Page 41 of Shar: A Woman Alone

“Take a seat, Pres, I’ll be with you in a second.” Taking aseat, I wait to see what’s coming.

Josie walks up with a plate of bacon sandwiches and asteaming cup of coffee. “There you go, Pres. Just like the old days, onlycleaner. I mean the hygiene standards, not the server.”

Thanking her, I don’t get involved in any otherpleasantries. The jury is still out in my court, and only time will tell ifthis was a good move.

I’m just finishing the last of my bacon sandwiches, whichwere damn good, I have to say, when Psycho and Porky walk in. They have to gettheir own coffee and sandwiches, I notice, then Psycho looks over and I gesturefor them to join me.

“Morning, Pres,” they say in tandem as they take theirseats. “There seems to be something different going on here these days. Thekitchen looks like something from a fancy restaurant, not the scruffy soupkitchen it was a few weeks ago.” Porky gives a chin lift as he says this toshow his approval, I’m sure.

“Like I was saying in the last church you guys attended, Iwant better things for the club these days. We all deserve better than what wehad. As soon as you're done eating, grab Croc and then come see me in theoffice, and we’ll go look over the junkyard together. I want to get thatonboard as a club business as soon as possible, if we can agree on a wayforward for it.”

“We won’t be long getting through this chow. It’s betterthan they serve at the diner, Pres, and that is worth the ride.” It looks likethe brief road trip and a couple of days chilling at the clubhouse, have blownaway some of Psycho’s cobwebs. He isn’t usually so forthcoming with praise, Ithink to myself.

An hour later and we’re outside the junkyard. It doesn’thave a business sign up anymore, just the space against the outer wall where itused to be. Walking through the main gates, which don’t look as though they’vebeen closed fully in some time, the place is a shithole. Even for a junkyard,it is a dump.

How anyone can find anything, let alone walk around safely,God only knows. You take your life in your hands just to get to the office.Well, I say office, but it’s actually the back of some old semi-trailer by thelook of it. It has had a double door cut into the side of it in its early daysand probably looked quite decent back then. Like everything else we can see atfirst glance, it’s been left to go downhill. The frame moves as we open thedoor and try to enter.

“Don’t try to slam it shut. It don’t shut proper no more.” Aman looks up from behind a desk, shrouded in cigarette smoke. “We haven’t gotanything here to interest folks like you, either.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” His attitude has alreadygot my attention, and it's the kind of attention he doesn’t want.

“I mean, we don’t do bikes. None of that two-wheeleddeath-dealing machine stuff in this yard. Had me a bike once. Rode it twice anddamn near got killed by some dumb ass in a pickup, both times. Put it in thebarn and it's been there ever since. Start it up a couple of times each yearand it fires up every time. ‘Course I never ride it. Just roll it out in thesunshine, give it a quick wash, and roll it back. Surprised the damn thinghasn’t rusted away to nothing.”

“We’re not here for a few spare parts. We might beinterested in the complete business, though. Who do I need to speak to abouttaking the business over?” I watch him closely and see the dollar signs springup in his eyes.

“I own the business. Inherited it from my pa when he passedsome years back. Name’s Richard S. Everard. Same as it says on the boardoutside, ‘Everard Parts.’ Gives me a good living, too.” He’s so full of bullthat I can almost hear it bellow. He doesn’t seem to realize that there is noboard outside any longer. That speaks volumes.

“Mind if we take a look around, then?” He’s out of his chairin a second and offering his hand.

“I’ll take you round myself. Give you the grand tour.”Shaking his hand is like waving a dead fish in the air. Cold, slimy, and limp.I won’t be doing that again.

Following Richard S. Everard out of the ‘office’, I givePsycho a nod of the head to one side and he immediately gets the hint. As soonas we’re outside, he slips away to do his own evaluation of the junkyard.

Following Richard around, I can almost feel all the placesthat he isnotshowing us. There’s nowhere for waste oil. He doesn’thave tire or battery storage areas. He doesn’t break down the high-end vehiclesso he can sell the expensive parts directly off the shelf. I’ve rarely been ina junkyard myself, but even I can see the failings in this setup. It could beso much more than it currently is. I want this business for the club, I knowthat much. This could be a gold mine.

Back at the office, after a whirlwind ‘grand tour,’ I seePsycho waiting for us. I don’t think our host even knew he was missing. We talkfinances for a few minutes, and he’s giving me some ridiculous numbers, bothfor his profits and for an asking price for the business. I soon lose interestin what he has to say and we start to leave.

“If you need to have another look around, or have any otherquestions, I’m here Monday through Friday, nine am to five pm. Don’t hesitate.”Smiling what I suppose is his best smile, then holding his hand out, I turn andwalk quickly away.

Back at the clubhouse, I take Psycho, Porky, and Croc to myoffice for further discussions. I want to know what Psycho did or didn’t find.I’ll be calling church first thing in the morning, so I need some decisionsmade before that, such as are we going forward with it or dropping the idea?

Croc is very animated and obviously likes the idea, as allhe can do is focus on what we should do to improve it. He hasn’t heard anegative that he can’t offer a solution for. For instance, when livingaccommodation is mentioned, he was straight in.

“We should have a three-bedroom trailer put in there tostart with. Us three can share that while we get the place organized and tidiedup. Once the place is properly organized, we can have a decent sized warehousebuilt to stock parts for sale off the shelf. If we go down that direction wecan open up the premises, and then decide on where we live after that. I don’tpersonally see any of us wanting to build on that land and live there. No Ol’Lady is going to want to live in a junkyard and have kids there.”

“We could certainly build a better office near the entranceto make it look more professional. That old ‘cabin’ they have now won’t do forus. That is a fact,” Porky states with conviction.

“You’re very quiet, Psycho. Let’s hear what you think.” Isit back and wait for him to drop the bombshell I’m sure is coming to derailthe idea.

“I’m sure it can be done and made into a damn good earner. Ijust don’t think the timescale is what you’ll want, Pres. Cleaning up theimmediate crap is a going to be a couple of weeks. Organizing and inventory,probably a month after that. I don’t see that there will be a trustworthy stocklist from that ass we met today. There is no organization to the stock that Icould see. They take a car in, stack it up, that’s it. They are not even storedby make. It’s a shitshow in there. They have no waste oil storage or recyclingarea. I think you should approach the mayor and let him know that they aredumping oil into the sewers. Maybe he can use that to force Everard to sellcheap rather than face prosecution?” Raising his eyebrows at me, I see that hemay have something there. “Once we’re past that, then we’ll know where we canput a trailer, for starters, and get the place open for business. I definitelythink we need to have a space for breaking bikes, too.” Psycho leans back tosignify he’s put his two cents’ worth in.

“You’re talking two months, best-case scenario. That’s morethan I was hoping for, I have to say. I don’t like having to wait that long toget the cash coming in, if I’m honest.”

“But look at it in real world perspective, Pres,” Crocstates. “We wouldn’t be having that cash coming in anyway. We’re not talkingabout a massive outlay of cash during those two months. The three of us can doeverything for bed and board. Oil recycling, we just need a ton of emptyfifty-five-gallon drums to start with. We can use the yard crane to reorganizethe stock, so we might have a fuel outlay. I’ll bet some of the stuff in theyard has passed its usefulness, so we can sell it on as scrap. We can sleep atthe club until we clear the space for a used trailer.”

“Okay, I’m sold. I’ll talk to Bank and Pen, see what theycan do with the price. I’ll definitely speak to Grant, too. I think he’ll jumpat the chance to get rid of Richard S. Everard from the edge of town.”

Sunday morning and I’m waiting for the last of the brothersto file in from their breakfast. I have noticed that since Lira took over thekitchen, they all seem much calmer and more relaxed. I guess a full stomachdoes that to a guy. I’ve noticed that more and more of the brothers are hangingaround the clubhouse at meal times.

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