I towed Clara to a mechanic. She needed an examination. The diagnoses was not good, but certain. She has heart trouble. She’s pretty much unusable. I asked my mechanic for advice.
“What should I do with her?”
“Sell her.”
“What do you think I can get for her?”
“Five hundred.”
Poor Clara. She’s practically worthless. I towed her back home. Skip, the tow truck driver and I were unloading her when my neighbor the avocado tree killer came home.
“Did you take her to a mechanic?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“What did he say?"
“He told me to sell her for five hundred dollars.”
"Oh, Anthony you can’t do that!”
She leaned into my chest and broke into tears.
“You love her,” she said while crying like a baby.
“Oh, it’s going to be okay,” I said with my arm around her. “She’s just no good.”
My neighbor was crying pretty hard, which was strange. Her husband was looking on, which made things even stranger.
“Promise me you won't sell her,” she said.
“Maybe my brother will buy her,” I said.
“Keep her in the family. You love her.”
The lady wouldn’t stop crying. It made me feel funny. I was still sore at her for hacking down the avocado tree, and there I was with my arms wrapped around her consoling her about my Mercedes Benz. I had conflicting emotions. I felt ugly, but I was trying to be nice in her tragedy, the death of Clara.
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