Connecting Rod Ch. 05-06

"I think you've got something up your sleeve, Mr. Burgmann," I replied.

"Perhaps."

I wondered what Jurgen had in mind. Something was going on in that clever head of his, but I hadn't figured it out yet. That something showed up just before closing on Monday.

A customized, shiny black '50 Ford Coupe rumbled to a stop alongside the building and a tough-looking young man emerged. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a turned-up collar covering a white t-shirt. A tight-fitting pair of jeans with the cuffs rolled up over a pair of polished black boots finished the outfit. As he walked toward the office, I noticed the black, slicked-back hair, sideburns ala Elvis, and an unfiltered cigarette tucked above his right ear. He looked for all the world like one of the "hard rocks" that I remembered from my high school days. Things hadn't changed that much after all.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"You Rod Williams?" the young guy asked, his head cocked at an angle.

"That's me."

"I hear you're looking for help."

"Maybe. Are you looking for work?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?" I asked, feeling a bit irritated with the abrupt stranger.

"Whadda you pay?"

"Qualified mechanics get six bucks an hour to start. My top guy earns seven-fifty."

"I don't have any papers," he said without hesitation.

"How do I know you can do the work?" I asked. I was beginning to lose my patience.

The young man pointed over his shoulder at the shiny black Ford. "I built that. By myself."

"Let's have a look." I was mildly interested.

"What's your name?"

"Brian Davies. Most people call me Duke."

"How'd you find out about the job? It won't be in the paper 'til tomorrow."

"Mike told me," he said, reaching into the car and pulling a hood release.

"Mike Numminen?"

"Yeah. Said you were a good guy. Ran a good shop. Paid fair wages."

Rod nodded and looked inside as the hood was raised. It was flawlessly clean with a little chrome, and a lot of new paint.

"Flathead," I observed. "Original engine?"

"Mostly. I found some Edelbrock heads on a wreck and cleaned 'em up. Headers are mine. Tranny's rebuilt with a Hurst shifter. Bodywork's mine. Paint isn't."

He was a man of few words. I looked at the car carefully. It had been thoroughly rebuilt with bigger brakes, heavier springs and all new wiring.

"How long did it take you?"

"Two years ... off and on."

"How do you know Mike?"

"We're in shop class together. He's my muscle and brains." The guy actually smiled when he said that.

"You look a bit older than high school age."

"I'm twenty-one. I dropped out for a while. Dumb idea. Talked them into lettin' me back in to finish. I'm done in June."

"It must have been your gift of gab."

Duke snorted. "Yeah ... somethin' like that."

"What do you want to do when you graduate?"

"I like what you do, but I just want a shop. I don't want to be a pump jockey."

"Well, I do need someone. You know what I pay. I can try you out and see if you can fit in. But you're still in school. You won't be able to work during the week when we're open. I need somebody now."

"Thought about that. I'm not in school fulltime. What if I work at night? Sundays? Nobody here to bother me and I can get more done."

"Let's try a couple of Friday nights and Saturdays to start. I won't kid you. I've got an ad in the paper tomorrow for a mechanic. I can't afford to hire two."

"Fair enough. I'll prove myself first and then we can talk turkey."

"See you Friday at five," I said.

Duke stuck out his hand silently and we shook. I had the strangest feeling about Brian "Duke" Davies. I wasn't sure what that feeling was, but maybe Mike could tell me more. There was no denying the workmanship on his car. It was beyond professional. There was a neatness and simplicity in the design of the engine bay that was impressive.

After supper, I picked up the phone and dialed the Numminen home, asking for Mike.

"Hi Mike. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"No ... just finishing up some homework. What can I do for you, Mr. Williams?"

"Do you know Brian Davies?"

"Sure. Duke and I are in shop together. Did he come down to see you about that job?"

"Yeah. Trouble is though, he's still in school and I need someone almost full time."

"I know. But he's really good, Mr. Williams. There isn't anything he hasn't tried or learned. If you can find a way to hire him, he'll be a big help, I'm sure."

"I'm going to give him a try, Mike. But it still doesn't solve my problem with him not being available during the weekdays."

"Actually, he's not in school full time. He's only here about three days total. Most of his classes are in the morning. He's just trying to make some money to live on."

"Where'd he get the money to build the car?"

"His dad died and left him some money through insurance. His mom can't work any more, so he's trying to keep things together by himself. He's a real hard worker, Mr. Williams. I know he looks a bit rough, but I know how hard he works on everything he does. That includes school."

"OK, Mike. I'll see you Friday and you can show Brian the 'ropes.' If he's as good as you say, we'll see what we can work out."

"Thanks, Mr. Williams. I'm sure he'll do well. I know he'll try hard. See you Friday," Mike signed off.

Mike was right. Duke did work hard and didn't have to be shown anything twice. Jurgen assigned him some fairly straightforward work and it was done quickly and properly. Shelly went over the paperwork with him for calculating the costs of each job and logging the time.

By the end of Saturday, I was reasonably sure Brian could do the work required despite his lack of accreditation. More importantly, both Shelly and Jurgen had given their vote of approval. There was one other bonus. Brian had brought his own tools to the shop. All three of us were impressed with the organization and neatness of his toolbox, despite the age of the equipment. It was clean, in good condition, and complete.

Late Saturday afternoon, I called Duke into my office.

"Well, Brian. It looks like you know what you're doing. It still gives me the challenge of trying to find enough hours for you that will give my people a break. They've been going solid since September."

"I hear you don't exactly sit back and watch," he smiled.

"No ... I help out when I can. Just the same, everyone needs some time for themselves. What can you do to help?" I asked.

"I've been thinking. I need to study, but I can do that in the afternoons or at night. Most of my classes are in the mornings. I could work afternoons and you could give Shelly and Mr. Burgmann the afternoon off. Or, I could work at night when the shop is closed. Either way, the work gets done," he said.

I was a bit surprised at his politeness toward Jurgen. His idea was worth talking to Shelly and Jurgen about. It had to work for them too.

"Can you be at my house tomorrow afternoon ... say two o'clock?"

"Yeah ... I can be there."

"I think the best thing is to talk it over with Shelly and Mr. Burgmann and see what works for them. I want you there so we can discuss it openly ... OK?"

"Sure. I'll be there. Two o'clock," he nodded.

Promptly at two, Sunday afternoon, Brian "Duke" Davies rang the door bell. We met in the living room after I introduced Duke to my mother. The meeting lasted over an hour, but when it was done, we had a workable schedule that allowed Duke to continue his studies and give Jurgen and Shelly some additional time off. Mother had endorsed the strategy.

The plan was simple enough. Brian would work afternoons from twelve-thirty to closing, plus Saturday. That would give him thirty-five hours of work, almost a full week. Jurgen and Shelly would take two days off, alternating Monday to Thursday. They would only work to five-thirty on Friday. That would mean a full staff Friday and Saturday, our busiest days. Taking time off for breaks, it would be a thirty-eight hour work week with three full days off. It would be a trial, and after a month we would all meet again to assess how it was going.

My hours were never discussed. I wanted to see how this would work out first before worrying about myself. After all, this was our business; mine and my mother's.

The risk of taking Duke Davies on turned out to be no risk at all. In the first place, the business continued to grow and we needed his hours and more. Secondly, he was, as Mike had promised, a hard worker. Not very talkative and not the best with customers, but he got the work done and done well.

By the end of April, Mom and I sat down and went over the books.

"We're way ahead of where I thought we would be. Our income is much greater than I expected and we are making good money, Rod. Sure beats the cattle business," she laughed.

"Good to hear it, Mom. I forgot to tell you, I got a letter from the Andersons, the people that own this house. They plan to stay in Juneau, so they want to sell the house. I'm thinking we should buy it. What do you think?"

"Yes. It's a great house and I think of it as our home. I'd sure hate to lose it."

"Good. I'll get our agent to talk to them about what they are asking. We haven't had to use much of the money from the ranch since we bought the station, so we should have enough for a big down payment."

"Before you do that, talk to Stumpy. He said something about debt leveraging or something to me onetime and it may be in our favor."

I called our friendly tax and financial advisor the next day and set up a meeting with him. Mother was right. It was in our best interest to mortgage the house near the maximum and write off the monthly payments against our personal income, especially since the business was now very profitable.

-0-

I was sitting on the front porch with Mom one warm evening in May. We had been reminiscing about the W2. I was pleased that my mother didn't have any regrets about moving west. She was happy and alive again. She still missed Dad, but those were all good memories and didn't cause her pain any longer.

"Rod, when are you going to do something about Shelly?" she asked out of the blue.

"Do something?"

"You know very well what I mean. I've seen you two together. I know how she feels about you," she said with a raised eyebrow. "How do you feel about her?"

I sat, examining my thoughts. "I guess the truth is ... I'm in love with her," I admitted.

"I've known that for some time, son," she said seriously. "I've watched you two dance around each other since the New Year's party. When are you going to get up the courage to tell her?"

"You think she feels that way about me?"

"I think you're a typical man. You can't see the most obvious things when it comes to women. She doesn't know there's anyone else but you. Besides, I know you two have been together enough that you should be able to tell by now. I'm not deaf, you know," she concluded with a smirk.

"Have we been that obvious?" I asked, surprised.

"Oh, come on, Roddy. This house isn't that big. You're goin' to be thirty this year. It's time you were thinkin' about gettin' married and havin' a family. She's not goin' to wait forever."

"Tell you what, Mom. Why don't you run upstairs and check and see if she wants to marry me," I laughed.

"Don't be foolish. You want that girl and you know it. Hell, everyone around here knows it. You just have to get off your skinny butt and tell her," she snapped.

I looked at my mother. She wasn't going to let go of this. The truth was, I was thinking about Shelly too. It had begun on that New Year's Day and came to a head a few days later when she slipped into my room in the dead of night.

I had been sound asleep and at first, thought I was having a dream. A very vivid dream. This dream came with a scent and the soft, warm body of a woman. I lingered in that half-aware state until my conscious mind took over. I was not alone and it was not a dream.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"I couldn't sleep. I wanted someone to hold me. I wanted you to hold me," she said softly.

I craned my neck in a futile attempt to read my alarm clock.

"It's the middle of the night."

"Do you want me to go?"

I didn't answer immediately. Almost instinctively I reached for her, and as she responded, I pulled her close to me. As the almost imperceptible light of a street lamp leaked through the curtains, I caught a glimpse of its reflection in her sparkling eyes. I moved my head toward her and kissed her gently. Shelly moaned and I felt the tension in her body dissolve.

"No ... stay ... please."

My hand roamed her back and then slid under her t-shirt nightgown, caressing her soft skin. My fingers traced a path from shoulder to her panty-covered backside, moving slowly, sensuously, caressing her with gentle squeezes. Shelly rolled onto her back, taking my hand and moving it to her breasts. I continued to caress her, concentrating on her soft, full breasts, now and then gently tugging at her enlarged nipples.

Shelly reached into my shorts, searching for my erection. She found it easily. Folding her hand around its swollen hardness, she began to stroke me carefully with a light touch.

"You better be careful, you might cause an explosion," I warned.

"It's OK. I don't mind. I just want to make you happy."

"Happy isn't the word for it." I was silent for a while until, "Shelly?"

"Uhmmm."

"I want to make love to you," I gasped. Her hand was driving me to the brink.

"I want you to. I want that very much. That's why I'm here," she said quietly, moving to kiss me, almost rolling on top of me.

"I have to get something first," I said as I extricated myself from her grasp and moved to the dresser.

I pulled the top drawer open and began searching blindly. Shortly I closed the drawer and returned to bed.

"I have some rubbers. I don't want you to have an accident."

I couldn't see her smile, but I heard her tinkling laugh.

"I'm going to get my wish," she said, a smile evident in her voice. She sat up in the bed, peeled off her t-shirt and then her panties. She waited patiently as I removed my boxers and rolled on the latex sheath.

Shelly was just as impatient as I was. She needed no foreplay. She was ready for me and rolled over on top of me, grasping my erection once again. I lay back on the pillow, surprised, but allowing her to take charge. My hands again found her breasts in the darkness, and I resumed kneading and teasing them. Soon, I felt her slowly sink onto my rigid cock and heard her exhale as she took me in completely.

She sat motionless for a few moments, apparently adjusting to her capture of me. I could not see her face, but if I had, I guessed it would have been a picture of contentment. Her sighs were my clue. My hands dropped to her hips as I began to move, slowly, in small strokes. I felt her hands move to my shoulders and then felt her slowly lower her body onto me.

I rolled her onto her back, remaining inside her. Shelly raised her knees, opening herself completely to me. I lowered my head to her and kissed her, my tongue welcomed by her. I began to lengthen my stroke, moving more forcefully, and I could now feel the arousal in her. It was something strange and new to both of us.

"Oh god, Rod. This was what I've been waiting for. This is something I have never shared with anyone ... until now."

I was drifting ... drifting on some erotic cloud ... like a drug-induced high. Now I knew as well. Now I understood. She was making my dreams real. I could feel her tears and yet, I didn't care. There was no sorrow in this dream ... only pleasure.

I had no conscious recollection of how long we were joined, or how long I floated in that state of euphoria. It didn't matter. It mattered that only that she was with me. It mattered only that I was deep inside her. Not just physically, but emotionally. Shelly erupted in climax and I wondered if anyone had heard her cry of release.

Would she have regrets sneaking into my room last night? It was a risk, but one she dared to take. Now, in the dim light of dawn, I lay beside her, watching as she slept, my arm draped over her hips as her chest rose and fell slowly with her even breathing. Would she have second thoughts when she awoke? I hoped not. It had been such a perfect experience.

I saw her eyelids flutter, knowing she was beginning to awaken. I was holding my breath in anticipation of her discovery of still being in my bed. Our lovemaking had been long and powerful. When it had ended, three condoms and their wrappers littered the wastebasket beside my night table.

She had happily used her oral skills to revive me twice. I was surprised, pleased that she felt no embarrassment. She was prepared to do anything to please me, she said. Anything!

I watched silently, holding still as her eyes opened, then closed again, then opened. She saw me, slowly turned toward me, and smiled.

I pulled her gently toward me. Shelly happily snuggled closely to me, pulling me tightly to her still naked body.

"Good morning," I said softly.

"Morning," she smiled.

We lay in each other's arms for several minutes, just holding, touching and kissing. I couldn't get over the feeling of relief and happiness that washed over me. We had taken that first step and it had been incredible. I hoped Shelly felt the same, and from her reaction, that seemed to be so.

"I'm not going to be very much use today," I grinned. "We didn't get much sleep last night."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Better than fine. Last night was wonderful. I can't tell you how good I feel."

"Well, before we celebrate, maybe we should figure out a way to get you out of here before we are discovered."

"I don't care. I don't care who knows. Nothing can ruin my day," she said, snuggling into me even further.

She was right. Nothing could take away the happiness and satisfaction of our first lovemaking. I really didn't care who knew. If we were discovered, so be it.

We weren't discovered. We were up before both Mom and Jurgen and Shelly quietly slipped into the bathroom unnoticed. I lay back on the pillows, my hands behind my head, lost in thought. So much had happened in such a short time. Shelly was just what I wanted. A woman that I could love and care for. Love! That word popped up almost by surprise. Was this love? Time would tell.

As the days went by, I kept expecting Shelly to slip into my room again, but after almost a week, nothing had happened. I decided to take the bull by the horns. I caught her alone at lunch on Friday and sat down beside her.

"I've missed you the last few nights. I haven't been sleeping as well."

"Oh ... and I thought you were the one worried about who might discover us," she laughed. "So ... you miss me?"

"You know I do. You can't just climb into my bed and then pretend nothing happened."

She leaned against me with a big smile and a chuckle. "So, I'm invited again?"

"You don't need an invitation. You can come anytime you want to."

"You better watch out, Roddy. I'm pretty aggressive when I'm aroused."

"Well ... how about this. You come any night you want to until I tell you I need a night off ... OK?"

She laughed. "That's a pretty open invitation, Mr. Williams. I might take you up on it."

"I told you, you didn't need an invitation. You didn't have one that night."

"I know. It's just ... uhmmm ... my time of the month."

"Oh ... I'm sorry. I should have guessed."

"That's OK. You won't have to wait long," she smiled.

True to her word, she slipped quietly into my room and my bed the next night. I was awake, hoping she would appear. I made her welcome in a warm embrace.

"I've missed you. You don't know how much I've wanted to make love to you again. That first time was magic. I still remember everything we did ... you did."