The car of an era (Christmas Special) - Alberto Jiménez

 

🟥🟨🟥Spanish version

I miss my mother. I miss her very much. She had a strength that I never had. She's the one who pulled me and my brother through, all by herself. Without any help. Working all hours and finding time, I don't know how, to be with us, helping us with our classes, taking us on excursions or whatever was we needed.

Oblivious to the sacrifice of any excursion, we were always in the car, travelling somewhere. The mountains, the zoo, the cinema at Madrid, the beach or visiting another nearby city; anything but staying at home.

The only good thing my father did for us, when he left us, was to give up the car. That Seat 124 took us everywhere that the meagre capital my mother managed to earn by combining two jobs allowed. As there was never enough money, my mother never changed car in her life. The 124 underwent every possible repair during its lifetime.

My mother died eight years ago, but I still dream about her. When I talk about it with my brother, he tells me that it's the same for him. Our mother is still with us every night. We've both had grey hair for a long time now, we're not such children that this, the death of a family member, is still so present to us. This curious resistance to the memory of our mother is one of the few things with substance that I talk about with my brother. We each live in a different city. Our relationship is reduced to sporadic phone calls, and I know that, in both of our heads, there is that we should see each other more but we never do.

We keep the house in the village where we grew up. A small village far from tourist routes, surrounded by olive groves and four other houses that are falling apart. Since our mother's death I hardly ever go there. The house has become sad and cold. If I must visit my uncles and aunts, who still live there, I prefer to sleep with them in one of my cousins' old rooms. Occasionally I have taken the opportunity to walk around the inside of our old house. Seeing our rooms anchored in time leaves an unbearable weight on my shoulders. On the fridge there was a photo booth strip with four photos. Four pictures of my mother, my brother and me. Happy. In one of them, my mother winked and stuck out her tongue, seeming to mock my low mood.

Like many other times I was out of work. I could still look for a job via the internet and by asking friends and acquaintances. The mobile phone works everywhere. So, I decided not to be sullen and to visit the neglected family in the village.

That time I decided to stay in our old home. The chimney was smoking again, I moved some furniture, repaired, and painted walls. And one day, I also went into the garage. There was the old Seat 124, under a dusty tarpaulin. With the keys in it so it wouldn't get lost. My mother was in everything.

I turned the key in the ignition without hope, certain that no noise would be heard. However, something moved inside - it tried, the car tried!

I opened the bonnet of the car as if there was a little leprechaun there to point a finger at the problem. I knew I had no idea about cars, but I was also aware that I had a lot of time on my hands.

I completely emptied the interior of the car looking for all the documentation related to the model, years of manufacture, repairs done... I cleaned it inside and out. I changed everything within my reach: filters, battery, carburettor, wires, and spark plugs. It may seem a cliché, but on YouTube there are people who make videos of everything.

It worked.

The day came when, when I turned the ignition, the engine sounded with an acceptable regularity. It didn't jump or choke, but there was some friction. A shiver of happiness and pride ran through my body. I turned the wheel that turned on the car radio and, with a brief search, Pharrell Williams' Happy started playing. I laughed like a madman, all by myself, inside the car.

That night I went to sleep with an incredible satisfaction. With the feeling of being immortal or all-powerful. Thinking that, in the morning, when I woke up, I would have several jobs offers as a mechanic waiting in my email. Or even that I would open my own repair shop.

In the morning, what I found was something quite different. I started by hearing strange knocking in the garage. When I went inside, I found an unknown man struggling with the car to release his foot. He had broken in during the night and somehow his foot was trapped under the tire of the vehicle.

I threatened him with a shovel from a distance to keep him still while I called the Guardia Civil. In this small town they arrived immediately. They took away the man who said the car had moved by itself.

The truth is that I had to release the handbrake to move the car and free the thief's foot.

I didn't tell my brother about the unpleasant surprise. I wanted the car to be a surprise. This Christmas I would go to his house with him. Every Christmas Eve had been a bit bland for a long time. Uncle Francisco, that's me, was entirely to blame. I am a bitter man who has not been able to create a family like my brother with his three children and his lifelong girlfriend. None of my partners have put up with me long enough to share a family dinner on Christmas Eve.

As I made my way to my brother's house, I thought, not without shame, that I was empty-handed again. The road was cold, as empty as my pockets. No gifts for my nephews and nieces, and no presents for my brother or sister-in-law. I had the consolation of knowing that having recovered the Seat, it would be a great gift for my brother. The fog rooted itself to the asphalt, but I didn't slow down at all. My thoughts were to get there as soon as possible. I knew it would be great to drive around before dinner or just sit inside for a while, reminiscing about the trips we used to take with our mother when we were little. I couldn't wait to get there and tell her how I had fixed it.

The radio turned itself on and an old Kiko Veneno song began to play: "En un Mercedes blanco llegó, a la feria del ganado..." (In a white Mercedes came to the cattle fair...). The glove compartment opened and, without thinking, I tried to close it with one hand. My absent-mindedness made me pull off the road to the right. Just enough to avoid colliding head-on with a white Mercedes that was driving in the middle of the road.

I stopped the car on the hard shoulder with a slam on the brakes. I was as white as fog, as pale as the spectre that almost ended my life in the form of a car. The Mercedes disappeared into the fog without stopping to check the condition of the occupant it had run off the road.

-Andrés? -I asked my brother on the phone -Yes. Hey, listen. Listen, I'll be a while. It'll be a while before I get there. There's a lot of fog on the road, okay? I'm bringing you a surprise. I love you, Andrés.

-You've got a surprise for me too? You don't have to... Well, I'll be there. A kiss, see you soon.

While I was stopped, I checked the glove compartment door. Clean and empty. I'd left all my papers at the old family home. Clean and empty like my wallet. What a guest to arrive with nothing! I pressed the glove compartment door several times until it closed. I walked around the car, checking to make sure that the off-road driving hadn't caused any damage to the Seat.

I continued my way to my brother's house without any further mishaps. I managed to park in front of his house without any problem. As I knocked on the door, I asked my brother to close his eyes to show him my surprise. As I was walking my smiling brother to the car, I noticed a woman I didn't know.

-Francisco, this is Alicia -my sister-in-law introduced me from the doorway, trying to hold back the children who also wanted to get out. My friend Alicia, don't you remember her?

-I don't remember, but I wish I did -I thought to myself, as Alicia looked at me with a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear with the flick of a finger.

-A Seat 124 Sport 1600 -Alicia pointed to the car in response to the introduction.

-Yes, how did you know? -I asked, a bit puzzled.

My brother couldn't contain himself and opened his eyes when he heard the model of the car.

-Is that the car, Francisco? This is mum's car, isn't it? -My brother had the sparkle in his eyes that children have when they open their presents at Christmas time.

Get inside quickly, it's cold -said my sister-in-law, Esther, from the doorway, ushering the children inside.

My brother got into the car, got behind the wheel and started it. He started asking me technical questions about repairing the car. Questions that, instead of me answering, Alicia was answering. My brother lifted the bonnet of the car to look inside but, as he is another clueless person, just like me at the beginning, he started to walk around the car looking at everything.

-I congratulate you -said Alice, giving me a little punch on the arm. Most people wouldn't dare touch a car like that.

-Wow, that's so sweet! -My brother had opened the boot and was taking some parcels out of it. -For Andrés, for Esther, and these bulky ones must be for the boys. Thanks Francisco. I'm going to put them in the garage, so the kids won't see them until tomorrow.

-What is it? -I wanted to know, pointing alternately to my brother loaded with packages and to the boot, which I assumed was empty.

My brother looked back at the car and watched Alicia, who was still with her head in the engine, squeezing things with her hands. He took a coin out of his pocket and used it as a screwdriver, squeezing something inside.

-Sorry -Alicia apologised - it's just that I'm a bit of a car geek. It's what I do for a living, you know?

Then I noticed that her hands looked worked. She wasn't bluffing about cars.

-Go for a drive -my brother shouted from his garage door. If I don't let Alicia drive that car for a while longer, she'll never speak to me again. Esther and I still must set the table.

-May I? -said Alicia, pointing to the passenger door.

-Of course -I said, not understanding where the gifts for my family had come from and why an attractive woman seemed to have some chemistry for me.

We sat in the car, I started the engine and noticed how Alicia paid attention to the cadenced sound of the exploding mechanics. I paid attention too and noticed that the grinding noise of the engine had disappeared. I nodded towards Alice in acknowledgement.

The glove compartment door opened again. This time over Alicia's knee.

-Sorry -I wanted to apologise. She caught me in the middle of the road earlier, too.

She looked inside and pulled out a small package with her name on the wrapper. She looked at me with both surprise and a smile on her face. She did that gesture that I like so much of tucking her hair behind her ear with one finger. I noticed that on the wrapping of her present was a picture of my mother's fridge, smiling, sticking out her tongue and winking.

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