Free Gith by Chris Else Page A

wouldn't start and the diff was shot. There
were no spares either. Scotty reckoned we could get it for next
to nothing and, if it was decently restored, it would be worth
maybe fifteen grand. He'd seen the same model selling on the
classic car websites for 6000 pounds or more. Michelle had
her doubts about the whole thing but she figured if it was
coming out of my money it would be okay. So Scotty and
I borrowed a tow-truck from a mate of his and went up to
the valley and brought it back. The tyres were stuffed but the
bearings seemed to be all right and we managed to roll it into
the garage at my place. We stood there looking at it, trying to
figure out what the hell we'd got ourselves into.
    The Riley turned Gith's life around. Mine too. I started
working on it weekends and it wasn't long before she got to
coming out and watching me. She must have remembered the
Miramar days. At first she got in the way a fair bit, looking
over my shoulder and making moves like she wanted me to
show her things, but I didn't mind because there was such a
change in her. The curling up and the meltdowns were gone
when we were working on the car, and she started to smile for
the first time. After a while she started to do a few things. The
whole car had to be stripped down, cleaned and gone over
to see what state it was in. She didn't have the strength for
some of the work but she went nuts over the details, soaking
and brushing and polishing something over and over again.
Sometimes she'd just keep going like a crazy thing until I had
to make her stop.
    In the end it got so that Gith wanted to work on the Riley
all the time. On weekdays, when I was at work, she would get
more and more pissed off. I tried telling her how to do things
while I was gone but this was tricky because she could only
handle the simple stuff and the jobs soon ran out, leaving her
more pissed off than ever. Freda didn't like it, anyway. She
said it wasn't safe for Gith to be on her own and she didn't
know anything about cars herself so she didn't know what
was dangerous and what wasn't. It was winter and the garage
was pretty cold and draughty. Keeping an eye on Gith out
there was not a patch on doing it in the nice warm living
room. According to Freda, Gith should stick to the easy
kinds of occupational therapy — knitting or basket-weaving
or whatever it was that they did in the classes Freda took
her to once a week. Gith wouldn't have a bar of it. She was
crazy about the car and would throw a fit if she couldn't get to
it. From Freda's side, then, nothing had changed. In fact the
curling up and the meltdowns were worse than ever when she
was around.
    In the end it seemed like there was only one way through. I
bought Scotty's share in the Riley, quit the job at Finch Street
Auto and became Gith's official caregiver. The Health Board
gave us an allowance and we got a bit more money from
the trust. Michelle thought the arrangement was weird
and she wasn't happy about the loss of income but she
could see that it was the only way to get some peace in the
house.
    'We should never have taken her on,' she said one night
when we were in bed.
    'But we have.'
    'Yes, I guess so. But why?' She sighed. 'I mean, we're only
young. Twenty-four. Why should we be saddled with that?'
    'I don't mind.'
    'No. You don't.' That's the trouble, she might have added,
but she didn't need to.
    'And I worry, you know?' she went on. 'What if she gets
loose or something? What if some bloke gets hold of her and
knocks her up? Then we'd be into abortions and things — or,
worse still, have a baby on our hands.'
    'She can go on the pill.'
    'Oh God. Would she remember to take it? Maybe we
should get her tubes tied.'
    I couldn't believe that. I didn't know what to say. I started
to boil. 'For Christ's sake, she's not a bloody animal. You talk
like she's a dog or a cat that you can just get fixed.'
    'She may as well be for all the use she is.'

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    THE TE KOHUNA Annual Show is always on the first
Sunday in