Andrea Millhouse

__________ 20 __________

A cawing rooster awakened us the next morning, something which I hadn't experienced since childhood at my Grandfather's orange farm in Phoenix. Lifting my head, I peered at my phone which read five thirty AM on the dot, sheesh, it's already Saturday... I set my head back onto the pillow and pulled Andrea closer to me, the rooster continued to caw outside the window and Pronto the kitty cat was gone, I noticed. I'm a guy that has never passed up a chance to sleep-in, especially when I have a beautiful woman to cuddle with, but for some reason this morning was different.

By six AM I could lie there no longer and got up. I went into Andrea's and my bathroom which was adjoined to our guest room and used the commode, I then slipped into the shower and let the hot water waken me as I thoroughly scrubbed myself. Toweling myself dry, I walked back into the bedroom and noticed that Andrea had yet to stir.

I stared down at her as I began to get dressed "You sure are a good lookin' thing aren't you?" I asked quietly, in awe of her.

Andrea had stated that she had modeled at one time during her twenties and thirties, apparently her photo had briefly been all over America in airports and on billboards for a national hotel chain at one time. She hadn't cared for all of the office politics associated with modeling though and had eventually walked away from the "fickle industry" as she had coined the profession. Andrea stated that she would drag out all of her modeling photos for me to see sometime. Now the Del Reeves song "Girl On The Billboard" suddenly came to my mind as I smiled and sat on the edge of the bed and began pulling on my boots.

Nostalgically I began singing quietly ..."Who is the girl wearing nothing but a smile and a towel, in the picture on the billboard, in the field near the near the big ol' highway?...Rolling down the highway in my Jimmy haulin' freight from Chicago to St. Louie, Lord, I see her every day..."

Standing up, I went over to Andrea and kissed her but she remained asleep. Walking into the living room then, I immediately smelled coffee and saw Hans as he sat alone at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and staring out the window.

"Morning, Hans" I said in greeting.

"Oh ...good morning, Tim, there's coffee on" Hans replied, looking up and nodding his head toward the kitchen.

"Don't mind if I do" I replied.

"That was some storm, last night" Hans said casually.

"I must have slept through it, Hans, I remember hearing thunder with some rain and wind on the window but then I went out like a light, I guess" I replied, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

"We were due for some rain here" Hans said, sipping his coffee.

"Andrea and I love sleeping with a storm outside" I replied, sitting down.

"NO, get down, kitty!" Hans said firmly as Pronto jumped up onto the table.

"What time did you get up this morning, Hans?" I asked as I reached over and brought Pronto to my chest and began petting her.

"Five, I always get up at five. I went down and let the horses into the corral for the day. Always have had a soft spot for horse flesh" Hans replied.

"I've never spent much time around them, Andrea loves horses and wants to have a ranch again" I replied.

"They're a lot of work but so's owning a truck. One of my first jobs, when I was a kid, was as a ferrier shoeing horses." Hans said, sipping his coffee.

"Did you work metal too?" I asked.

"To a small extent, nothing really, other than sizing horse shoes, it didn't take me long to figure out that it was a lot easier driving a truck than shoeing horses" Hans shrugged.

"My Grandfather apprenticed when he was twelve years old in a machine shop, machining steam engine parts when he was a kid growing up in Sweden. The shop where he worked built ship's engines, they made their own molds and even did their own casting too - they all did in those days. Grandfather learned to work with bronze, cast iron, copper and steel.

When he came to America he worked for Clessie Cummins for a short while before The Studebaker Corporation stole him away and eventually put him in charge of their metal stamping division - he retired there. Everyone knew everyone else, in those days. Grandfather specialized in tooling and even held a few minor tool and die patents of his own at one time." I said, as Hans stood and topped off my coffee cup and refilled his own.

"Les mentioned something to that affect, as I recall" Hans replied, sitting down again.

"I don't know what Grandfather's IQ had been but he was probably the smartest person that I've ever known, Hans. I'm not sure they could even measure his IQ today with the lack of common sense we seem to have lost somewhere along the way." I said.

"No probably not ...that little Andrea is smart though, Tim. How did you ever nail her down?" Hans asked.

"She pursued me, Hans ...I'm just going to run with it" I replied holding up my empty palm and shrugging.

"That is not, the same Andrea Millhouse you and I met at that first condo meeting, Tim. I don't know what's happened but she's a real lady now." Hans said.

"She's not afraid to take a good hard look at herself, Hans, and that's the difference between her and the average girl." I replied.

I continued to pet Pronto as Hans and I became silent for a few minutes.

"I knew a guy from Ukraine that had grown up melting metal taken from the German planes that had been shot down. That guy could cast and even stamp his own pots and pans and he could make kid's toys out of the scrap aluminum they picked up - he could make anything. His only downfall was his love of booze, it eventually killed him" Hans said, looking out the window and shaking his head.

"I guess a lot of people are that way, Hans. My mother used to have a quote that she would quip sometimes - 'The Irish would rule the world if the bottle hadn't gotten in the way." I replied as Pronto jumped down.

"They probably would, Tim" Hans nodded.

"If anyone would know, it was her ...she married an Irishman" I said, which made me think of my Aunt Colleen's text from the day before.

Hans and I suddenly fell silent again, each lost in our own thoughts. The house was amazingly quiet at present yet I knew that within an hour or so that it would be bustling with activity - a house with small children and pets always was. I picked up the small tin man which was still lying on the table from the previous night's Monopoly game and began to study the figurine as I sipped my coffee. This small piece was exactly like something Andrea would garnish at a garage sale, I thought smiling and remembering the joy on her face when she had first showed Hans and me the small iconic facsimile.

If this little guy could only talk, I thought nostalgically. His hands, shoes, face and funneled hat were all made from a hard grayish rubber; the rest of the figurine was made from actual tin which had been cold stamped. There were no inscriptions of any kind on him and I suspected that he had been crafted within a large factory in Chicago during the late nineteen forties or early fifties. He had probably been valued at somewhere between nineteen and twenty cents at the time and had most likely been a carnival prize or included inside a box of moderately expensive candy.

I speculated that he had been crafted from recycled tin cans and that there was probably still paint and parts of a logo for Delmonte green beans or Karo syrup inside him. I stood the little tin man beside the salt and pepper shakers. Looking at him now, he appeared to be standing guard over the two dispensers and eagerly waiting to assist his master whenever she mustered about, ready for breakfast.

"More coffee, Hans?" I asked, standing now.

"You bet, Tim, thanks. You asked, yesterday, if we had safety goggles, I don't think we do. The hardware store in Lake Havasu opens in about thirty minutes, want to drive down and grab a few pairs of goggles now before everyone else gets up?" Hans asked.

"Sure, I'll text our plans to Andrea and build a fresh pot of coffee for everyone" I replied, refilling our cups with the last of the pot.

After I had a fresh pot brewing I sat down to finish my cup of coffee. Hans was noticeably quiet this morning and I suddenly wondered if I was invading his space. A widower of forty some years now, I suspected that Hans felt lonely at times as anyone else would. He had a beautiful family which he loved and adored yet, similar to Mom, no significant other to share them with.

"Think I'll take in a few minutes of the morning air" I said, standing and taking my cup.

"K, I'll be out in a few, Tim, and we'll go" Hans replied quietly.

Leaving Hans to his own thoughts then, I walked outside and sat on the porch swing as Goldie came up to greet me. Petting the dog now, I began thinking of the day's work ahead with Owen's project. There was a lot to do but it would be good for me to get my hands busy with a good wholesome project for a few days. My phone abruptly pinged, alerting me of a text message. The text was in regard to a voice message which I had left the day before concerning Mom. "Wren Gleason was closer to Lovey than me. Can I give her your number and you talk with her instead? - Esther." ...

Rather a blunt text, I thought, looking at it.

"Yes please do Thank you: Tim Donovan" I replied, shrugging my shoulder - whatever, I thought.

Still with phone in hand, I then texted Andrea "Good morning Love, Hans and me are going to run into town for a minute. Sleep as late as you want, see you in a bit LOVE U! I included two animated kitty cats cuddling with the text and pushed 'send'.

I drained my coffee and continued petting Goldie as I looked out into the quiet Desert. Probably colder'n hell in Anchorage right now, I thought dismissively. My phone pinged with a text from Andrea "Ku2" she had replied. Translated, this text meant "I'm not awake yet, leave me alone."

"Well Goldie, I guess it's just you and me girl" I said encouraging the dog to climb onto my lap which she promptly did.

"Did you and Granddad tend to the horses this morning? I used to have a friend named Pepper that was a Golden Retriever; you would have really liked him, Goldie. He's in the Happy Hunting Ground now though" I said looking the dog in the eye and receiving a kiss on the cheek.

The dog was then still and seemed to be listening intently as she stared off into the distance. I put my arms around Goldie and held her close without saying anything further. A few minutes later Hans emerged from the house and the two of us got into Owen's old battered Chevy truck.

"I'm almost afraid to leave the keys in anything around here, Tim, Goldie just might decide to hop in and go for a joy ride when we're not looking" Hans said reaching over and petting the dog as she sat between us.

"I wouldn't put it past her, Hans" I said looking at the Golden Retriever. It was obvious that Goldie loved riding in vehicles.

We drove the fifteen or so miles to the hardware store in Lake Havasu, parked and got out. The store would not be open for another forty five minutes we discovered, so Hans and I walked across the street to a restaurant and went inside. Finding a booth by the window then, we proceeded to order coffee.

"Tell me more about the Ukraine guy you knew, Hans." I said sipping my coffee.

"Tim, I think you met him once, twenty five years ago. You came over to Les's shop looking for Cummins P.T. fuel pump parts and I think Viktor was there putting a pintle hook on one of Randy's belly dumps that day. Hans said.

"...You know, I think I do remember that, Hans, I remember walking past the yellow belly dump, which was parked in front of the shop and seeing a guy welding but I don't remember seeing his face. I don't think I ever saw him without his hood down, while he was welding. I do remember looking at his welds a few days later while Randy was still plumbing up that trailer. I remember thinking that you'd probably tear that trailer in half, before you'd break off the pintle hook. It was beautiful work." I replied.

"Yes, Viktor was a real craftsman. He built Randy a couple of tandem axle converter dollies then too and they were built just as strong as that pintle hook was." Hans said.

"Have you seen Dayton, at all?" I suddenly asked, thinking of the transmission in Andrea's car.

"I have not but he's floating around somewhere in Phoenix, I hear." Hans answered.

"If you see him could you get his number for me?" I asked.

"I think I have it in my phone" Hans replied, digging out his telephone.

Hans did not have Dayton's number but he said he knew someone that should, he'd let me know later in the week, he said. Hans and I continued to drink coffee and talk for half an hour whereupon we paid for our coffees and then proceeded back to the hardware store. The sun was warm now and I was ready to get started with Owen's build.

With Hans's approval, I quickly ran up a four hundred and thirty seven dollar bill. I bought welding rods, a welding hood, cutting stones, three boxes of high grade drill bits and several boxes of bolts with locking nuts and washers. I bought six pairs of safety goggles, a large square ruler, some inexpensive C-clamps and a three foot long level. I then topped everything off with a few cutting tips for the acetylene torch and some thick leather gloves. Without so much as flinching then, Hans swiped his card and signed his name. I secretly wondered if Hans would even mention the expense to Owen and Tamika.

"Need anything else while we're here in town, Tim?" Hans asked as we walked toward the truck.

"I'll meet you over across the street at that hobby shop" I said, dumping the box of stuff on to the seat, next to Goldie.

Climbing back into the cab a few minutes later, Hans asked "what did you get in there, Tim?"

"Kite string" I said holding up the spool.

"Oh, what will you use that for?" Hans asked.

"I'm old school and since we're building an old school hot rod, I'll use old school techniques. I'll use the string to help me align the frame rails when I lengthen the S-Ten chassis, Hans." I explained.

"Works for me and Goldie, Tim" Hans replied as he started the truck's engine.

The house was a mass of activity upon our return, Dean and Raven were also now present and everyone was busy within the kitchen. The smell of breakfast being made permeated the living room with its enticing aroma as Hans and I walked into the living room with Goldie. It was now eight thirty AM. Andrea, wearing an apron, was in the kitchen helping Raven, Owen and Tamika. Kathy was in the process of filling the water and food bowls for Pronto and Goldie, a task which she seemed to take very seriously.

Owen was soon escorted out of the kitchen by Tamika and instructed to make a fresh pot of coffee and sit down, which he promptly did. A few minutes later all of us lined up and began helping ourselves to scrambled eggs, orange juice, toast and bacon.

The breakfast table was loud and boisterous, so typical of a large family, as we all ate breakfast and discussed the truck project which I was excited about. Apparently the ladies had plans for a horseback ride later in the afternoon and stated that in the evening we would all go out to dinner at a local steak house.

Seating herself beside me with her food, Andrea leaned over for a kiss "Are you having fun?" she asked.

"Yes I am, Honey" I replied, smiling.

"I told Owen that I want to do a few minutes of filming before you get knee deep in the project, Tim. I want to film you with the old cars at the yard and take some footage of Owen's project before we start. I want to do a mosaic of the truck with Before and After footage" Andrea explained as we ate.

"Sure, that's fine, Honey" I replied.

"That old house and line-up of vintage vehicles is very picturesque with the Desert back-drop and I think it will make for some awesome cinematography" Andrea explained.

"I never really thought of it that way, Andrea, but I'll bet it will" I said.

"I want to get out there, at least once, - right at sunrise and film you with the cars and old house, too." Andrea stated.

"Sure, honey" I said, nodding my head.

I was glad that Andrea was having fun and felt comfortable with Owen's family. My ex-wife, Susan, would have viewed Hans and his entire family as unsophisticated boors most likely, and would have shown very little interest in anything we were now planning to engage in, including horseback riding. Sad in a way, really, I thought. In thinking of Susan, it seemed like a lifetime ago that I had been with her.

It also seemed a lifetime ago since I had sat in the condo meeting with Karen and been subjected to the bombardment of the abominable Andrea Millhouse for the first time. Looking at Andrea now as she ate her food and interacted with Han's family at the table, it suddenly occurred to me that neither Andrea nor I were the same people we had been a year ago when we had first been exposed to each other...

An hour later all of us loaded the dishwasher and after locking the house, climbed into the two vehicles. We then headed for the wrecking yard with the little white minivan travelling out in front again. The time was now nine forty five AM and I was ready to tear into Owen's project and begin work. During the past day's time, I had begun to prioritize my plan for the build into a chronological order of procedure.

I had not built a hotrod for close to twelve years now and was using a portion of my mind that I had not exercised for a considerable length time to any extent but I was confident that I would soon get into the rhythm once we began. I was excited about the project and had a few suggestions which I would make to Owen as the project progressed.

Upon our arrival and entrance into the old house, Andrea took my hand and led me directly to the rows of vintage cars outside in the yard. There they are, I thought in awe. Straight eight Buicks, Pontiacs, Packards, massive V-8 Cadillacs, Lincoln Zephyr V-12s, Fords, Studebakers, and Plymouths all lined up in neat rows and looking as if they now sat in quiet vigil of the past. Their split windshields and skeletal chrome grilles had an eerie look to them with the Desert's backdrop and the entire yard had an unmistakable mystique about it, almost as if it somehow had the aura of an ancient Indian burial ground and ordained with a Strong Medicine.

Looking at the cars now, I began to wonder who their owners may have been, many of which were surely gone by now and no longer walked among the earth. Each of the cars had at one time, been new and had undoubtedly carried pregnant mothers, young married couples, irritable children and young Servicemen to train stations...

The vintage machines all sported faded patina paint now, yet in their day these vehicles had transported people to daily mundane jobs and carried them along America's endless black ribbon during vacations and Holidays. Passionate love had been made inside some of the aging relics while parked along lonely country lanes and drive-in movie theaters, while some had carried people to funerals of those now long forgotten by the living.

I estimated that there were close to a thousand vehicles crammed together within the yard, small in comparison to some places which I'd visited but still impressive. The salvage yard would be hard to find, for anyone not knowing it was there which probably accounted for the pristine condition of the vehicles, many of which could be made to run and were still completely intact.

Most of these vehicles had been built before or during the time that Elvis and Hank Williams were topping the billboard charts. These cars had carried people through wind and snow, rain and shine, day and night, through good times and bad. They had travelled millions upon millions of miles, collectively, and been the pride and joy of their new owners ...all, to eventually wind up here where many of them had since been for the majority of their time on this earth.