I scanned the remains of the overgrown ruin that somebody once used to live in. In happier days. The rusted gate was jutting out at a crazy angle. Not open, not closed, but judging from the pathway worn around it, nobody seemed to care. Under the tangle of trees I spotted a familiar bulge. A beautiful bulge. I was strangely drawn to it, I had to see more, my pulse quickened.
Willem was sitting on a pile of bricks, his once blue overall smeared with grease and dirt, his red face weathered and battered. His dirty hands cradled a Castle quart. He was far away, his bleary eyes studied me for some time...ja seun, wat kan 'n man nou doen, die fo-en bank gan niks by my vat nie, ek verkoop als. Wat soek jy? I have come for the beetle said I, realising that this was most surely a mistake, judging from the appearance of her owner. I imagined that he must have abused her terribly.
Indeed she was a sad, forlorn sight. The result of years of neglect, eyes gouged out, moss growing on her. “Take me home kind sir” She was messing with my mind. I opened the door. I looked with the eye of faith, seeing the unseen below years of accumulated dust and dirt. She still had the unmistakeable feel of a beetle, yes, even the smell of a beetle. I got the jack out of my car, got her up on bricks, checked underneath. Mmm, surprisingly little rust, chassis quite sound, not rusted through under the battery. The wheels spun freely. How was my wife going to react to this unannounced newcomer? I realised then that I had already made up my mind, I was already considering the consequences.
Give me 2 ½ and you can take the rest as well, Willem's blackened finger nail pointed at the windowless and door-less ruin that once had been the garage. Inside I found a spare bonnet, fenders, (sadly no headlights), 3 Smiths wheels chromed, complete with the centre caps (one brand new Velocity tyre), boxes of spare parts and lo and behold, the engine. I gripped the flywheel, it turned, wow!This was it, my heart was pumping just like when I was a little boy on a treasure hunt. I raced home to raid my money box, rent a trailer and was back and had her loaded before Willem had cracked the next quart.
Willem's hands shook as I counted out the 2 1/2K. I asked for the papers. He turned towards the house, that was no longer a house. It was then that he remembered that the papers had been in the drawer of the sideboard that had been sold. Sorry. No papers, oh dear.
This project has all the makings of a real challenge, lets hope that I am up to it. And my thoughts are with you Willem. Maybe one day when she is all nice and clean and proud again we will go and look for you...for old times sake.
