Uncle Bob’s Cherry
Poor Uncle Bob. He called me up on his old fashioned rotary phone the other day, bawling. He didn’t know what to do! I could barely hear the words between his sobs. The jest of it was, he borrowed Grandpa’s car whilst his was in the shop. Grandpa made him promise not to smoke when driving his vehicle.
It was a snow stormy day. Uncle Bob said that the windshield wiper flew clear off the windshield mid swish! He put his blinkers on and parked at the side of the road, idling. He retrieved the wiper. When he got back to the car, there on the driver’s seat, was a cherry burn!
It threw him back in time, to a sunny afternoon when he was four years old. Playing with all the buttons and knobs on the panel of his Dad’s racing green sports car. One of the little buttons made a popping sound. Curious, he pulled it out. It was warm. He wondered how warm it was, and squashed it into the black leather seat. It was the cigarette lighter!
Needless to say, Grandpa was furious. That fury found a place to burrow in little Bobs bones. Today his heart was aching. He tried to get the burn repaired. He bought new seat covers, only to discover that they didn’t fit.
When he met his father to collect his own wheels, he fessed up. Told him the whole darned sordid tale.
Grandpa drew a sly smile up his furry cheeks. “You didn’t do that” he smirked. “Last spring, I went to the coffee shop. When I got back to my car, there was a stranger sitting in my seat. I surprised him when I opened the door, and the cherry fell off his dart! I told you that story last year.”
They both had a good laugh. Uncle Bob was so relieved that he took me out for coffee today. I’m sure glad he didn’t smoke on the drive there or back.