Every day of my first week working at Len's, at about 5:25 PM, everybody along Big Basin Way (Saratoga's main drag) was "treated" to the un-muffled racket from the exhaust of a passing '55 Jaguar XK 140 coupe that apparently found it's destination a couple of blocks from the station, judging by the sudden quiet.
The car was driven by a not-unattractive young woman. (just my opinion)
On Friday, instead of blasting past Len's, she pulled into the station and stopped
under the canopy.
" 'Evenin' Ma'am, fill it with Premium? "
"Oh, no thanks, l have a problem with my brakes."
" l'm happy to check 'em out for you. If you'd like, there are chairs in the office.
You could wait there".
l followed her into the office and told Len what was up.
"Take it for a little spin and let me know what's happening"
l jump into the car and start it and wait for a hole in the passing line of cars.
Before l was able to move into the traffic, l heard a baby's voice say "Are you going to be my Daddy?" Honest to God. l had been so focused on the space to the car's left, trying to join the traffic on Big Basin, that l hadn't even looked to the right. When l did look right, sure enough, a little girl, not two years old is strapped into the right-side bucket seat. My first thought was that the lady driving the car was probably a baby-sitter. Surely, a mother would have taken
the baby inside with her. But, on second thought, l figured that she might be a regular customer who trusted Len and those that worked for him.
Like most people who grow up in loving homes, l always thought favorably about someday becoming a parent. But while Dulce and l were together, despite
the fact that we "invested" many hour over many weeks (months) trying to
propagate, our efforts were without good results. Since Dulce was very anxious to be a mother, and was making it as easy for my part to do it's thing, it was obvious that our failure was really my failure. When we broke up it was on the
phone. l was in Alaska, she was still at Mills College. We didn't talk on the phone often; l couldn,t afford that much long distance and Dulce didn't like to flaunt her family's wealth. But, on that day (about seven months since our most recent
time together) we had a very short visit: "Hello".
" Hi, Gid."
"Oh, Dulce, how you doin'?"
"Pretty good.....l'm......pregnant."
........."l guess that pretty much says it all, huh?
"Yes."
"l wish you had been able to say that a year ago".
"l really don't want to talk about it".
"Yeah, l don't either, bye, Dulce'.
l thought it interesting that the guy who accomplished Dulce's pregnancy, (with a child that was her first of two sons, was named Bob Wright.
So, at some point, and without much thought about it or any attempt to reverse
the situation, l pretty much accepted that if l was ever to be someone's dad, it
would be as a step-dad. But it wasn't a big deal. Some people, maybe myself,
even avoid being part of a couple and are no worse for it.
Given all that, one sees how it might be possible that l was "hearing things".
First, the baby was about twenty-or-so months old then and probably not able
to speak that phrase completely and correctly, (as it seemed). But then, my
imagination could make it perfect. What finally convinced me that l actually heard the child speak the whole question, as l heard it, was spending time with
the mother and child, soon after our initial meeting. lt turned out that the baby (named Reyann) was 21 months old, at the time and talked better than any
baby(toddler really) l ever knew. She was obviously the child of very literate
parent(s).
l drove the Jaguar around some back streets, on the brake, off the brake, in the straight-a-way and round the curves.Back up and brake, then ahead again. l
could find no problem with the brakes. When l returned to Len's l asked him to
double-check the brakes, just to be safe.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Start E12 P1 at "l apologize" on next lineXXXX...
l apologize for there being so much time between recent episodes. This time of year, there is much yard work to do. This year, the tractor has, so far, has
completed next to nothing in the way of cutting grass, despite the labor and other expense we've put into it. Also, we're working on making changes to our house which must be completed within the next very few months. My hope is that, when the yardwork is caught up, l will be able to write for two-or-so
hours a day. Thank you for your patience and thank you for reading Real
Gideon.
Dad picked me up at the bus station in San Jose. He was a bit torqued over the
two-hour wait, but he was very happy that l was safely out of a place that he thought could be very dangerous. ln fact, while l was at SNF there were just four inmate fatalities; two stabbings, one suicide (by hanging) and one attempt-
ing to go over a 16 foot fence, shot by a guard. Ofc. Hermans and Ofc. Knight
had a standing wager; if either of them was on duty at the time some inmate hit the fence and the guard on duty hit the inmate, he won a case of his favorite
beer, paid for by the other guard. Those two officers had originated their bet
(l'm told) a few years before. Both had won the case several times in the intervening years. After the one that took place during my time there, Knight
led Hermans 5 successful shots to 3. What a fun job,huh?
On the way to Gobbler's Knob, we stopped at Len's Richfield and confirmed that
l would start the following Monday, October 9th. My shift would be from 1pm to
9pm. So l would count the day's receipts, set up the register for the next day and put the balance of the receipts in the current hiding place for the opening shift to take to the bank. This job was not called "manager", but actually was
manager work. On the fourth day of the job, Len took me aside and told me that the check l would receive the next day (Friday) would reflect a 100% increase in my hourly pay, retroactive to my start day. He had started me at a lower hourly
rate in case l wasn't so good. But, he said, in the four days l'd worked,l was as good as anyone he'd ever employed. He especially liked how knowledgeable l
was and that the customers spoke well of me.
Dad and Teri and their son Gordon, as well as a few of their friends attended the
party celebrating my release. lt was great to spend that particular evening with
well-wishers, including some new friends.
Len's Richfield was the only service station l ever worked in that wasn't owned by my stepdad. lt was much busier than my step-dad's stations and also offered
more mechanical services. Len had many Commercial Vehicle Maintenance
contracts, including two U.S. Post Office contracts:Los Gatos and Saratoga.l
very much broadened my Auto Mechanical experience. And Len was just a truly great guy to work for. He was so smart. Particularly concerning his business and the knowledge he needed to do the mechanics involved. l learned a lot there and put it to good use there.My parole officer visited Len and l at the station in the first week of the job. He didn't think it a good idea to have me close the station and to be in charge of directing the proceeds to where they belonged.He
thought that the temptation would eventually overcome good intention. He all
but ordered Len to employ me from six or eight in the morning, to two or four in the afternoon, but Len stiffened his back and said "that won't work for me and the way l see it, my way makes more sense; first, even if he did decide to re-
claim his life of crime, don't you think he'd try a place where he was unknown
and not suspected, for starters? The P.O. put up a pretty good fight, but Len
finally convinced him to, at least, try it his way.
.
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