Boot Straps

Harold Sr. was an old widow from The Midwest where a somewhat efficient public transport was only found in the city, which was a good half hour drive from where he had lived for these many years. Because of this inconvenience, he had become quite skilled with his hands and fixed endless vehicles to help himself and his fellow man. Harold Sr. was a kind man, a good man.

He loved life, his life in particular, but he had a few regrets when it came to his family. Although he was close with his youngest daughter and middle born son, he was not with his eldest son, Harold Jr. It seemed no matter how much Harold Sr. tried, he could never wrap his head around Jr.’s behavior. This of course resulted in a strain with him, his son's wife, and his son's children. Still, Harold Sr. was adamant on not giving up on his son.

While he thought on this, his home phone rang, making Harold Sr. spring to his feet; quite agile for a man in his early nineties.

"Dad? Can you hear me?" his daughter, Dawnie, hollered.

"Yes. Yes. How's it goin' hun?"

"You can?"

"Yes, Dawnie. I can. What's goin' on, sweetheart?" He pressed the receiver as close as he could to his ear.

"I just got off the phone with Minnie."

"You said what?" He rubbed his forehead in frustration. He never wanted to admit he needed hearing aids, believing that would confirm he was in fact an old man.

"Minnie."

"Harry’s kid?" he shouted into the receiver.

"Yeah," she said patiently.

"What about her? She okay?" He let himself fall into his fading recliner and he breathed out heavily. “You hear me?”

"Yeah.” Dawnie paused. “Uh, Dad? When, uh, when was the last time you talked to her?"

"Huh? What ya say, sweetheart?"

"When was the last time you talked to her?"

"Last time I talked to Minnie?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, goodness. I don't know. I try not to be a bother, ya know. A good couple weeks, I'd say."

"Well, Dad!" Dawnie huffed. "She thinks the same way as you. She tells me she doesn't want to be a bother!"

"She says that? Oh, that's nonsense. She's never a bother."

"That's what I told her!" Dawnie scoffed. “You two are just alike. Geez Louise.”

"Yeah, I guess. Well, hun, why would Minnie think that way? She think we don't love her or somethin’?"

"Well. Buckle in."

"What ya say, hun?"

"Minnie was in a car accident."

"Oh, no." He put his hand on his heart.

"She's fine!"

"Oh thank goodness. Thank goodness. Just when we have been reconnectin’." He shook his head side to side, thanking his creator for their protection.

"I know, right? How awful would that have been?"

"Oh goodness. What a relief. How is she doin'?"

"She's a little shook up. But she's fine. She walked away!"

"Oh good. Good, good."

"Her vehicle on the other hand…"

"Oh no. Totaled?"

"Totaled."

"Oh goodness."

"Her insurance won't pay out."

"Oh, no." He placed his hand back on his heart.

"Yeah. But,” she paused again.

“What? You there, hun? Did I lose you? This dern phone.”

“I’m here, Dad. I’m here. Didn't uh, didn't Harry mention to us the other day he was trying to sell one of his cars?"

"Huh? What you say, hun?"

"Didn't Harry mention to us the other day he was trying to sell one of his cars?"

"Yeah, you're right! You're right. It's older but if her insurance won't cover her, it's better that nuthin."

“Yeah, yeah. That's what I thought, too.”

“What?”

"Yeah, I called him and asked about that and he said he didn't have anything for sale. He acted like I was making stuff up.”

“He did?” Harold Sr.’s mouth fell. Dawnie didn't say anything, waiting for her father to gather himself. “I’m just going to call him and have a chat.” He heard Dawnie sigh out in relief.

"Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

"Sure! No biggie. I'll call him now."

"Good deal. Call me after and lemme know how it goes."

"Sure, sure. I will. Love ya sweet heart."

"Love ya, bye."

Dawnie hung up and Harold Sr. dialed Harold Jr.’s number. He silently prayed his son would answer. To his delight, Harold Jr. did on the fifth ring.

"Hello?" Harold Jr. answered in a sing-song voice.

"Harry? Hey, son. Can you hear me?"

"Yep. What's up, Dad?" Harold Jr. always gave the air of a nice, caring man.

"Son, your daughter was in a car accident. Her car is totalled." Harold Sr. said into his phone. He did not hear a reaction from Minnie’s father. Confused, Harold Sr. asked, "Did you hear me, son?"

"Who got in an accident, Dad?"

"Minnie. Minnie got in an accident."

"When?" his voice hardened.

"On Monday. Just a little after we saw each other that day." There was silence. "She's okay. Walked away. She just don't have a car. And Dawnie said Minnie told her that she is supposed to start college soon so she quit her job. It's gonna be hard for her to get a car "

"She's starting college? For what?"

"Airplanes. You know like what we used to do. Followin’ our footsteps. Wish she'd do somethin’ else honestly. Do bigger and better things."

"Well." Harold Jr. smacked his lips, his pleasant facade completely dissolved. "Why am I just now hearing about all this? Why doesn't she reach out to me?"

"We can deal with that later, son. Right now we need to get that girl a car so she can get to school."

"Girl? Minnie's in her thirties."

"She's still your girl, Harry. Now didn't you tell me on Monday you had a car you were gettin’ rid of?"

"I do."

"You want me to call Minnie and tell her she's got a ride?"

"No."

"What?" He dug his pinkie in his ear, squirmed it around, and withdrew it, only to see they were not clogged with wax. “What did you say, son?”

"I'm not giving her my car." Harold Jr. snorted.

"Then sell it to her cheap. Help her out."

"I'm going to sell it to someone else."

"Who?" he gawfed.

"I don't know. There's a possibility Sharie's best friend's daughter's boyfriend might need one "

"Say what?"

"Sharie's best friend's daughter's-"

"Oh, Harry. Who is more in need of that car of yours than your own flesh ‘n blood?"

"I'm doing her a favor."

"Huh?"

"Best thing I can do for her Dad is to teach her that 'you gotta be able to pick yourself up by your bootstraps'."

Harold Sr. felt a stab in his heart. He remembered telling all his children that same expression, however, he never meant it the way Harold Jr. had just used it. "You need to help your kid, Harry." Harold Sr. puffed out his chest and balled one of his hands in a fist. There was a brief silence.

"I've decided I'm not selling the car after all. I'm going to keep it as a spare."

"Harry…"

"She can take care of herself, Dad. Anyway, I'm leaving with Sharie in a couple minutes."

"Hey, Harold!" Sharie shouted.

"Son. Have I been on speaker this whole time?"

"Of course."

"Harry, This was a 'father-son' conversation-"

"We gotta go, Harold!" Sharie shouted again. "Talk to you soon!"

The phone call abruptly ended and Harold Sr. felt tears forming. 'No wonder Minnie is so reluctant to ask any of us for help,' he thought.

He stood up, walked to the kitchen, found his checkbook on the table, and confirmed that he did not have enough funds to get her a vehicle. He sat himself down, placing his head in his hands. “I know how to work on cars,” he told himself. “Don't matter I'm old now. I'll do my best to help her. Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.” He stood up, shoulders back, and walked back to his home phone. He nodded his head in resolve as he dialed for his other son.

“Hey, Dad," his son answered on the second ring. "What's up?”

“Hey, Jonny. We got work to do.”

“Alright,” Jonny responded without hesitation. “What do you need me to do?”

Harold smiled.