in the stuff. Some of my actions will seem inexplicable unless I first inform you that the money which I spent so freely came from a rather sound little railroad venture that I'd gotten into.

When I first heard about the idea of getting into the railroad business, it sounded like it would be too much for me. After looking into it, I found it suited me perfectly, I seemed to have a knack for the negotiations and had managed to make quite a large sum off of it.

It's understandable therefore, that when my idiot (and I use this term in the literal sense) brother's birthday came around, I rolled up to the house in a brand new 1929 model-T Ford. "Happy birthday bro!" I yelled as I rounded the corner to his house with my wife in the back.

Edward came running from what I saw now was where he lives. His house was really more of a shack than a house, and from what he had told me, he shared it with a lot of other people. The problem wasn't so much the house as it was the neighborhood; a run down place where everyone on the street looked like they'd mug you for a dime if you gave them a chance.

I suppose that thinking back on it now I shouldn't have been surprised that his house was pretty pathetic. I hadn't seen him in over four years now, but I'd heard from him in letters that he wasn't doing so well. He wasn't doing as poorly as others, although he hadn't told me the exact nature of his business so I assumed that he wasn't a full time employee anywhere. I was pleased that he was writing letters though, he was such a slow kid that he had never gone to school or learned to read and write.

I began to prepare the dinner for us, looking around at what Edward kept in his pantry. It was pretty disappointing, I was expecting at least some meat for us eat on his birthday, but all he had was broth and bread. I guess the depression was hard on him, but he never asked me for money.

"How's life been treating you lately?" I ask in as nonchalant a way as I could.

"Things have been... good... I'm happy here for the first time since mom died and I had to leave. The landlady is nice to me, she lets me do jobs for her to earn my rent. Things are good."

"That's great! Listen, I have something that I want to show you outside," we head outside to the brand new car. It was a thing of beauty, jet black with a state of the art new horn that was loud as a trombone.

"This's for you, happy birthday champ," I stood there beaming holding out the keys and goggles for him. Edward stood there in a stunned silence for a few moments, his slow brain taking in the present he was receiving. I jingled the keys, hoping to snap him out of his stupor.

Suddenly Edward exploded, "Thanks! I love it! This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me!" Edward was on the verge of tears at this point.

I knew that he'd love it, even though he's stupid most of the time, Ed has always been very in tune with machines. I remember when he was just five, he was able to take apart a whole engine and put it back together. Mother and I were hopeful at the time that he would be able to put his talent to use, but he just couldn't stay focused, so we pretty much had to scrap that idea for him.

"Thanks thanks thanks! I have just the thing inside! Thanks!" Edward yells so quickly that he could barely be understood. He grabbed the keys with a wild look on his face and raced into his building, bumping into the postman at the front door.

"Damned retard." Bill said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Why would a retard like that get a brand new car, he'll just crash it anyway."

I've learned long ago that it's not worth it to try and defend Edward. He doesn't notice the effort and I usually just get yelled at or worse beaten. I remember once when we were little we got in a fight with a whole group of thugs because of him.

We couldn't afford proper schooling, so mom had managed to set up for us to work at the docks for Mr. James. Mr. James was the meanest taskmaster that I have ever met, he had us work for 10 hours a day doing deliveries of the smaller goods that came in all over town. Edward and I had just delivered a package to these thugs, but they discovered that the idiot had dropped it, and they said that it was damaged and that they wouldn't pay for it.

Of course, the package wasn't at all damaged, but I can still remember the way they talked to Edward. "You retard! You dropped this and smashed it all up, no way are we going to pay for this. Now you run along or we'll tell your boss what you've done and you'll be fired for sure."

"Oh... gee... I'm awful sorry misters... please don't tell Mr. James..." Edward mumbled defeatedly.

I was so angry at them. Edward may have been a -----, but no one should ever talk to a brother of mine like that. I tried to talk to Ed at first. "Hey Ed, don't let them win like that. You didn't break anything. Think of how mad James'll be if he finds out that you didn't get the money for this."

Edward just looked stupid and stammered, "But... but... I did drop it."

"That's not the point you fool, get the money anyway. Those guys shouldn't get it for free."

"But... but..."

I could see that the idiot wouldn't do anything and that I would have to act myself if I wanted to avoid the whipping that we would almost certainly get for not getting any payment.

"That's not broken, you still need to pay us." I said as clearly as I could. I was scared stiff; it was one thing for Edward to stand up to this bunch, all of them at least twenty, but it was another thing for the smarter one to put his neck on the line.

"Oh, it's not broken?" the leader of the group replied, with the rest of them snickering in the background. "Well in that case, we're just not going to pay you."

"That's not fair, you made a deal with Mr. James and he'll beat us if you don't pay up!"

"That's not my problem bub." He responded coldly

Suddenly Edward darted forward, hitting the man right in the chest. I grabbed Ed's hand and ran as if possessed all the way home. When we got there, all I could do was yell.

"You damned idiot, you could have gotten us killed back there! They were right, you are a retard." He has never thanked me for saving him, I'm not sure if he even remembers it. It just goes to show how dimwitted he is.

That was the last time I ever bothered sticking my neck out for Ed. It still to this day bothers me when other people call him names, but he just blocks it out so I figure that I shouldn't be too bothered by it either.

Ed reached his room and flung the door open. He began to dig around in the stacks of papers, rags and gears that he had saved over the years for some unfathomable reason. Eventually he pulled out what he had been looking for, an incredibly dull, rather old looking driving helmet. "Isn't it swell?" He asked beaming with obvious pride.

"Ya... that sure is, um, great" I responded, still disbelieving that anyone would be willing to put the thing on their head, let alone be seen around town wearing it. "Say, why don't I go get you a whole new package, gloves, goggles, a helmet, you know, the works."

"You'd do that for me?" I could tell that he was almost going to start crying at this point.

"Of course. Happy birthday Ed."

Edward broke down into tears, sitting on his rat-eaten sheets sobbing at the gift of pity that I was giving him.

 

 

I didn't go see Edward for the next few weeks after his birthday, but I tried my best to keep tabs on him and see if he was enjoying his present. Strangely enough however, I didn't hear a thing about him driving his new car around town. I heard from another man in his building, Mr. Davis, that he had been spending all his time tinkering with the car and that he had only actually been out driving once.

That's why I was surprised and a little embarrassed when Edward drove up to my apartment. His model-T may have been nice for his Oakland slum, where most people do not own cars, but it was an ugly abomination in Roger's Park. Around there, most people had their own chauffeurs and Rolls-Royces.

Ed stuck his head out the top, making him look even more disheveled than with the backdrop of swank apartments. At least I had bought him a nice helmet and goggle set so that he looked somewhat respectable. "Hey Tom! Come down, I wanna show ya what I did." I knew that Ed must be really excited because he wasn't stuttering at all. I went downstairs quickly to see what he wanted.

"Look... I reset the timing gaps and redid the steering column... it handles like... like... real nice." Edward beamed at me, obviously very proud of himself.

"Cool, wanna take me for a spin in it?"

"O... Ok... but you have to drive... so you can see... see how I changed it."

"Sure." Ed slides over into the passenger seat and I hop into the drivers side.

Ed wasn't lying, he had done a great job on the thing. It handled like a dream, better even than my car, which I had brought to a professional mechanic before. We went out around the park, over to the lake area.

"Ed, this is amazing. You should go interview with a mechanic or something, show them what you've managed to do with this thing."

Edward looked over at me, with a big ear to ear grin. "Thanks... I thought that I'd never get it done. It was the most focused I'd been on anything in my whole life to get it set just perfectly right... Do you really think... think that I could get a job... with a real mechanic?"

"If you can concentrate like that, I think you certainly could."

"Tom? Do you think that I'm a retard?"

"I really think that you have a shot at a mechanic job Ed, if you stick to it and concentrate like you can."

We kept were almost around the lake, the car reacting to our every turn. As we round a corner, I see another car broken down in the road. We're coming up to it very quickly so I swerve around it, towards the lake. I break hard, and hear something snap. The breaks stop responding, so I jerk the wheel around to get us back on course.

Unable to stop, we continue very quickly, careening into a tree. I guess Ed was a retard after all.