Repo Man

This story is based loosely on the song Repo Man by Jeremy Messersmith. It was a school story, so I had to tone it down a bit. It is tagged as religious, but it really isn't. Redemptive is better.

Repo Man

First thing you need to know about me I guess would be my name. Nicholas is what’s on my birth certificate, my friends all call me Nick, but at the “office” I go by a lot of names. Mostly it’s Big Nicky, but a few of the newbies have given me some pretty creative ones. For the Lanchester job, I got the label Hulk-spawn, and at the lift down on 12^th Street I picked up the name Sir Squash-a-lot. I’ve got a few more that don’t settle as pretty on tender ears, so I’m not gonna share them. But you get the point.

I guess you’d call me a pretty hard man. You have to be with the profession I’ve gotten myself tangled in. Don’t mean I’ve got no feelings though. I just don’t let them show much as all. Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking when I took the job in the first place, but it puts food on the table and gas in the tank. Besides, I’m the best they got. I’m not the kind of guy you want mad at you. Six foot eight and arms the size of a decent size bear’s I can be pretty intimidating. I hate it though, the being intimidating. I don’t use it unless we have a really hard customer.

I’ve always thought it odd. The fact that we call them customers. I mean, we’re the ones taking from them. And what do they get? A nice hefty fine and jail time if they get too physical. It’s all just part of the job though, and if you just keep your head up and don’t fight the system nobody gets in trouble.

One thing that surprises people is that I’m a religious man. I go to church every Sunday, don’t matter how late I was out the night before. Truth is the church saved me a while back. I was twisted in a whole mess of stuff. Mainly alcohol, but a few times I tried a little more potent stuff. The stuff and the side effects got me kicked out of college my second semester in. I never went back and finished, which is probably why I’m doing a job like I’m doing today.

I was living with some mates and had next to nothing. We found out that there was some free dinner every Wednesday night at a church a few blocks over, so we walked over. The first couple weeks, we just came in, ate, and left. But after a while we had gotten to know some people, and they invited us to stay. My friends laughed and left, but curiosity got the better of me. I stayed, and I never looked back. I still go on Wednesdays sometimes, just to catch up with my mates. But nothing stops me from coming on Sundays.

That was fourteen years ago, and I’ve been sober ever since.

It was about that same time that I found my current job as a repo man. I needed something to do, and that was the only place that would take me. I guess most people just don’t trust me or something. I look harsh, but really I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Without reason of course. If the fly flew off with a pickle that rightfully belonged to the government, of course I’d pluck its wings off.

I feel like I’m giving the wrong idea about my job. It isn’t BAD. I mean, if it wasn’t right people wouldn’t do it. It wouldn’t be legal, and we certainly wouldn’t be doing it for the good guys. Well, I guess they’re the good guys. They’re the guys I trust. It wouldn’t be a job unless it was good right? Right?

Enough about that though. You pretty much know me now. I’m not pretending to be exciting or nothing. Just a regular guy you know? I didn’t write this to talk about myself anyway. I more wanted to just share a couple days as they come. Show you what the days are like.

Thursday

Thursdays are normally days off for me, but not today. I traded with Ol’ Shotte so that next month I can take a whole week off. I haven’t had a week off in four years. And it isn’t gonna be completely off, cause I’ll be helping with some paperwork. But not having to deal with people for a whole week is gonna be great.

Other than actually having to go down to The Hole today, it’s been pretty normal so far. Got up, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, brewed a fresh pot of coffee and fed Crutch. Crutch is my scrappy mutt that wandered up to my door one day. He’s kinda burly looking, and you can tell he’s gotten in plenty of fights cause of his banged up ears and half shut left eye. But he’s nice to me, and so I let him stay. The reason I call him Crutch is one because when he first showed up he was so beat up he couldn’t really walk right.

One good thing about working repo is that it’s easy to get cheap cars. They may not be great quality, but they get you where you’re going. Mine is an old Dodge. I wasn’t on the job when this one got picked up, and I like it that way. If I had been, I would always feel like I was driving someone else’s car. Then I’d never be able to do anything in it. But this way I don’t feel bad if I get a little ketchup on the seats.

It’s about eight when I finally get to the depot. I nod at the guard. There’s always a guard there in the mornings left over from the night watch. He leaves as soon as a few of us show up. I think that this one’s name is Jack, but I’m not really sure. I don’t ever get close to the guards since I only see them briefly in the mornings. He could be Frank. They all look alike.

I wish this was the part of the story where I told you some amazing story about a hard repossession job that got physical. Sadly today is just a paperwork day. Nobody really ever likes working on Thursdays so we made them strictly paperwork days.

I take my seat and spin my chair to face my desk. It’s about as plain as plain can be. I keep one of those weird shrunken Japanese tree things. It’s supposed to keep me calm and focused or something. The boss makes us all have one. Most guys keep up with theirs. They even have these special scissor things to prune it with. It just seems silly to me. Mine is about a foot wide. I don’t care if it does give me bad “chi” or whatever the hell it is. I’m not going to waste time chopping at a bush.

I guess technically I’m wasting time by typing all this out, but that’s different.

I look over and see a tan folder with some white papers poking out. I close my eyes tight for a second to wake up and flip it open.

I won’t waste your time talking about the financial stuff, and no, I wouldn’t tell you even if it was legal to. At first when I read the names of the people and how bad stuff was going for them, it bothered me. I’m numb to it now. I know it isn’t always the people’s faults if they can’t make a payment, but these people probably have had several opportunities to turn their lives around. At least, that’s what I tell myself. If I can do it, then they should have too. It’s their fault that they’re in this situation.

I know. I don’t really believe it either. But if you don’t have that mindset this job will eat you up and spit you back out.

My eyes hoping for mercy look down at my watch. I let out grunt and try not to run back to the break room. I intend to get as much as I can out of this lunch break. My hand grabs the fridge door and I look to see if I can find my sandwich. Damn. Someone swiped it again.

“Looking for this?” The door slams closed and I’m face to face with one of the rookies. Ralf is his name. I think it might be one of the worst names I’ve ever heard, and he has a personality to match.

“Give it here Ralf. This isn’t funny. You don’t want another Justin case do you?” I see a slight hint of doubt of his situation run across his face, which still has some unhealed stitches from where Justin hit him over the head with a bottle after Ralf stole his Hostess Ding Dong.

“No, but you see Big Nicky, you’re not like Justin. Unlike him, you aren’t gonna hurt me. You’re too holy for that. Got too much of that wacked up preacher man’s talking shoved up your…“ I don’t let him finish. I grab his arm and twist it behind his back hard. My hand reaches and gets the sandwich, and that arm slams down on his neck. The bruise on his head hits the table and he lets out a roar.

“Don’t bring church into this. I’m nowhere near holy.” I move at him, considering teaching him another lesson, but his head is bleeding pretty badly. I sigh and wet a paper towel lying on the counter.

“Here. Press this on your head.” My arm extends but he doesn’t take it.

“Do you have any idea how unsanitary that is? Oh God…” He slumps on the ground and I notice he’s turning white.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. You gotta put pressure on it otherwise you’re screwed. The head bleeds the most.” He eyes me suspiciously, but takes it and presses it on his head.

“I don’t get you Nick. One second you’re beating the crap out of me, the next you’re a freaking nurse.” I laugh, not because he’s funny, but because I honestly don’t understand that about myself. How I am so able to hurt but then don’t want people to be in pain.

“I guess I’m just a complex guy.” I start making him a new makeshift bandage and take off the bloody one. He nods when I hand him the clean one and presses it on his temple.

“Holy… what happened in here?” Our boss, Toby Tobello, the only man over me steps in with a Wendy’s sack in his hand. His heavy Italian accent jerks me back to where I am. This is the first time that I look around, and realize how we must look. Blood all over the table and Ralf hunched over sitting on the floor holding his head.

“Well, Ralf here…”

“Tripped over Nicky’s giant feet. I just popped a stitch or something.” I look at him in amazement. Why is covering for me? He ratted Justin out in a heartbeat.

“Be more careful. You need to go to the doctor?” Ralf shakes his head, and the boss man nods.

“Good. You’ve cost the department enough money as is. I swear I’ve never seen a clumsier guy. But you’re fast at filling out papers.” He looks at the table and makes a face before turning around and walking back to his desk to eat.

“Why did you lie for me?” I make sure that Tobello is out of hearing distance before giving Ralf a questioning look.

“I don’t know. I guess I deserved it is all. Plus,” Ralf shakes his head which seems to make him dizzy. “You’re alright.” I smile and help him to a chair.

“My break is over, but you should probably stay in here for a while. Just in case.” I start walking out the door when he tells me to wait.

“You forgot your lunch.” I start laughing and pick up my sandwich off the counter. I nod at him and walk out of the door. Walking to the desk I realize just how weird that whole situation was. Ralf has always been, well I’ll just say it. He’s a total and complete pain in the you-know-where. I always tried to avoid him, but now… Well I’m just not sure.

I sit back down and open the folder back up. I’ve already looked through our jobs we’ve already done. Now I’m looking at repo jobs coming up. Jefferson Street, 12^th Avenue, Martin Luther King Blvd, all the normal spots. That’s when I pick up one from Gerald Street. That’s on the west side. That’s the street my mom lives on. I frantically start scanning the paper and my heart sink. 12 Gerald Street. That’s my mom’s house.

“Oh yeah, I see you’re looking at the jobs tomorrow. I’m glad that…“ Toby starts.

“This is wrong.” I hand him the piece of paper. “Fix it.” I can’t believe that my mom is somehow mixed up in this. She’s always had money. She tried to help me when I was so screwed up on drugs. She’s smart. I will not believe it.

“No, this is right. Martha Thomas and Jerry Portcullis. Jerry is Martha’s boyfriend. He’s the one that is backwards in debt. They’ve been living at her house for several months now. Or at least that’s what their neighbor said. In all my years I’ve never seen a nosier neighbor. Can you imagine? Calling her just to tell us about their little affair.”

“It’s not an affair. My mom is divorced. She gets scared easy and Jerry just lives there to keep her safe.” I guess I snapped at Tobello, because he gave me a weird look.

“Mom huh? That sucks. Seeing your mom with a loser like that.” Anger is rising up inside me now. How dare he? He doesn’t even know them. Jerry is a good guy. At least when I’m around. “I guess this isn’t the best job for you to take.”

“No I’ll take it.” I grab the paper out of his hands quickly and shove it back into the folder with the rest. “Maybe I can smooth this over easier.” I have no idea the words that are coming out of my mouth. My thoughts feel dizzy, kinda how I expect Ralf is feeling right now. Tobello gives me a look but walks back to his desk. I slam my fist down on my desk and knock the folder onto the floor. I look at the clock. Forty more minutes. I grab everything I finished and walk over to Tobello’s desk.

“I finished everything. Can I leave a little early?” He looks surprised, but nods.

“Get outta here. You don’t look so good.” Well how do you expect me to look? I feel like yelling, or shoving that stupid Japanese bush down his throat, but I just nod and leave. I walk as nonchalant as possible to my car. When I get in I bang my fist into the steering wheel and jam the keys into the ignition. I drive home as fast as I can, and make myself a cup of tea. I sit down on the sofa and Crutch jumps up beside me. I know that you’re not really supposed to let dogs up on the furniture, but Crutch is different. He lays his head down on my lap and I scratch him behind the ears.

“Life’s pretty good for you isn’t it Crutch? God I wish life was that simple for me too. Just walk around, sleep, eat, pee, and get your back scratched. I can only imagine.” I click around on the TV for a while, but eventually just fall asleep. There’s never anything on anyway.

Friday

I wake up normal. I’m on the same couch as before. I brush my teeth normal, and put clean clothes on normal. But today is not normal. Today is the day that I have to repossess my mom’s boyfriend’s car. I know that most people don’t like the guys who date their moms, but Jerry’s always been real good to my mom. I owe him for being there for her all those years I couldn’t be.

I feed Crutch and head out. I figure that this is gonna be my first job of the day, and if it’s not I’m going to try to arrange it that way with Toby. I need to just get this over with. I’ll be fine once this is all over. It’s not like this is going to be a violent repo job. I mean, it’s Jerry. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, that’s a lie. He hates bugs. But he would never hurt a person.

I pull up to The Hole and consider never getting out of the car, but another day another dollar. You can’t mold your life so that nothing unpleasant ever happens. You just gotta live.

I open the door and see Toby suiting up.

“Toby, you’re not gonna need that vest. I promise. Jerry is a nice guy. We’ll be able to get his car and get out of there. I don’t think he even owns a gun.” I try to reason with him, but protocol is protocol.

“Sorry Nick. I know this isn’t going to be an easy one, and you’re gonna be fighting for his cause, but we have to be prepared for anything.” I nod my understanding and take off my shirt to put a vest on under it too. It feels almost surreal. But who knows? Maybe someone will try to shoot me on the way there and I’ll be ready. Ralf rounds the corner and starts pulling his shirt off as well.

“You coming with us?” I ask him.

“Yeah. As long as no one decides to bust my head open again.” I smile at him but move my head to point towards Toby to remind him not to say anything else. The three of us hop in the car and start riding the familiar route to my mom’s house.

“When we get there Nick, I want you to be the one who knocks on the door.” I don’t say anything, but inside I’ve agreed to it. “You hear me?” He shoots me a look that walks a fine line between concern and thinking I’m an idiot.

“Yeah sorry. I heard you. I’ll knock first.” We’re not far now. There’s no more prepping myself. I just gotta do it. We pull up and I hop out of the car. My legs seeming to have a mind of their own, I walk up the front steps. The rest of my body is telling me to turn and run, but it seems my legs have more bravery than the rest of me. I’m almost shocked when my finger rises to ring the doorbell. I hear the ring echo through the house, and the familiarity of the noise is like daggers in my stomach. I look back and see Ralf and Toby sitting on Jerry’s car. Most of the time we would have been off with it by now, but they’re letting me smooth things over first. Before we take the person’s personal property.

“Coming!” My mom yells as she comes to the front door. The door opens just a crack. “Nick! It’s so good to see you!” She pulls the door closed and I hear her unlock the deadbolt. The door flies open and she wraps me up in a big hug. She starts feeling my back, and I realize that she feels my vest. I push her back and she looks at me with a confused expression.

“Mom we need to… Eh-hem. It’s just, er, well Mom… It’s about Jerry. We’re here to repossess his car.” I hang my head at the sound of the words.

“What? There is a mistake. Tell me this is a joke.” She looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“I wish I could. I’m going to need you to go get Jerry.” She gives me another look but goes to get him. He comes to the door and I can tell by his expression he’s already heard the news from mom.

“I’m sorry Jerry, so sorry. But you haven’t been making your payments, and I have to do this.” I look at him looking for understanding, but the sorrow on his face makes me want to scream. He just looks at me, and doesn’t say a word. He tosses something at me, and without thinking I catch it. It’s his keys. I have to look away; I can’t stand to see him sad like this.

“Jerry, you know I don’t want to do this, I can’t…” I try to explain but he cuts me short.

“Just go.” He gives me one more gut wrenching look and walks inside. My mom looks me in the eyes, shakes her head and follows. I walk back down the steps with my stomach twisted inside out. I feel like I need to vomit, or scream, or cry, but I just keep walking. I toss Toby the keys and get back into my car, but this time I take the passenger side. Toby drives Jerry’s car back to The Hole so we can do the legal work, and Ralf hops in the driver’s side of my car.

He starts driving back, and we sit in silence. I don’t feel like talking, and honestly I don’t really feel like listening. The only time we talk is when he starts fiddling with the radio and I tell him it’s broken. I think he understood how bad I just need quiet, and it means a lot that he’d give it to me. He’s normally a chatter box.

We get back to the office and I sit down at my desk. I didn’t really get any work done after that point. I just kinda sit there feeling awful. I’ve seen that look on so many people’s faces, but seeing it on the face of someone you care about is different. The way he looked at me… It was like I was killing every good thing he’s ever known. The shame that he showed haunts me the rest of the day. He has hit rock bottom. He’s had his car repossessed. By someone he cares about. Someone who cares about him.

I don’t really remember driving home, but I remember getting out of the car and walking up to my house. I remember opening the door and getting licked in the face by Crutch. He has no idea who I really am. He knows me as the good man that fills is food bowl. But I saw today, I’m not a good man. I take off my shirt and notice that at some point of the day I took off the vest. There’s no telling what else I’ve done that I don’t know about.

I lie down on the sofa and pray to God with all I have for Him to let me sleep. I don’t want to deal with the images of sadness in my head. Apparently He listened, because soon I drift out of sleep with Crutch’s nose pushed under my hand.

Saturday

I wake up to a knocking on the door. I look at my watch and see that it is a little past noon. Whoever is on the other side of the door is getting anxious, because the knocking gets louder. Crutch starts barking and jumping around.

“I’m coming.” I grab my shirt off the table and pull it over my head. I open the door and to my surprise, I see Ralf standing there with a six pack of beers.

“Hey Big Nicky. I thought maybe I could come over. You seemed pretty upset yesterday, and so I figured…”

“Thanks Ralf. I’m glad you came.” I never thought that he would ever be at my house, and I especially didn’t expect to be happy about it. I step back so that he can come in and sit down. He sits down on the couch and sets the beers in front of him.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?” He asks. He pulls out a drink from the six pack and pulls it up to his lips. He grabs another and offers it to me, but I shake my head.

“Yeah, I fell asleep in it last night. And sorry, but I don’t really drink.” He gives me a weird look, and takes a big swig out of his bottle.

“Why not? You a Baptist or something? Not allowed to even taste alcohol?” He laughs at his own joke, and I have to laugh too.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I used to have a little bit of a problem with drinking and drugs and stuff. So just in case I stay away from the stuff now.” He looks awkwardly at his bottle, like he’s not sure if it’s rude to drink it in front o me or not. “Go ahead,” I say, “Drink all six if you feel like it. I don’t care.”

“Well, cheers then! So what was the deal with yesterday’s job that upset you so bad?” I was hoping we could stay away from this subject, but I still let myself answer.

“That was my mom’s house. She was the woman that came to the door. It was her boyfriend’s car that we repossessed.” He looks at me speechless, like he’s never even considered the fact that this job might get personal.

“I’m sorry man. That’s tough. I had no idea.” Ralf keeps looking at me, like he’s expecting me to explode or something.

“Yeah, not going to lie it’s pretty harsh. I’m gonna have a lot to sort out over this one.” I hope that he takes the hint and figures that I want him to leave.

“Do you want me to stick around or would you rather figure this out on your own?”

“I think I’d rather tackle this one by myself though. Thanks for coming by though.” I stand up and walk him to the door.

“No, it’s fine. Honestly I can’t stand all that stuff about emotions and crap. I was just coming over here to see what you’re like drunk. Guess I’m not gonna be seeing that. Later man.” He laughs, the funniness of his own comments keeping him in stitches until he’s walked to his car. I turn around and walk back in and notice he’s left his beers. I pick them up and run out the door.

“Ralf! You forgot these! Ralf! RALF!” I let out a deep breath and watch him drive away. I walk back into the house and lay back down on the sofa. I slip back into sleep and dream about Jerry and Mom. When I wake up, it’s around four. I realize that I haven’t had anything to eat all day and make some Bagel Bites and open up a bag of carrots. I eat in the kitchen and toss pieces of carrots for Crutch for him to chase.

After I’m done I scoop Crutch a bowl of food and sit down on the couch. I can’t stop thinking about Jerry. How he must be feeling now. If he’s upset, if Mom is okay, if they’re going to be able to get a new car. I look at the table and see Ralf’s beers sitting there. Just one. Surely I could just drink one. Just to calm down. I pull off the cap and breathe the smell in. No Nick. Don’t do this. You can’t handle this. I’m strong enough. I can drink just one. I pull the bottle up to my lips and the bitter taste explodes in my mouth.

I drink about half the bottle and set it down. I put my head in my hands and take a few deep breaths. I pull the bottle back up to my lips and drink more. I can’t stop now. The first bottle is empty, and I’m halfway through my second. I put the bottle down and start shaking. What am I doing? I look back down at it, and bring it back to my mouth.

Sunday

It’s 11:30. Church is over. I roll off the sofa and have the far too familiar taste of alcohol running around on my tongue. I look down on the ground and see five empty bottles.

“Damn it!” I grab the first bottle and launch it across the room where it bounces off the wall. The second at the cabinets, and it shatters. I keep throwing until all of them are broken, and I start weeping. I can’t stop crying as I go out the front door. I run as fast and as hard as I can all the way to church. I probably look like mess, wearing clothes that I’ve been wearing for three days and have slept in twice, my hair still matted and my face unwashed. But I don’t care. I just keep running.

It’s noon when I open the doors to the sanctuary. I’m crying harder now, my whole body shaking. I kneel down in front of the altar and start praying. I pray anything that pops in my head. I pray forgiveness. I pray for healing. I pray that I can make everything right. I pray that I never have to see another look like the one I saw on Jerry’s face. I’m shaking and weeping, and my teeth clatter together while I yell out my prayers.

I sit up and pull my knees into my face, making a wet spot on my pants. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don’t turn around. I just keep wailing. I feel a hand on my back and someone starts praying with me. I turn around and see Jerry looking at me.

“It’s okay. Everything is forgiven.” He grabs me in a hug, and even though I’m several inches taller I start crying on his shoulder.

“Thank you. Oh God, thank you.”