"Let me tell you a story about a man named Ned"
Many of the stories I tell have characters that appear often and because of our antics we have become close friends. I feel fortunate that I was able to continue to make close friends as I got older and I truly hope that I can continue to do so throughout the rest of my life. Writing these posts about them may seem counter-intuitive to keeping them as friends, but let me emphasize that one of the common denominators among my friends is a thick outer shell.
Ned is
one of those characters. He has had many
nicknames over the years, most of which just suited the situation of the day,
and then stuck for years.
“Garlic-nickel Ned”, as he would eat either a garlic or pumpernickel
bagel; ”9 and ½ Ned”, as he lost the top half of his right hand index finger
on a table saw; “Ned of men”, as he looks a little like a lumberjack; and “Edmund IV”, when he was acting like a kingly
ass. His real name mimicked that of an Australian criminal/hero who had a movie
named after him.
Whatever we called him, Ned has played
a role in many stories of my life. I am
not qualified to adequately detail all that is wrong with him, but over the
years I think I have put in enough time to tell you what is right about him. First thing you
notice is that he is tall and lean with an athletic and strong build. He has reddish hair when he lets it grow past
a tight brush cut or lets the beard go unshaven. His thick brow and serious
glare make most people a little uncomfortable approaching him and as a general
rule this fits nicely with his desire to avoid people. A professional might say he had a derivative
of one of those “attention-deficit” issues. Ned lends credibility to these
theories by speaking in fragments of multiple conversations all at once. Sadly
I can always understand him and I do not know if this says more about his
communication skills or my inability to listen for long periods.
Because
he knows himself he is prone to speaking with great efficiency and
in short bursts. Unlike “Van”
there are times when Ned feels comfortable enough to let down whatever guard he
using and shows a bit more of himself. For many years he used to call me around
5:30 AM at work, knowing I was there alone to ask if I needed anything from
the store. I would like to note that this in no way diverges from his
personality. You see, he would be coming
from the gym, where he had just showered after his 4:00 am morning run. There is a grocery store between the gym and
the parking lot behind my store where Ned works. See? Very
efficient. He wasn't going out of his way
but knew that if he was there and coming here he could save on the overall
energy output of the neighborhood.
Ned was
also an “off hour” guy. You would think
he was an 85 year old grandfather as he woke up at 3 a.m. and was usually in
bed by 9 p.m. I always knew if I needed something in the
middle of the night he was the go to guy.
Not because he wanted to help, but because he wanted something to do at
that hour as he was usually awake. The opposite was true any time after about 7
p.m.
Over
the years Ned and I found each other drinking at the same establishments around
the same time and this served to enhance a budding friendship. One year we both found ourselves in minor car
accidents (not alcohol related, by the way) on each other’s birthdays. This had led to a mandatory phone call every
year stating “Hey, it’s my birthday, be careful driving.”
One
afternoon I was home resting after work and I got a phone call from Ned. He was calling to ask me for a ride from
work. This was a very odd request as he
usually planned any car repairs or other needed assistance early in the
morning. I told him “sure” but asked him
if something was wrong. I gathered what had transpired by listening to a conversation he was having with a police
officer. His car was stolen at work and he was currently filling out the
paperwork with a cop in the parking lot at his place of employment. Ned was audibly shaken and I could tell it
had more to do with how this might interfere with the tight schedule in the
following days.
I
headed right over to the parking lot and found him just finishing up with the
police officer (efficient again). I
pulled up and he got in the car and I just looked at him. I wanted to see how he was doing and evaluate
the situation. He was still shaken but
most people wouldn't notice the difference. We
waited a minute or two as the police cars were pulling out of the parking lot.
It was about 5 in the afternoon on a fall day and the weather was chilly but
cooperative for the time of year. Ned
drove a older Chevy Astro Van. It was
between a minivan and a traditional box van and he treated the back of it like a pickup truck. It was full of things he
might need over the next week including his golf clubs, spare clothes,
and a cardboard box with the most recent liquor store purchase. I can only assume this was one of the
reasons his van was targeted by the thieves as it certainly wasn't for its
resale value. However after further inquiry I learned that he usually left a set
of keys in the van locking it with a remote. It is quite possible he forgot to lock the
car and the thieves had easy pickings that afternoon.
Now
that he unwillingly told me all of this I asked him what he wanted to do
next.
He looked at me and was still uncertain about his immediate
plans and those for the next day. “I
guess I’ll just go home.” I paused as I contemplated other options - possibly a beer, a rental car, or calling the insurance
company. However what came out of
my mouth was very uncharacteristic of me, but made complete sense at the time. “Let’s go get your van.”
Ned
looked at me with confusion and I knew he was honestly startled. “We both know this neighborhood pretty well
and I’ll bet we can find your van.”
“But, ah. . . , what, ah. . .”
“C’mon,” I said. “We will just drive around for a bit and see if we can spot it.” I knew he was coming around when that furrow brow of his starting meeting the course hair line of his brush cut.
“But, ah. . . , what, ah. . .”
“C’mon,” I said. “We will just drive around for a bit and see if we can spot it.” I knew he was coming around when that furrow brow of his starting meeting the course hair line of his brush cut.
Neither of us knew what we would do if we found the van, but I was
certain we were both smart enough to figure it out if it happened. We zig-zagged the streets of that neighborhood
for about 25 minutes honestly believing we would see the van. At first we had the exuberance and confidence
of two twenty something’s. The type that has no rational backbone and a belief they own the world, but quickly our
spirits started waning like the old men we had become. The sun started setting as the evening approached and our motivation started setting as well. Ned turned to me and suggested we call it a
day and head home.
As it happens in the movies, just as we
had given up Ned spotted his Astro van
driving down one of the side streets.
Now the chase in on. Well, not
really a chase but more of a nervous following that never exceeded the speed
limit. I am pretty sure the guy driving
Ned’s van had no idea we were behind him until he pulled into a driveway and
was staring us down. Ned wanted me to
pull into the driveway and block him in.
This was an idea that didn't sit well with me and so I drove right by to
the end of street. I thought I was being
stealth, but I think they made me. I
convinced him to call the police to let them know we had a visual and hope
they would come to take care of the dirty work. After all, if we were
successful in retrieving the vehicle it was still listed as stolen. What do you do then? Call the police and say
“Oh, never mind, they returned the car”?
What
started out as two out of place guys cruising around an area looking for a
stolen car was now a multi-car, multi-phone call, full access search for an old
piece of crap van loaded with easily hocked items in a below average
neighborhood. The police would call
Ned. We would call them. They spotted it
here. We spotted it going down that street. I am telling you, it was just like
an episode of Adam-12. I could see
that Ned was getting more excited and nervous as the calls would come in, or
when we would catch a glimpse of the car going the other way on a perpendicular
street.
After
about 10 minutes, we got a call from one of the cops that said they had the
guys and the van and gave us the street name.
We found the action about 2 blocks away only to find the street blocked
off by one police car. Two other cars blocked the way of Ned’s van that was
angled on the grass of some unsuspecting home.
Two “gentlemen” were face down on the grass with their hands cuffed
behind their backs. I stopped the car
and Ned jumped out of the car and started running full steam towards the
action. I have never seen before, or since, a look that intense and without
control on Ned. The cop that was
handling the perimeter saw him running and unclipped his gun and assumed a
stance that indicated he was about to pull his weapon and started shouting at
Ned. The screaming must have lightened
the intensity in Ned’s brain as he started to come down a bit. The cop kept his body in front of Ned’s with one
arm extended and an open palm following his chest. A few other cops were making their way
towards this new action and by now I had gotten out the car and was trying to
calm him down.
Things
were escalating for less than a minute, but plenty of damage can happen in that
short amount of time. As things became
clear Ned was no danger the atmosphere was much calmer. We hung around while the police put the guys
in the back of the police car and cleared the area of onlookers. The police asked Ned to look through the van and
let them know what he thought was missing.
It seems that someone had been driving around selling off the contents
and maybe stayed out on the sales trail for one stop too many. The liquor was still in the car which made
Ned very happy. I am not sure how this happened, but after the
onlookers dissipated and the accused was taken away the police let him take his
van from the scene. A few years later,
Ned had the same van stolen again (from his driveway this time) and when it
turned up days later he wasn't allowed to take it with him.
Ned
and I drove away from the scene in our respective cars after all the excitement
had died off. We decided we should
celebrate with a drink and regale in the story of being heroes that day. We would relive the events of the last two
hours and the people would rejoice. When
we retold the story, not even the bartender (who has a financial interest in
acting concerned) showed any interest in our actions. Ned and I had a few
drinks with the remnants of our busted balloons. Our excitement waned, the sun
set, and we went home. Like nothing happened.
We both got up for work the next day and Ned called me at 5:30 am and
asked me if I needed anything at the store.
Love it! This sounds like a story that my husband or father would be involved in.
ReplyDeleteKnowing Ned, I am not suprised by this story. I am suprised that it took so long for me to hear [about] this story.
ReplyDeleteI already love John Vito. Man, he really does "get" Ned!! One question- did the punks get Ned's clubs!
ReplyDelete