For The Car

Now it was only an hour until visitor hours were over at the hospice. Cleanup at work took too long and now I am late for the bus. I sighed and checked my phone, squinting at the cracked and dimmed screen. It was a text from Mom saying she would be home late today again. “Alex, go ahead and fix yourself something to eat. And tell your uncle that I said hi.”

I scrolled through the same used car listings I scrolled through earlier. Rolling my eyes, I put away my phone to avoid draining the failing battery. Thinking of the few hundred dollars in my bank account I went through the same numbers I did every day. I could fix my phone and have a bit leftover. Or I could get a new phone and finally let this one die. Or I could keep saving for a car. It would be a long time before I could afford something reliable. I didn’t want to be stranded over and over like some of my co-workers by a car that barely runs. All blogs said that fixing a car myself was the way to go to save money… But without tools or know-how, that idea seems as unrealistic as the thought that I would be able to afford a car someday. These thoughts were my routine now as I rode the bus to the hospice.

Uncle Joe smiled through a wet cough when I entered. “There’s my favorite nephew!” he said. I smiled despite myself. It was always nice to hear him say it, though nowadays I could barely make it out through the coughing. He asked about work and about my mom. He was a great listener and seriously considering every word as I talked about my day. When the nurse popped in to let us know that visiting hours were almost over, we were both surprised. Waiting for the bus those extra few minutes cost us some of the limited time we had. It seemed to be happening more often recently. Uncle Joe saw my face and seemed to read my mind, “’ If only I had a car,’ eh? Don’t worry too much and keep on working hard! You can tell me about that old Toyota you’re thinking about tomorrow. I’ll be here.”

…..

After the funeral, my cousin approached and thanked me for coming and for visiting her father so often while he was at the hospice. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she smiled at me still. “I know it was not easy for you to take the time. I hope you know that he really appreciated it.”

…..

The phone rang a few days after the funeral. My mother shouted from upstairs asking me to answer. I picked up the phone and before I could say anything I heard, “Hello, this is Adam Meadows, attorney to the late Mr. John Michaels. I’m looking for Mr. Alex Michaels.” I quickly replied, “Sorry but he does not live here. I can give you his number.” Adam replied after a short pause, “Is this Mr. John Michaels’ nephew, Mr. Alex Michaels Jr.? Sorry for the confusion but I do believe that you are the one I am looking for. I’ve called to inform you that you have been named to inherit some items in the late Mr. John Michaels’ last will and testament. We only need to confirm your address.”

…..

My mom knocked once and opened the door. “The package from the attorney’s office arrived for you. I’ll leave it here. You can tell me about it after dinner.” She closed the door and left. I opened the package, there were two envelopes and a little black book inside. The first one was from the attorney’s office, with a copy of the will, a notice about their role in the process, and an ad for their various services. The second envelope was plain, and it only read “For Alex” on the front. I opened and my mouth gaped open. A check for $20,000 dollars. The memo simply read “For the car.” I bounced around the room for a while with thoughts of the car I could afford with the money. Once I sobered up a bit, I remembered the little book was left in the package. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I started skimming the contents. It had months of notes and letters and journal entries on my time with my uncle. The first one was dated to the same week he had started chemo when I started visiting all the time. His handwriting got worse as his cancer got worse. The entries stopped abruptly two days before he passed away. He barely mentioned himself or his illness, just his thoughts on everything I told him and well wishes for my future.