Glimpses in Time

By Nicholas Morell

Brad Sherman would have sett led for being one of the best
auto mechanics in town, living happily with his wife Melanie
and their two kids. He really didnt need, or for that matt er
want, the gift that he was about to discover that he had.
But one morning, he realized that he could see things that
others could not, and because of that gift , he might be able
to save them some misery.
This is a tale of an ordinary guy with the ability to use his
extraordinary talent to help those in trouble and to right
some wrongs, all from the front seat of a car. We all might
consider backing up a sedan mundane, but in Brads case,
that simple maneuver took on new meaning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483690223

Nicholas Morell

Nicholas Morell is a retired Obstetrician who worked with Kaiser for over thirty-five years. His wife Cheryl is a practicing Pediatrician with Kaiser. They have three sons, two of whom have gone into medicine, and the third into research.

Book preview

1

That traffic light had seen a lot of cars go by. Almost all of them stopped when the light turned red, and too many knew that yellow meant get to the other side of the intersection at all costs. His garage happened to be on the corner, watched over by that traffic light.

It wasn’t a bad spot. In fact, the exposure for his signs was pretty good. It was probably better than being in the middle of the block because for those who did stop at the red light, and didn’t change the radio station, call a friend, put on eyeliner, read the paper, or floss, they had a decent shot at seeing his hand-painted lettering about precision service for all makes and models. The paint was chipping a bit, but the color was still as vibrant as his brother-in-law had promised, and the price was right.

He had liked working on cars for as long as he could remember. His dad worked the construction jobs, but his uncle had a gas station and garage when he was younger; and he recalled spending time with Uncle Joe on weekends, helping pump gas, do oil changes and minor brake jobs. Uncle Joe seemed to know just about everything there was to know about cars, and he could fine-tune a carburetor, or figure out what that annoying tapping sound was. He sure didn’t need any diagnostic gadget or sensing computerized gizmo to tell him the timing belt was off. That’s what his ears were for, he used to say. Maybe he inherited some of his uncle’s STP-ESP!

For whatever reason, this was his chosen trade, his life’s direction. In high school, when the others were concerned about algebra and trig, he was figuring out torque and balance. The easy trade was college prep for mechanics school, and he amazed his instructors with his practical knowledge. While the other kids in his class were working at McDonalds for extra cash, he continued his apprentice work; and when his uncle got old enough to retire, he worked for another garage in town, and they were lucky to get him!

Growing up in Ohio, life was fairly predictable, and that was all right with him. He had people he could count on, and there weren’t too many surprises. His friends in school were his friends from the neighborhood, and on weekends, they would hang out, or go to movies or dances at the church when they were older. They would dress up in their coats and ties just for the opportunity to stand against the wall listening to the band while the girls, who were much less intimidated, would dance and laugh, and eye the boys, sometimes enticing them to join them. If the night was right, and Jupiter was aligned with Saturn, and Aquarius was in the third house, one of them would wander part way out on the dance floor and bob up and down a bit, or swish a leg back and forth. It didn’t happen often.

It was hard for him to remember how he went from holding up the wall at the church dances to being married with two kids. The whole teenage experience seemed to pass by with some fun memories, a whole lot of embarrassing moments, and the realization of one day being a somewhat mature adult responsible for the safety and well-being of two toddlers, oh yeah, and a wife too, although she often took care of him when necessary. All in all, though, it seemed to turn out pretty good, and even if they weren’t living the lives of the rich and famous, they weren’t wondering where their next meal was coming from either. So there they were, in their small town in Ohio, living the American dream. That is until some very strange things began to happen.

2

The blare of the alarm sounded. At first, he tried very hard to incorporate that annoying sound into the dream he was having. But somehow, a loud incessant beeping just didn’t go with drifting on an inflatable raft in Bill Hanley’s pool, sipping on a Coors Light. So he turned over and slapped the night stand with his right hand, scoring the alarm on the second try. Melanie was still in the midst of her dream. He looked over and could see her eyes moving from side to side under the closed lids, and a half smile on her face. Yeah, she was still enjoying hers. At times like that, he often wondered, and hoped, that he figured into her good dreams. She said he did, but was she just saying that to make him feel good, or was it the truth? He hoped it was the latter. He was sure that she loved him and he was convinced that they were happy in their marriage, but they did have their times. They did argue occasionally. Who didn’t? Wasn’t that part of any marriage? I mean, if you didn’t argue sometime, something was wrong, right? Okay, enough theorizing, he had to get into that shower and get ready for work. Those cars wouldn’t fix themselves.

The hot water always felt good, and in the shower he could think about things and be all by himself. He could let his mind wander, and think of what could have…

Daddy Daddy… squealed Billy. Gracie fell out of her crib, and she’s crying, a lot!

That was enough to pull him back into the reality of the moment. Daydreams.

Billy, go get Mommy while I dry off, he commanded in a worried voice.

I’m already on my way, reassured Melanie.

Billy disappeared, and for a few minutes, everything was silent again. He quickly toweled off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Then he hurried into Gracie’s room, and found her in Melanie’s arms, head buried in Mom’s shoulder and neck, still sobbing a bit, mostly with those long stuttering inspirations.

Are you okay, baby? he asked her, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

Fell down boom! she said. Gracie was nineteen months old and had the habit of climbing out of her crib in the mornings to surprise Mom and Dad. That morning, she lost her grip and hit the deck. Billy was the first to hear her mishap and came to the rescue.

I think it’s time Gracie got a big girl bed, what do you think, Brad? Melanie asked.

I think you’re right, he agreed. If you meet me after work, we can go to Sears or Montgomery Wards and buy one, okay?

Sounds good, Melanie said.

The rest of the morning went off without incident. They had their breakfast with only one major spill, as two spills was the average, and when finished, Brad was off to the garage.

They lived less than a mile from the garage, and since the town was small, the interstate skirted it on the opposite side from there. Traffic was quiet in the mornings, and mostly consisting of moms getting their kids to school and shop owners and business people heading for their places of employment. When he got to the garage, she was waiting for him out front, a woman in her mid- to late-twenties, attractively dressed in designer jeans and heels that made most of us wonder how she would be able to balance, let alone walk. She had a plum colored top and a dark jacket to the waist. She looked worried and in a hurry.

Good morning, he greeted her as he found the right key to open the office door, his lunch in his other hand.

Good morning, I was wondering, do you fix tires because my right front tire is low. I noticed it this morning as I was starting off and if I don’t get it fixed, I may not be able to get to where I’m going and that could be a real problem for me; so do you fix tires, I hope so, she said, all in one breath.

Why, as a matter of fact, I do fix tires, he stated. Are you in a hurry, Ma’am?

Is it that obvious? she asked, blushing.

Yeah, from your first question, it was an easy guess, he joked.

You see, I have to be somewhere, and if I’m late, well, I just have to get there, and… She started to ramble on again.

Okay, okay, he said, is that the car? He pointed to the Toyota Camry, a dark blue four-door, parked at the curb to the left of his driveway.

That’s it, she admitted, see the tire on that side, I can’t drive it like that on the interstate ’cause it might blow when I would go sixty or sixty-five and then I might lose control and…

Maybe you could pull it into my first bay here. I’ll open the door for you, he said, trying to calm her down.

I will, right away, she said, and almost jumped as she did a one-eighty toward her Camry. She drove it into the garage bay as he directed her left and right and when to stop with hand signals. Then he opened her door and helped her out of the car. As he did, he noticed a large bruise on the top of her left foot. He was about to comment on it, and ask her if she had fallen or trapped it in something when she said, Will this take a long time because I have to get going or I’ll be…

Let me take a quick look at the tire and let you know, he said. You can have a seat in my office if you like. He was meaning to come up with the time and the funds for a separate waiting room for his customers, you know, like those auto repair shops that advertise on television, the ones that have free coffee and donuts and miniature golf for their customers while they wait. His customers got two old folding chairs, a shared Sparkletts water dispenser and copies of Popular Mechanics and Field and Stream, both about a year old.

May I watch? she asked.

Well, it’s against the rules according to my insurance company, but since it’s so early, and no one else is here, if you stay out of the way, I won’t tell if you don’t, he said.

Okay, she said. Is here okay?

Fine, he answered. Just watch out ’cause your car is going up on the lifter.

Her car went up and up and then stopped. Brad inspected the right front tire as he spun it around. He spotted the problem, an eight-penny nail hiding in the tread.

There’s your problem, he exclaimed like Sherlock Holmes, the culprit is a nail, right there in the tread. You can see the head of it. He pointed to it, and she came over to inspect the finding.

Does it mean a new tire and do you have one here that I can buy and how long will it take to replace because I have to…

No, I can fix it in about ten to fifteen minutes, if that’s okay, he offered. It’ll cost you seven-fifty, he paused, plus tax.

She looked at him in surprise. Okay… okay, great… please do… I mean, yes.

He got his tire iron and proceeded to remove the wheel and make the repair.

You’re not from around here, are you? he asked, making small talk.

No, she hesitated, why do you ask?

No reason, he said. It’s just that most people in this town aren’t ever in such a hurry to do anything.

I’m not usually either, she tried to cover. But today is different, that’s all, just different. There was a tone of resolve in her voice as if she had just made up her mind about something, and she was trying to convince herself that it was the right decision for her. There was also some hesitation in that resolve.

So you need any directions to where you’re going this morning? he asked. I know the area very well, grew up here, and sometimes the traffic on the interstate can get sticky, not this early right here, but a bit later down the road.

Well, yes, I am headed for… for… a… for Baltimore, she decided, on the spot.

Baltimore? he asked, a bit surprised. That’s one heck of a day trip. And you say you have to be there when?

I… I have to be there… a… as soon as possible, she again recovered as best she could. I have a sister there, and she said I could go to see her whenever I wanted.

He sensed, for some reason, the last part was the truth, why, he didn’t know. He finished up the tire repair, remounted it, and replaced the wheel after a quick air fill and balance. Then he told her to stand away from the car as he lowered it down. Walking around the front of the car, he hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine to back it up out of the bay and into the driveway area. That’s when it happened. While the car was idling in park, he felt like he was almost passing out, but he didn’t lose consciousness. It was a weird sensation, like three shots of tequila, but still in control.

He was there, but he wasn’t, and for about three seconds, he saw a scene, like a scene from a movie or a television show. He saw his customer and a man, a very large man, with short red hair, hair so red it was almost flaming. He had a look of hatred on his face and he had her by her right leg. His very large fist was grasping her right ankle. She was struggling and kicking with all her might to free herself and finally did, and then everything vanished into the hum of the engine.

Brad shook off the brief but moving event, and backed up the car into one of the outside spaces. He turned off the key and left it on the passenger seat. When he got out, she was waiting at the door, looking from side to side and over top of the car.

How much do I owe you? she asked.

Seven fifty, he answered. By the way, can I do anything for you?

What? she asked abruptly.

I mean, do you need any help? Brad asked.

Help… me… oh, no… well, she hesitated, took in a breath, looked around, and then realized she couldn’t take any more time with a total stranger. She had to go. Now! Just the best way to the interstate… to Baltimore.

Yeah, he said in resignation. You go out of the driveway and go right at the light, up three blocks… After finishing the directions, he said, Sure I can’t help you with something else?

No, she said emphatically and handed him a crumpled up ten.

I’ll get you your change from inside. It’ll take just a minute, and do you need a receipt? he asked.

Keep it, she said as she started the car, looked at him with grateful eyes, and sped off. He stood in the driveway for a few minutes wondering what just happened, but being the practical guy that he was, he shrugged it off as a squirly girl in a hurry to Baltimore.

The traffic started to pick up. Wilson, his part-time mechanic, who worked for him on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays, drove up. They had a few jobs booked for the day, and he expected Mrs. Nymer’s Chevy in for a brake job around nine-thirty.

Morning Wilson, Brad greeted.

Hey Brad, replied Wilson. You’re working early, aren’t you?

Yeah, said Brad. A woman with a flat was waiting at the door when I got here. Eight-penny nail turned into ten bucks. Not a bad start to the day.

Nice lady? Wilson asked.

I guess so, but a little weird, said Brad. "It was like she was running from something or someone. Anyway, she came and went in a flash. Look, there’s Mrs. Nymer. She’s early. I’ll check her in while you set up for her brake