Chapter 26
Gerald rolled up to his unofficial parking space at 1:11 PM in his red 1976 Cadillac, a semi-restored Sedan de Ville. He stepped out with some papers in his hand.
Dale had heard the car pulling in and opened the front door for Gerald. “How are you feeling today, boss?” he ventured.
“Oh, not too bad for being ancient history,” Gerald answered.
“Oh, you still get around pretty good, boss. I hope I can still move around as well as you when I’m your age.”
“I don’t know, Dale; sometimes I feel like one of those Florida scooters is in my imminent future.”
“Florida scooter?” Dale looked perplexed.
“A motorized wheelchair.”
Gerald walked in, put the papers down on his desk, and sat back in his chair. He looked at his desk calendar. Then he turned to Dale. “Anything happen this morning?”
“That David guy came by earlier. I think it was just before nine o’clock. He said that he would like to buy that white 2011 Ford Focus for twelve hundred bucks.”
“Oh, yes, I spoke with him on the phone earlier this week.” He started to rub his right ear.
“Mosquito bite?” Dale asked.
“Not sure. Just dead skin, I guess. As for his offer … well, as you know, I like to at least double the price of what we paid when selling whole vehicles.” Gerald looked like he was a school teacher.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, boss.” Dale tried to look like the eager-to-learn student. Just act like it’s another day.
“Well, for twelve hundred, it’s his. He can have it. That’s almost triple what we paid for it. The damn car was underwater for Christ sakes. I wonder why he’s offering so much. Any ideas?” Ok, it’s now time to paint David as a techie-turned-dope-fiend flip-out.
“Boss, he seemed high on something. He was twitching and acting strange. His head kept twisting around. He acted like a paranoid cokehead. Maybe he’s loaded with drug money. He seemed pretty slick. I think he said that he works in the RTP. He’s one of those techies. Maybe money is not an issue with him. Maybe he’s just some weird Ford Focus freak.”
“A Ford Focus freak from the Research Triangle Park? Now, I’ve heard of everything!”
“Maybe it’s the hipster car for his group.”
“Hipster? Wow, I haven’t heard that word in a few decades,” Gerald retorted. “Keep going.”
“He’s an odd duck, boss. Trust me.”
“Well, if his money isn’t odd – as in not counterfeit – I’ll consider it a done deal. Does he want me to call him? Or, is he coming back?”
“I think he said that he would just come back here at two o’clock to talk with you and hammer out the deal. Yeah, that’s it; he’ll be back at two. I now recall him telling me.”
“Ok, good enough, Dale. Thanks for covering for me this morning. Any plans for the weekend. Got a hot date?”
“No, no hot date, boss. Nothing too wild. Just chill out, I guess.”
“Well, have a nice weekend. See you on Monday morning.”
“You, too. Thanks, boss.”
As Dale exited from the porch, he glanced towards the wrecked Ford Focus. Things will get interesting very soon. Very interesting.