Chapter 20: I Went to Buy a Lift from a Repair Shop That Was Closing Down
Chapter 20: I Went to Buy a Lift from a Repair Shop That Was Closing Down
I woke up feeling unusually refreshed for the first time in a while.
Maybe because I had worked my body so hard yesterday, I actually felt full of energy.
When I looked beside me, the puppy was lying on her bed, staring directly at me while moving only her eyes.
“You could at least make some noise if you’re awake.”
I had no idea whether she understood me, but she stretched her entire body in a long yawn.
At least she seemed to react to the sound of my voice.
“By the way, don’t you need to go to the bathroom?”
I had no idea what she was planning.
Other than leaking a little urine while I was washing her the night before, she had not relieved herself at all.
“Maybe I should take you for a walk...”
Karen had said walks were not really necessary during the initial adjustment period, but even if she was only staying temporarily, she would have to follow my rules while she lived here.
Rrrrrr—
When I raised the warehouse’s roll-up door, fresh morning air and golden sunlight flooded inside.
The sky was still blue, and the weather was clear.
That was the one good thing I had found about living in Arizona.
“Come on. You’re coming too.”
I pulled lightly on the red leash.
Surprisingly, she followed without much resistance.
Of course, she was still uncomfortable with the leash. Even while walking properly, she occasionally raised a front paw and tried to remove it.
Not that it was ever going to work.
Sniff, sniff—
While I spread my arms slightly and let the morning sunlight fall over my entire body, the puppy sniffed the surrounding dirt and grass.
Then she shoved her muzzle toward one particular small rock and released an enormous amount of urine over it.
“...So that’s your bathroom?”
I did not understand the reason, much less what she was thinking.
Still, from my perspective, I was grateful that she relieved herself outside rather than inside the warehouse.
Just in case, I took her on a wider loop around the area.
Sure enough, she also took care of her other business in a patch of low grass.
Did she really not want to go inside the house—the warehouse?
In any case, I brought the puppy, whose steps now seemed much lighter, back inside.
Then I threw myself into online equipment shopping.
The highest priority was an automotive lift.
It was essential equipment if I wanted to continue restoring and customizing vehicles.
The types of automotive lifts that could be installed in my warehouse were two-post lifts, which supported designated points on the chassis, and four-post lifts, which supported the vehicle through the wheels.
(Translator’s Note: Two-Post Lift — A workshop vehicle lift that raises a vehicle from designated lifting points using two vertical posts and adjustable arms. It provides direct access to the wheels, suspension, drivetrain, and underbody.)
(Translator’s Note:Four-Post Lift — A lift that supports the vehicle through its tires on raised runways between four vertical posts. It is frequently used for vehicle storage, inspection, and certain maintenance or alignment applications.)
For my current situation, one two-post lift is enough.
A two-post lift took up less space and was cheaper, so it seemed like the right choice.
The problem was—
“Why is all of this so expensive...?”
Even the cheaper entry-level models cost around the mid-$3,000 range.
Mid-range or semi-professional models easily exceeded $6,000.
I still had plenty of profit left from selling the Mustang and the four Police Interceptors, but I had absolutely no intention of throwing money around carelessly.
There’s no reason to insist on buying new. I’ll look for something used.
I immediately searched Craigslist and found surprisingly many automotive lifts listed for sale.
(Translator’s Note: Craigslist — A U.S. online classified-advertising platform founded by Craig Newmark in San Francisco in 1995. It began as an email list sharing local events before evolving into a website used for housing, jobs, used goods, vehicles, tools, services, and other local transactions.)
Is the auto repair industry struggling too?
As someone who had only just entered the same field, it was a little bitter to see.
One listing in particular caught my attention.
—Closing down. Two-post lift, air compressor, and various automotive repair equipment available. Come inspect in person.—
The listing had been posted by the owner of a repair shop fairly close to my warehouse.
The equipment looks to be in decent condition, and if things go well, I might be able to buy several items at once.
A repair shop preparing to close down and a restoration shop that had only just opened.
It looked like a situation that could benefit both sides.
I immediately called, arranged a meeting, emptied the truck bed, and headed out.
After rattling along in the empty truck for about thirty minutes, I arrived at a small independent repair shop built around a single lift.
Looks like it’s been operating for a long time.
Layers of dust and oil grime covered the walls and floor.
The shop sign had clearly been repainted several times, and its vintage design carried the weight of many years.
“A customer? No, I suppose not. Are you here to look at the lift and compressor?”
An old man wearing faded blue work clothes emerged from the back.
He had a slightly thin build and a full head of white hair.
His complexion and the general feeling he gave off...
It would have been difficult to say he looked healthy.
“Hello. I’m Jason.”
“Earl Donnelly.”
The old man gestured toward the sign reading Donnelly Auto & Machine.
The lettering looked as though it had been painted by hand many years ago.
“You sound much younger in person than you did on the phone. Come this way.”
The old man led me into the workshop.
“This is the lift I put up for sale. Let’s see, the model number should be written here. SPO9. It’s made by Rotary. They really do make good lifts.”
The old man’s voice was dry and cracked, but he was extremely kind.
“Is the hydraulic system still in good condition?”
“Of course. You can test it yourself if you want.”
At his words, I lightly pressed the button mounted on the blue lift column.
Whiiiiir—hiss!
The hydraulic cylinder operated smoothly, with no leaks, strange noises, or vibration.
“Hmm... You were right. It’s in very good condition. You must have maintained it carefully.”
There were patches where the paint had worn away, but functionally, the lift was in excellent shape.
“Right? I mostly used it for half-ton trucks and smaller vehicles. I’ve never put anything like a dually on it.”
(Translator’s Note: Dually — An informal American term for a heavy-duty pickup truck fitted with dual rear wheels, meaning two tires on each side of the rear axle. Such trucks are commonly associated with heavy towing and commercial hauling.)
Deep wrinkles formed around the old man’s mouth as he leaned against the lift post.
An SPO9 is more than enough for me.
Its lifting capacity was slightly lower than the company’s higher-tier SPO10 model, but it was still more than capable of lifting most pickup trucks or muscle cars.
The usual used price ranged from around $1,600 to $2,500 depending on condition.
This one was listed for $1,900, which was somewhere around the middle.
However, that price also included an Ingersoll compressor, so it was clearly a worthwhile deal.
(Translator’s Note: Ingersoll Rand — An industrial equipment name with roots in nineteenth-century American engineering. Simon Ingersoll founded the Ingersoll Rock Drill Company in New York in 1871; later corporate combinations produced the Ingersoll Rand name associated with compressors, industrial machinery, and related equipment.)
“Thank you for the explanation. I’ll buy both the lift and compressor.”
“Thank you. To be honest, I’m closing the shop because my health isn’t very good, so I’m glad someone is taking them this quickly. And knowing that a young fellow is taking these machines makes me feel more at ease.”
His eyes were surrounded by deep wrinkles, but they still retained a clear light.
For a moment, he seemed to look into the past.
“If that’s the situation, would you mind if I looked at the other equipment too?”
“Of course not. I’m keeping the hand tools because I still use them, but you can take any of the other specialized equipment. Since you already bought the lift and compressor, I’ll lower the prices if you take anything else.”
Like the lift, the other tools had been carefully maintained.
Only the surfaces regularly touched by hand had been polished smooth with use.
Otherwise, there were no functional problems.
The old man’s neat personality seemed to be reflected directly in the tools he had used.
While looking around for anything else worth buying, I noticed a car in the back of the workshop covered by a thick cloth.
What kind of car is that?
Even from the outline beneath the cover, I could tell it was not an ordinary vehicle.
Maybe because I started restoration work, this is all my eyes are drawn to now.
I quietly suppressed my curiosity and moved closer.
Then—
[1963 Chevrolet Corvette Coupe (C2)]
(Translator’s Note: Chevrolet Corvette — Chevrolet introduced the Corvette in 1953. The first production Corvette was built on June 30, 1953, in Flint, Michigan, and only 300 were produced during that first model year. The Corvette went on to become one of the defining American sports-car nameplates)
The year and model code of the vehicle sleeping under the cover suddenly appeared in my mind.
...Wait. That’s a Corvette C2? And a 1963 model?
The Corvette was America’s first and longest-running sports car.
If the Mustang was the car young Americans most wanted, then the Corvette was the ultimate sports car that Americans of every age dreamed of owning.
It began with the first-generation C1 in 1953.
The second-generation C2 arrived in 1963, followed by the C3, C4, C5, C6, C7, and now the eighth-generation C8.
The Corvette was, without exaggeration, the pride of American sports cars, capable of competing with many of Europe’s finest.
Among them, the second-generation C2 was the first to use the Sting Ray name, inspired by its ray-like appearance.
(Translator’s Note: The Sting Ray name became associated with the second-generation Corvette introduced in 1963. The model’s flowing, low-slung design established one of the most recognizable visual identities in American sports-car history)
And the first model year, 1963, had something especially distinctive.
Only that single year was produced with the famous split rear window.
(Translator’s Note: 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray Split Window — The second-generation Corvette, the C2, debuted for the 1963 model year. The 1963 coupe featured the famous divided or “split” rear window; this configuration was unique to the first-year C2 coupe and was removed afterward, making the 1963 version especially distinctive and collectible)
At the time, it was criticized as a design flaw because the center divider interfered with rear visibility, and the feature was removed the following year.
Now, however, its rarity made it extremely desirable among collectors.
Why is such a valuable car sitting abandoned in a place like this?
I stood silently in front of it for quite some time.
Eventually, the old man approached and cleared his throat.
“Ahem. So, did you find anything else useful?”
“Ah! Uh... yes. Several things. I’ll take the air impact wrench, the transmission jack, and the shop press too.”
I hurriedly returned to reality as though waking from a dream.
“Will you? Then I’ll take another thousand dollars for the lot.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay cash.”
Since the lift and compressor were $1,900, I had obtained a considerable amount of equipment for a total of $2,900.
Best of all, I had bought it all in one place without having to search endlessly.
The old man offered to help load the equipment into the truck, but I politely refused because I was afraid he might injure himself.
The lift would require professional disassembly and reinstallation anyway, so excluding that, I could move the rest of the equipment by myself.
“A Chevy C1500? Good truck. A 1999 model?”
After I finished loading everything, the old man followed me outside and lightly patted the truck.
“You really have sharp eyes. That’s right.”
“Haha. That’s quite an old truck for a work truck. Don’t put off maintenance. Take care of it properly before trouble starts.”
“How did you know that without even hearing the engine run?”
“Have you heard the saying, ‘The cobbler’s children have no shoes’? People who make their living around cars are all the same. I made a big mistake myself when I was about your age.”
(Translator’s Note: The Cobbler’s Children Have No Shoes — A proverb describing the tendency of skilled professionals to neglect their own needs while providing their expertise to others..)
The old man looked sadly toward the vehicle covered by cloth inside the shop.
“Excuse me, but is the car inside your personal vehicle? It looked like a Corvette C2.”
Honestly, I had not been able to stop thinking about it since the moment I saw it.
“Hm? How did you know when the entire body was covered? Yes, that Corvette belongs to me. It represents the foolishness of my youth and my greatest regret.”
“Your regret? What do you mean...?”
The old man looked at my confused face for a moment.
Then, saying that meeting like this was probably fate, he handed me a small wooden stool and asked me to listen to his story.
“There was a time when I was young like you, with dreams of my own...”
...
...
“One more step forward. Slowly. Careful. Good! You can open your eyes now!”
The man shouted loudly.
His back was straight, his shoulders broad, and most of all, his face was smooth and free of wrinkles.
A young woman with neatly styled brown hair lowered the hands covering her eyes.
“Oh my! What is this, honey?”
The woman jumped in surprise and covered her mouth instead.
“A Corvette. You said it looked incredible when you saw one on the road last time.”
“Then... is this our car?”
“Of course. Well, it doesn’t run right now... but just wait! I’m going to work hard, make money, and restore this car properly. Then the two of us will drive west together.”
At first, the man looked somewhat embarrassed.
But soon, the confidence unique to youth returned, and he proudly puffed out his chest.
Driving west in a Corvette.
At the time, that was a metaphor for freedom to many Americans.
“My goodness. Just hearing you say it makes me happy. I know you can do it.”
The two embraced each other, overwhelmed with emotion.
Dreams and hope for the future rose between the young couple like shimmering heat.
Above them, the freshly painted sign reading Donnelly Auto & Machine seemed to promise a bright future.
Business was not bad.
It was not overwhelmingly successful either, but Donnelly faithfully put food on his family’s table every day.
The Corvette was postponed.
But she never pressured him.
Eventually, they had a daughter.
The result of their love.
Their treasure.
From a young age, she was exceptionally bright, and Donnelly gladly paid for her education.
The Corvette was postponed again.
And once again, his wife never rushed him.
Donnelly did not waste a single day.
Even when the joints of his fingers swelled and oil stained the skin beneath his fingernails black, he never stopped working.
Whenever he saw the Corvette parked in one corner of the shop, it felt as though something pricked his heart.
Still, he would turn away, telling himself,
It’s all right for now. Later. Once things get just a little better.
The day his daughter entered college, Donnelly laughed more than he ever had.
He felt as though he possessed the entire world.
One week later, his wife collapsed.
“The road trip west that we promised to take... I’ll go ahead first. You... come as slowly as you can.”
Those were her final words.
Donnelly stopped smiling.
He felt as though he had lost the entire world.
After his wife died, the man never touched the Corvette again.
No.
He could not.
Time continued to pass.
The man’s proud shoulders eventually sagged.
His eyesight dimmed.
There was hardly a joint in his body that did not hurt.
“Yes. I’ve used this body for a long time too.”
Unlike cars, the human body could not simply have its parts replaced.
As the years passed, the body wore away by exactly the amount of time it had endured.
Donnelly instinctively understood.
His body did not have much operating time left.
He was not afraid.
Soon, perhaps, he would be able to see her again.
In some ways, he even looked forward to it.
There was only one thing.
“I’m sorry... so terribly sorry... that I couldn’t keep our promise. When we meet in heaven, I’ll apologize to you again.”
The Corvette had stood there for nearly fifty years.
It was the only promise he had made to his wife.
And the promise he had failed to keep.
It remained lodged in his heart like a thorn.
...
...
“I don’t know how I ended up this old... or how much time I have left. But shouldn’t I bring that car back to life with my own hands before I leave?”
The old man turned toward me and spoke softly.
My throat tightened, and I could not answer immediately.
“Still, thanks to you buying all this equipment, I finally have enough money to restore it. Hahaha.”
That was impossible.
There was no way restoring a Corvette like that would cost only a few thousand dollars.
The old man obviously knew that too.
Money was not the only problem.
Even at a glance, his body had weakened considerably.
Enough that he was closing the repair shop he had operated for fifty years.
The idea that he could completely restore that Corvette alone was unrealistic.
I sat quietly on the stool and took a sip of the coffee he had given me.
Even then, my eyes remained fixed on the Corvette beneath the dust-covered cloth.
This isn’t something I should interfere with.
And yet my body refused to move, as though my backside had been glued to the old wooden stool.
A C2 will be difficult to source parts for. Sellers will be able to name whatever price they want. And if it’s been sitting that long, there’s probably almost nothing on it that still works. Please, at least let the frame be intact.
I did not know why I was calculating all of this.
But while I did, one thing became absolutely clear.
“...Sir. Let’s restore this Corvette together.”
If I walked away now, I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life, just like the young Donnelly had.