Lucas Jakobsson was a piece of shit and he knew it. The lawyer never tried to hide it, neither to me or to dad. So about two weeks or so after my father’s funeral he texted me and said that I should come to a place that I had never heard of a couple of kilometres outside of Västerås.
My dad had died a poor man and didn’t leave much behind to me, my mother and the rest of the family so when Lucas texted me and told me about the last piece of the inheritance I was on my way.
I waited outside of the rural warehouse for two hours before he showed up … late and with a vague musk of alcohol. He was between 55 or 60. Didn’t really care to be frank. He was just ugly. Ugly and disgusting as fuck.
“Where the fuck have you been! It’s 1.15 PM and you should have been here at 11!” I raised myself from the stump I had sat on and was thinking of giving him a smack for my troubles.
“Did I say eleven? Gosh … well I’m here am I not.”, He said smirking accompanied with greasy laughter. What did dad see in this man? I’ll never know.
Lucas took out a key from his pocket opened the gate to the three-meter-tall fence that circled around the old warehouse. Somehow its hight didn’t prevent much though because of all the graffiti on the warehouse building. They probably went through a hole somewhere. The place was old. I think the only modern thing the building was blessed with was the alarm system since it had a twelve-digit code which took Lucas three minutes to figure out since it also was timed.
“Welcome to my humble abode! Step in, step in …”, he said as he held the door.
“Quit it, okay! You aren’t funny! Just show me the so-called inheritance so I can be on my way!”
He looked at me with great disdain as did I. He sighed and turned on the light as he led the way into the half dark room.
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The room was filled with old vinyl records and different kinds of pornos, some on video, most of it in magazines. Everything looked to have been untouched for more than 5 years. “How long ago was it since anyone was here?”
He picked up an old record and looked at it. He answered hesitantly:
“Well, your dad or a buddy of his may have been here recently, hard to know, but as far as I can say nobody have touched the stuff since … about four years I think.”
I nodded. He kept staring at the record cover. Then he turned towards me. “Holy shit! This album brings back memories.” He showed me the cover which portrayed a topless woman standing against a wall riddled with Spanish motives. “Surfer Rosa. Your dad and I did cocaine together listening to this. Should I play it?” And he put on the old record player before I had time to stop him. What followed was a cringing two minutes as he sang and danced along with the first track.
This is a song for Carol
You're into Japanese fast food
And I drop you off with your Japanese lover
And you're going to the beach all day
You're so pretty when you're unfaithful to me
You so pretty when you're unfaithful to me
You're looking like
You've got some sun
Your blistered lips
Have got a kiss
They taste a bit like everyone
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
Your bones got a little machine
You're the bone machine
I was talking to preachy-preach about kissy-kiss
He bought me a soda
He bought me a soda
He bought me a soda and he tried to molest me in the parking lot
Yep, yep yep yep
I think you're pretty
You make me hard
Your irish skin
Looks Mexican
Our love is rice and beans and horses lard
Your bones got a little machine
You're the bone machine
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
Your bones got a little machine
I wish this wasn’t written down and instead was scene in a mediocre movie so you could have heard and seen everything so you could have suffered with me.
I kicked the record player of the table it sat on. It made a scratching sound.
“I did not wait two fucking hours for a one-man show starring some piece of shit like you. Start showing me something interesting or I will do to you what I did to the record player!”
“Drop it with those anger issues you have son. I promise someday it will be bad for you.”, he said smiling.
***
Lucas led me further down into the half-darkness. We entered a big room that looked better than all the else. The dry air coupled with the smell of gasoline. It was empty except for one thing. When I came closer, I could distinguish what it was.
It was wrapped fully in a dusty blue sheet. “Would you look at the curves on that.”, said Lucas.
We helped each other wrap away the sheet and slowly it revealed the black lustrous body of 1968 Dodge Charger.
It was in really good condition with unused tires. She practically looked brand new.
In that exact moment evening sunlight came in trough the high windows and shined on her and she started showing of her golden shiny lines across the black cool metal that previously had been hidden. Golden lines that represented feathers.
In that moment I fell in love.