Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Two: Drew and her Tiger / Winnie the Pooh and his Escalade

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As per use, when Callie and Iola heard about their impending trip to Hawaii, they, first, screamed their heads off, and then, second, arranged a sleepover that night to start planning for it. Drew sighed - yet another sleepover.

First things first, though – Drew looked up FreshDirect on the internet and placed an order for groceries using her debit card. Because they were still piloting same-day delivery, Drew was lucky because they specified a two-hour delivery time. That was great - that would give her time to do her usual morning thing. She also saved her order so she could easily re-order everything she got every week, to be delivered every Saturday afternoon, so that Aunt Arlene would be around to receive the delivery.

Next thing was to place a call to Otto’s and confirm their schedule to check out the Nance’s new lawn ornament, also known as “Phil Cohen’s Trashed Escalade,” and tow it to their garage if needed.

Drew had won Phil’s car in an epic car race (well, epic for Saint George, Staten Island, that is). Of course, it was all for naught because the doofus didn’t know how to work a Nitrous Oxide injector because all he knew was what he saw in The Fast and The Furious (apparently he saw all eight of the movies and thought he was now an expert). Phil overheated the Escalade's engine and blew the radiator: it wasn’t running anymore. Without Ned Nickerson’s help, they wouldn’t even have been able to have it towed to their place. Presently, it was parked on the street outside their house like a big, dead cow leaking engine oil and other fluids, or like a really expensive lawn ornament.

A couple of days ago, Phil called her and tried his best to buy back his car. Drew openly wondered why he’d want to buy it back when the engine was kaput, but Phil said that he didn’t think the damage was that bad.

“She just overheated, after all,” he said. “I just over-revved or something.”

“Oookaaay,” Drew said. Over-revved? Really? She had enough of a background with cars that she knew it wasn’t just a case of overheating. NOS kits aren’t all that difficult to find, and a lot of hobbyists knew how to connect them, but if not done professionally, and if the driver didn’t know how to work it...

Phil was desperate to get it back, especially since his dad didn’t know anything about it, and he would prefer it stayed that way. He even made a lame attempt to convince her that her claim on his Escalade was illegal. But Carson had drilled her with a lot of legalese just in case. So, peppered with a lot of hard-to-pronounce legal terms, he just meekly hung up. Later, Drew asked her dad if it really was illegal, and Carson said it was. But, he said, what Phil didn’t know and all that...

Carson actually blew his top when Drew told him about the race (she had no choice but let him know, after all – otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to explain the Escalade she had towed and parked outside), and he went on and on about how dangerous and illegal it was. But his heart really wasn’t in it. Secretly, he was proud that Drew won her little race. Actually, he wished that he and his brother could have done the same kind of thing when they were in high school.

- - - - -

Carson suspected that, when Drew “found” their house on the net, it wasn’t exactly by happenstance. Staten Island was the borough in New York that was the most “auto-centric,” and the one place in New York where Drew could indulge her car obsession. This wasn’t surprising – he remembered Andy’s old souped-up Pontiac Sunfire when Drew was still Andy, and how much Andy loved driving around in it. So it wasn’t surprising that Drew got herself another dragster, and got them to live in the only place where she could use it regularly and show it off. Carson even researched it – over eighty percent of the island residents had cars, and the majority used them instead of using public transportation, despite the less-than-ideal roads. What he didn’t expect was for her to pick a rinky-dink car like an Opel Twin-Top to soup up.

Initially, he had misgivings about selecting Staten Island as their new home, given its spotty déclassé reputation, but in the end, even if most of the residents were working-class people with a... less than refined demeanor and dress sense, he agreed because his research also said it was the city’s safest borough to live in, the most residential in its ambiance, and the greenest, with over nine thousand acres of parkland. And, besides, he now loved their neighborhood, and he loved it more for his déclassé neighbors, who were friendly, very inclusive and very down-to-earth. And they say what they mean, and mean what they say.

Besides, he was sure that their upper-middleclass style and sensibilities (he laughed at this self-description of his) would make them immune to any social or fashion faux pas. And, so far, he has been proven right. With Drew’s social and dress sense, which she “borrowed” from Jane, coupled with her own innate irreproachable character, he couldn’t have been more proud. And, for him, although he still had some work to work to do on his rep with his neighbors and at the office, he seemed to be doing okay as well.

In the back of his mind, Carson knew that this racing thing of hers was inevitable. He should have anticipated something like this. So, in the end, he just forbade her from doing it again. And then eagerly asked for details.

Drew giggled at that and told him everything, although she edited a couple of things out (like her being in a race car driver costume). She even showed him the pictures that one of the Freshmen took for Callie. Of course, her pictures were all from behind the wheel (she had carefully hidden those where her entire outfit was on display), but there were pictures of Callie and Iola in their Starter Girl outfits.

Carson was amazed at Drew’s level of knowledge with cars, and excitedly went through Tiger’s innards (She explained that “Tiger” was her pet name for her Opel Twin-top). Drew explained all the modifications and Carson was amazed. Drew showed the overpowered Mercedes engine and the limiter switch under the dash that stopped Tiger going over 120MPH (the top limit of the stock Tigra Twin-Top), and Carson marveled at the level of workmanship. He knew Drew spent a lot of his money on her little car, but he never knew where it went. Now he did, and he was impressed.

Drew laughed as his dad sat in the driver’s seat and made vroom-vroom sounds. He wanted to put on Drew’s helmet but it wouldn’t fit. He also inspected the racecar tires and rims that Drew had already taken off, looked inside the engine bay as well as took a peek underneath the chassis.

He insisted that they should go to that racetrack oval she told him about sometime – he wanted to test-drive Tiger.

Giggling, she agreed and said maybe they can do it on one of their Sundays - they could go out racing instead of playing putt-putt golf.

“No mini-golf?” Carson asked. “Nooo!”

- - - - -

Phil said he could come by around four today, and Drew agreed. By that time, Otto would have had a chance to check out the Escalade and say how much it would take to salvage it. With that info, Drew would know better how to haggle with Phil.

At around eleven, Drew had finished with her usual morning routine and dressed in a pair of cami-length tights, a close-fitting, stretchy, spaghetti-strap camisole and a pair of canvass shoes.

The top was a stretchy, light little rayon-spandex camisole with adjustable spaghetti straps and a lace-accented neckline. It had a built-in bra with an elastic band, which Drew liked. It was perfect for the warm weather, and perfect for lounging around the house. She also wore her usual gaff in place of underwear – an almost automatic thing for her nowadays.

When she got to the kitchen, she took her vitamins with the funny Swedish name - “Sats Sju” (Sally said that it was pronounced “sats hoo”), and started putting away the groceries that were delivered via FreshDirect. She'd been meaning to translate the name "Sats Sju" using Google, but she kept on forgetting. It wasn't important, thought, so she let it go.

It wasn’t too unusual that her dad was totally clueless about internet-based door-to-door delivery – he hasn’t had to take care of household matters until Maria died. But Drew knew enough to have their groceries delivered via FreshDirect. It was obviously more expensive to buy online, but the convenience of buying stuff from a website and having them delivered more than made up for it. Carson would kick himself for not thinking of it himself when Drew told him about it later.

Drew also made arrangements with the utility companies for her to pay their bills via her debit card, so that meant she can just do her payments via their secure sites (She used her debit account instead of her real bank account to protect her from all the internet fraud stuff she'd read happening lately. She'd just top it up with Dad's check every month.). She had to giggle because, as good as Carson was, he routinely made these kinds of oversights, especially when it involved the Internet. He knew the technology, at least as good as she did. It’s just that he rarely knew how to apply it, especially to himself and his own needs. But he did have his assistant Alice. Drew was confident Alice would keep him straight until he got better with things.

In the meantime, Drew would manage. She chuckled since she got him to give him an extra five hundred a month – the exact amount of her old allowance, all for posting a couple of things on the net, which didn’t take more than fifteen minutes (she knew her allowance was pretty big to most kids, so she just didn't tell Iola and the others).

She nuked a little bowl of tomato soup and put together a sardine sandwich for lunch, and surfed the net until Callie’s Aunt Arlene arrived for her regular thrice-a-week cleaning.

As usual, Drew got tongue-tied when Aunt Arlene arrived. Callie and her Aunt Arlene looked enough like each other to be like sisters. And since Callie was a very good-looking girl...

Before she started cleaning, Aunt Arlene said that she and Callie talked about the trip to Hawaii, but Drew interrupted her, saying not to make a decision whether or not she's giving her permission yet until the details were solid. Aunt Arlene sighed and agreed. She then started cleaning the house, as per use. She also knew about the sleepover later, and told Drew Callie would be by at around six.

Drew nodded and the doorbell interrupted them. Otto and his people had just arrived in a truck with a tow bar. Drew went out and greeted them.

“So this is the heap you were talking about, huh?” Otto said, looking over the Escalade.

“Yep,” she said, and handed him the keys. He popped the hood and his people looked the engine over. Drew also got Otto to look at the NOS kit at the back. When he did, he shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Drew asked.

“Well, kid,” Otto said, gesturing at the Nitrous injector, “this particular kit isn’t suited to this kind of car. The Escalade has a 6.2-liter V8 engine. This NOS kit is only good for cars with three-liter engines and smaller. And I bet the injector adapters were just jury-rigged.”

“But I saw it work!”

“Also, look here,” Otto said, and pointed to one of the valves. “The Nitrous valve was unlocked and adjusted to feed more than what this kit’s supposed to deliver. They did that because of the larger engine. Sure, it worked, but since the valve’s lock was removed, it loosened while under pressure, and slowly increased the flow of the Nitrous Oxide.”

He gestured for Drew to lean in closer.

“Look at this” he pointed. Drew saw that the valve was already wide open.

“So, you think that’s what caused...”

“Mostly, yeah. Plus the fact that the driver probably let it run longer than what was optimal.” One of Otto’s mechanics came over and nodded hello to Drew, and tapped his boss's shoulder.

“Hey, Otto...” he began.

“Whatcha got?” Otto replied

“It’s pretty bad, boss. The engine block’s cracked, I think. There’s a big puddle of motor oil underneath. Won’t really be able to tell until we take down the block. And it doesn’t want to turn over. Crankshaft maybe, or maybe cracked connecting rods. The pistons will definitely be damaged as well. The radiator’s shot, too ‘coz of overheating, probably the water pump, too. The gaskets are probably burned out and manifolds are also probably cracked.”

Otto shook his head.

“What does all that mean,” Drew asked.

“That means, darlin’, that the engine block is most probably beyond repair. As well as the cooling system.”

“Oh, no! How much will it take to replace it?”

“Well, I can get a nice, used V8 L94 for maybe a couple of thousand, but that’s just the beginning. A whole pile of other stuff will be needed. Camshaft, pistons, piston heads, radiator, pump...”

Drew’s worried look got worse and worse as Otto went through the long litany of things that needed to be done and things to be replaced.

“So, how much?” she asked, cutting to the chase.

“Darlin’, I can’t be sure without really having to go through the thing in-depth. But definitely nothing less than twenty grand, most likely forty, and we’ll need at least a couple of months.."

"But it took you less than a month to complete the work on my twin-top, all told. And this one sounds like a simple engine replacement.”

“Well, it’s not just a 'simple' engine replacement. And besides that, my shop’s not really set up to work on trucks this big, Drew. I specialize in subcompacts and regular-sized cars. So it’ll take longer.”

He spread his hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to scam you. I don’t want to take on the job, actually. I got so many other things lined up, I don’t think I can even start working on this for months even if I did take this on. Believe me, it’s just too much trouble.”

“Well... okay. I won’t have it fixed anymore,” she said. “Damn,” she said under her breath. “And I thought I had another car...”

“Well, if you’re thinking of getting another car...”

“I might.”

”I think I can get you an old Porsche 911, or a second-hand Alfa Romeo Spider or something.”

Drew frowned. “You know me, Otto - a Porsche or a Spider... I don't want to buy any, ummm, 'recognizable' sports car. I don't want to be so obvious.”

Otto laughed. “And I thought you were just looking to save on the budget.” Drew scratched her head and had a sheepish look in her face.

“Well... Can I be completely honest, Otto? I have a reputation now. Because of Tiger, I mean, the Opel Tigra Twin-Top you refurbished for me. Everyone in school thinks she's amazing, especially for such a small car. And if I were to show up with just any old sports car... Well, I'll just be one of those girls who sweet-talked her dad to buy her a super-expensive toy...

“I doubt if a Porsche or an Alfa Romeo is anything remotely like any old sports car or a 'toy'...”

“Otto! You know what I mean! I don't want to people to think I'm just another spoiled kid that...”

Otto laughed. “Okay, okay! Simmer down, kid. Hmm.. Lemme think. A sports car that’s not too well known...” After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.

“I have a line on a nice, near-mint condition 2014-model Peugeot RCZ sports coupe.”

“Sports coupe? Sounds like an expensive…”

Otto waved her down. “I can let you have this one for two.”

“Huh? Gowan! What’s the catch? Is it stolen?”

“I got it legally from the owner, as a kind of bonus for a custom job I did on his real car, and I’m passing it on to you below my usual markup. It’s just in need of a little bodywork. As to how much that would be...”

“Aha! A ‘little’ bodywork, huh?”

“Really, Drew! I’m not scamming you. The car’s in pretty good shape! The owner was a pretty good guy and he kept it in tune. He was an executive in Peugeot, and he got this one second hand for his daughter more than two years ago. But the daughter never used it, so it was just stuck inside his garage. And then the garage’s roof collapsed because of a falling tree, and the car’s roof got stoved in. So, it’s in pretty mint condition except for the roof. Anyway, it was just taking up space in his garage so he wanted to get rid of it and make room for his wife’s new car. So he sold it to me for the price of towing it away.

“Anyway, as I said, I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want it, I got a list of other buyers. I just wanted to give you first crack at it.”

“Why aren’t you holding out for a better price?”

“I’m not in the business of selling rinky-dink cars. We are top-of-the-line mechanics, not kitsch car dealers ... not that this one is kitsch - it's Peugeot’s first sports coupe in abut ten years, after all. See?” Otto showed her his phone, which had a picture of the car.

Drew looked at the picture of the Peugeot. “Cute-looking car, even with the broken roof. I like it. Who was the previous owner again?”

“The owner is a good customer of mine. He’s an executive from Peugeot, and a part-time wine dealer and goes to California at least once a month on business. No one was using the car and he hated wasting garage space, and having to keep up its registration. So I offered to take it off his hands.”

“By passing it on to another customer?” Drew smiled.

“Ah, I give up!”

Drew giggled. “Simmer down, Otto! Anyway, how much to get it back up to snuff?”

“The car’s perfectly fine except for the roof. But if you want more than just a tune-up, it will depend on what you want done. If so, we might not be able to find cheap parts easily ‘coz it's been out of production for more than two years now. So, if you just want it as close to original but are amenable to after-market or make-alike stuff, and off-the-shelf paint, we can keep the cost down to something below five thousand. But if we want to soup it up to something like your twin-top...”

“Not exactly like my twin-top, but similar. For one thing... Ummm, what're the specs of the engine, by the way?”

“I can't remember, except it's a 1.6 engine, and it's top speed is one-forty.”

“That’s a pretty decent spec.”

“I think I can pull some strings and get another Mercedes CLA block just like the one I got for your Twin-Top. So that’ll up the displacement to 2,000 cc, and since the RCZ is lighter than the Mercedes, I think it can get close to your old Twin-Top’s max.”

“Then I definitely would want to change the engine.”

“That should be about fifteen to twenty thousand for engine, the bodywork and the improvements. If it’s like your twin-top.”

“A little steep, but okay. But I'd like some more bling for it, too.”

“Depends on what you want as ‘bling.’”

“Hmmm... Can you think up some ideas?”

“Okay, I'll think about it. A possible buyer’s coming in next week so we'll have ‘til then to decide, okay?"

“’Kay. Appreciate it, Otto.”

“No problem, kid.”

After some more chitchat, Drew asked them to check out her little Opel Twin-Top “Tiger” so that their trip wouldn’t be a complete waste. When they were done and had already left, she then went back in the house and researched the Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe on the net. And she found it nice-looking - a little larger than Tiger, but it still had that cute vibe. She was sure Jane would have liked it.

Later, when Phil arrived and Otto had finished his thing and was long gone, he was driving a fancy, open-bed Ford pickup, the midnight-black paint job reflecting the light almost as brightly as the chrome exhaust pipes and fancy spinners.

“How many trucks does Phil have, anyway,” Drew wondered. She could only assume the reason he came without his usual hangers-on was that he didn’t want anyone to witness the transaction.

“Hey, babe,” Phil said in his usual dirty-pig way. Drew knew better than to be baited so she just smirked. Phil couldn’t get it up to do much because Drew could up and tell his dad on him about his Escalade. And even if that wasn’t the case, he still wouldn’t - no one dared go up against Drew.

“So, Phil,” Drew said.

“I want to buy back my Escalade,” he said, without any preamble.

“Like I said, Phil, the engine’s a total loss. I even had her checked out earlier. The engine’s gone.”

Phil waved her down, not believing her. “That’s okay. I’ll have my guy look her over later.”

“Phil, I’m telling you...”

“Drew, you don’t need another car! You don’t have to do this.”

“Phil, I don’t want to keep your car...”

“Whatever. But I NEED to buy it back! My dad will kill me if he hears I lost it.”

“Ahhh, there it is,” Drew thought. “Finally.”

“... and I lost it to a girl, too,” Phil mumbled.

Drew sighed. “Okay. So what are you thinking?”

“Well, you can just give it back to me...”

“Fat chance of that. Just like you with your dad, if the kids in school hear that I just gave it back, my reputation’s shot. No, you have to buy it back.”

“Your reputation won’t be damaged! You’re Drew Nance, for God’s...”

“Sweet-talk won’t change my mind so you can stop it. In fact, you have to TELL the kids you bought it back, ‘coz if they don’t know that, there will be assumptions that I’m, well, that I’m sweet on you or something.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Phil gave her his most lecherous grin. “Heheheh...” Drew slapped him. Not hard at all, actually, more like a mock-slap, but Phil still went “Owww!”

“That’s gross!” Drew said.

“Gross? What do you mean ‘gross!’”

She waved her hands in the air. “Whatever! All I’m saying is that whatever happens, whatever you say, I’m going to tell everyone that you bought it back, and that you bought it back for a LOT of money. And if you call me a liar, no one will believe you, and I’m going to make life extremely hard for you.”

She stepped closer and she got in his face.

“And believe me,” she whispered in a very scary tone, “I can do that.”

Phil gulped. He knew Drew’s reputation and had seen how badly things went for those who crossed her. One of his buds, Jerry Gilroy, one of the more popular guys around, found himself being avoided by all the girls now, and because of that, everyone else avoided him, too. And all because he told everyone that he slept with Drew.

Even though no one believed Jerry, Drew didn’t like it nevertheless. Whatever Drew did (no one knew what, specifically), Jerry was being treated like a leper now.

Another story was about a kid that was selling crack, and how he was caught red-handed with his stash. He had accidentally dropped his bag - apparently, the clip of his bag-strap was accidentally unlocked, the bag’s flap was accidentally left open, and his accidental stumbling down the school entrance steps was because of an untied shoelace, a sticky puddle of Coke Zero and the triple distraction of Drew, Iola and Callie adjusting bra straps and shoe straps right beside him - all accidental (there was, however, talk that Drew was the one who accidentally spilled the soda).

And the resulting spill of half a kilo of crack cocaine across the school’s front paving stones right in front of a couple of off-duty cops who were there "by coincidence" sealed it for the guy. Being eighteen, he was tried in court as an adult and, under New York State law, he was sentenced to life in prison.

The talk around school was that the extreme number of “accidents” seemed to make the whole thing sound fishy, that someone (i.e. Drew) engineered the whole thing. And regardless of whether that was true or not, these and many other things have made Drew one of the scariest people to cross. And given that she was also one of the sexiest kids around, not to mention bright, talented, classy and rich - such talk has made her totally formidable indeed.

The closest that the school had to someone like Drew before she came on the scene was Janine, the captain of the varsity cheerleaders. And because Janine was graduating, she wouldn’t be around next school year. The rumor that Drew was also going to be a cheerleader this coming school year made people think that Drew will be “inheriting” Janine’s “throne.” Many felt relief at that because Janine was conceited, self-centered and vengeful, and Drew was not.

However, those that knew Drew well, like her best friends Callie and Iola, have publicly said, loudly and often, that won’t happen – that the “throne” will not go to Drew because she didn't want it. Whether that was true or not, only time will tell. But, regardless, it remained that very few people wanted to cross Drew, especially Phil Cohen, the latest victim of Drew’s... superpowers.

- - - - -

Phil looked down glumly after Drew laid down her terms. “Okay," Phil said. "You know you have me over a barrel. So. How much are you asking for her?”

Drew giggled. “Oh, Phil! I said I’m going to say that you paid me a lot of money.”

“Oh? ... Oh!” Phil laughed, finally getting it. “So... we’re done now?”

“Oh, no way! You’re still gonna pay me. But something reasonable.”

“Ummm... how about, say, a thousand bucks?”

Drew laughed, and Phil had to wait until she got herself under control.

“But you just said that she’s gone kaput." That triggered Drew again.

“Okay, okay,” Phil said before she could explode in laughter again. “Sorry. So how much would you take for her?”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s calculate how much your car was before the race, and start from there: A brand-new Escalade retails for around eighty grand. Your Escalade was well maintained and fairly new, had a lot of little doodads and other nifty toys. So it should get a good price. Thing is... after the race, you messed it up so the price should be lower now. It needs a brand-new GM 6.2 Liter V8 Vortec L94 engine, and that isn’t cheap... So that would bring the price down considerably...”

Phil nodded his head as if he was paying attention but actually wasn’t. “So, how much?”

Drew sighed and gave up. “Name me a price." Phil shrugged. “Forty thousand?" Drew sighed again. “Oh, Phil...”

“Really, Drew! That’s the best I can do!” (And, since Phil’s family was rich, this wasn’t so true.)

“You’re not getting it, Phil. I meant that price is pretty high.”

“Two thousand, then?” Phil said, hopefully, going the other direction.

Drew snorted. “Don’t be insulting, Phil.”

“Sorry. How about thirty grand?”

Drew had to stop at that. Should she or shouldn’t she. To be sure, he could afford it. His family’s loaded. Hmmm... And there’s that RCZ... “Okay, Phil. you got a deal.”

Phil sighed, relieved. “Will you take a check?”

Drew tsked. “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay. Lemme get you some cash.”

He went back to the pickup and got something from the glove compartment. “Okay. Here you go.” He handed Drew an envelope full of hundred-dollar bills. Drew took them out and counted them.

“Phil? This is only twenty-nine grand.” She gave him an evil look.

“Oops! Sorry. Heheheh.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and handed her another thousand.

Drew put them in the envelope with the rest, and stuck it in the waistband of her tights. She held out her hand and they shook on it.

“Okay, Mr. Phil Cohen. Your Escalade is yours again. Lemme go in and get you the keys and the title papers.”

Drew went into the house and came back with them. She found Phil inside his car. She made him sign a “receipt” she printed up and had witnessed by Aunt Arlene (although Aunt Arlene didn’t really read it), kept a copy for herself that she had Phil sign as well, and then handed him back the car’s papers.

“You know what you signed, right? It says that your car is yours again, but you can’t complain to me if you find anything wrong with it: whatever it is will be your problem.”

Phil nodded impatiently, not really listening.

“It doesn’t want to start, Drew!”

She sighed. “Phil, I DID tell you the car’s not working.”

“Did you top up the tank? Did you check the oil? How about the radiator?”

“Its tank is one-fourth full, Phil. And can you come down here a sec?”

Drew knelt on the pavement and pointed to the asphalt underneath the car. Phil knelt down as well and looked. He saw the pavement underneath covered in oil.

“There’s your oil. Now pop the hood.”

Drew then went inside the house and came out a minute later with a bottle of water. She had Phil lift the hood, and then she took off the radiator cap off and poured the water she was carrying into the radiator.

As she poured it in, Phil noted the puddle of water that collected underneath.

“Like I said before, your car isn’t running,” Drew said.

“Well, then, how did you expect me to drive her out of...”

“Phil! I never expected you to drive it out of here! Isn’t that why you brought the pickup? So you can tow it?” Phil put a bold face on his cluelessness. “Well, sure...”

Drew scratched her head in frustration. “I’ll help you hook it up to your pickup. Now, maneuver your truck here. Who’s gonna drive the pickup?”

“Ummm...”

Drew shook her head. “Okay. Move your pickup in front of the Escalade. I’ll hook it up and you give one of your buds a call.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks, Drew.”

A little over twenty minutes later, one of his buds, Dave Evans, walked over from the bus stop.

“Eyyy! Wazzup, Phil?” And they did a semi-complicated high-five.

“Hey, Dave,” Drew said.

“Hey, Drew, how’s it going?”

“Can’t complain. Getting impatient for Phil to tow his pile of junk from the front of my house, actually.”

“No problem. Let ole’ Dave take care of everything. So, Phil, what? Did Drew just give it back?”

Before Phil could say anything, Drew cut in.

“No, I sold it back to him.”

“What? No! How much did you have to pay, Phil?”

“Thir-“

But before Phil could finish, Drew interrupted.

“I asked him to pay a bundle for it, and the chump ponied up, too.” Drew giggled theatrically.

Phil nodded, noting Drew’s look, and played along. “Yeah. Forty grand.”

“Forty grand!” Dave exclaimed. “What the fuck!”

“Yeah, dude,” Phil said. “But you know me – I’d do anything for Drew.” Phil laughed.

“Well, okay. But I think you got ripped off, Phil,” Dave snorted and gave Drew a dirty look. “Now let’s get outa here.”

“Nahhh, Phil said. ” Drew's cool. Besides...”

Dave chortled at the implication.

“Phil, you liar!” Drew exclaimed, and hit him on the shoulder so strongly, Phil thought she hit him with a baseball bat.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Phil climbed behind the pickup’s steering wheel and Dave in the Escalade, and they pulled away from the curb. “Bye, Drew,” Phil said and waved goodbye. “Good doing business with you.”

“Seeya, Phil.” And when they were safely away, Drew mumbled under her breath. “Stupid idiot...”

Drew remembered a quote from Winnie-the-Pooh, and it went, “when you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.”

Drew resolved to call Phil Winnie the Pooh from now on.

She pulled the envelope from her back that had the money and the “bill of sale” that she had Phil sign. She fanned a big pile of crisp hundred-dollar bills. “Looks like I have a new car” she said to herself and chortled like a mad scientist from one of those B movies.

- - - to be continued - - -

 

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