A/N
My bad excuse for not updating at all, in December is that every student at my school had to write this BIG report that determines if we can graduate this Summer. This resulted in all of us being completely exhausted when we were done.
This is partly why this chapter is so short. Another reason is that it was originally much longer, so I split it into 2 chapters instead (the other part is getting comma checked now). The last reason is something my family talked about Christmas Eve. I'll talk about that at the end.
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"What do you mean, you won't fix it?" I yelled, frustration evident showing in my voice.
The mechanic wiped some oil off on his uniform before he looked at me. "Kid, the motor got fried, and it needs new parts. Do you think you can pay for that?"
Yeah, about a day after my encounter with the German police officer, my car began smoking like crazy. It jittered before white smoke emerged from under the hood until all I could see in front of me was a blurry, steaming haze.
After parking at the side of the road, I stepped out to look at the problem and heard there was this weird almost sizzling sound coming from the motor. When opening the hood I was meet with white, hot steam which was bad enough all on its own, but when looking back at the car, I found the inside of the vehicle was beginning to overflow with white, blurry smoke as well.
I wasn't exactly an expert on cars, but I was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to do that.
Trying to keep calm and not let frustration get the better of me, I contacted the closest roadside service and got picked up about half an hour later by a guy who would drive me to a mechanic. 30 minutes after that, I was dropped off in Huis ter Heide, where my car should be repaired, but the mechanic refused to work on it.
The man had used some time to look at the vehicle before he declared it was too damaged from overheating, which meant the whole thing would be a lost cause for me.
I glanced over at my car that had multiple parts taken out to make it easier for the mechanics to look at it, and I still thought it probably wasn't that bad and that the man just overexaggerated the situation. "What parts are we talking about?"
The mechanic rubbed his chin and hummed thoughtfully. "The water pump is no good-"
I looked back at the man who listed what was wrong with the machine "One thing? I should be able to pay for that."
"-thermostat, radiator-"
"... okay."
"-the coolant flush and hose are busted-"
"Eh, please stop now."
"-and the engine oil needs to be changed as well."
I gave him an are-you-kidding-me look, "Is there anything that works?"
He began chuckling a bit, "The airbags, but I guess it's not what you meant."
Resisting the urge to send him an angry glare, I tried to come up with a resolution to the problem since there was no way I would be able to pay for all that and make it at least a week without a job or a place to stay. Getting rid of it was the only logical option I could come up with even if walking would slow me down A LOT, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. Then an idea dawned on me, "Would you like to buy it?"
The mechanic gave me a look as if I was crazy, and let me guess; you think the same, don't you?
"There are still parts that work, right? You can use it as a spare time project. Don't tell me you don't have some cars you guys are fixing up when you are closed," I said with a knowing tone of voice. It was a long shot, but if he denied my claim, then this would have been the first mechanic I had ever encountered who didn't do stuff like that as a hobby.
The man rubbed his chin in consideration for what felt like an eternity before he finally began nodding in agreement. "You got me there, kid."
"I'm not a kid." I thought irritated.
"So, what do you wanna sell it for?"
"Oh, uh, how much will you pay?" yeah, I had no idea how much I should take for the wrecked machine.
He eyed the car for a moment, "4.000 euros, give or take."
I took out my phone and checked how much that would have been in my currency, but got more than just a little agitated when I found the answer. "4.000 euros? That's less than half of what we paid for it-"
"You aren't getting 10- or 8.000 if that's what you are hoping for, not when it's in that condition."
He had a point. I may have needed to get rid of the car, but I didn't want to cheat him. "How about 6.000?" I suggested.
The man shook his head no. It was too much. "5.000."
"5.500?"
"Deal."
We shook hands on the deal and arranged it so there would be sent 5.500 euros to my account. It sucked I had to sell the car, but it wasn't the end of the world. Besides I had planned on selling it when I was done in England anyway.
Now, no more complaining but more moving. After checking up on the route I had to walk to Amsterdam, I found out it was a nine-hour travel and that distance didn't get any shorter by itself, so it was best to get going.
"Hey, kid! Wait up" I heard the mechanic call after me.
Ignoring the "kid" comment, I stopped up in front of the door to the outside and waited for the man to catch up to me. He had something white, paper-like in his hand and when he came closer, I realized it was an envelope.
The mechanic handed me the envelope as though it was mine, "You forgot this in the glove compartment."
Confused, I took the envelope and looked it over. I had emptied that compartment the day before leaving home, so this shouldn't have been there.
Turning it to the front, there was written "Birthday gift" in a weird, twisted handwriting.
"Huh, apparently the freeloader left me a present. Sad I have to wait a year before I can open it." I swung my bag off of my shoulders and put the envelope in a notebook. "Thank you for giving it to me," I said and took my leave. "Goodbye."
"Dag," the mechanic said and turned back to continue his work.
I stopped up again. "Come again?"
"'Dag' means 'goodbye' in Dutch," the man explained.
"Ahh, eh, dag," and with that, I began my long walk to Amsterdam.
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Just a quick heads up, this next part is more aimed towards those who are students and who (for one reason or another) get extra time in their tests/finals (or know someone who does). If you are not in this 'situation', then this may bore you, so just skip it.
Have a nice day :)
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This Christmas we talked a bit about my cousin who's diagnosed with dyslexia and because of that, he got the offer to get extra time to his finals, but he keeps on turning it down because: "he will stand out compared to his classmates". A part of me wishes I could tell him how idiotic he is by not accepting something that is supposed to put him on equal footing as the rest of his class, but I can't.
I don't have dyslexia, but something else that also gives me the "extra time" offer, and I hated it at first. I felt like it was cheating since I had never needed it before, and suddenly I could use more time on the same test everyone else took, just because a man in a laboratory coat had written something in my medical records. Bullshit. Even got into a discussion with my parents because of it.
The difference between me, and him, however, occurs with the fact, I accepted the fact, I needed the extra minutes. Comparing the results of some tests from before, and after I got sick, the differences were far too obvious for my liking, so I chose to bite my stubbornness in me and agreed that if 30 minutes more was needed to put me on equal terms with the others, then so be it.
Besides, he's wrong about one thing. He doesn't want to be singled out because of extra time, but I have never experienced that. I have never been the only one who got extra time. There have always been others from my class or other classes and not all of them were because of dyslexia.
What do I want to get out of this? Simple. If you, for some reason, are qualified to get extra time for your tests/exams, then accept the offer. The likelihood that you are the only one in your class/year group is minimal, and the only person you cheat by saying no is yourself. The reason you get the offer is not to put you on display, but to help you.
I can only give this advice. It's entirely up to you if you want to use it or not.