“What do I look like—your secretary?” asked Parsons.
Ben was taken aback, until Parsons started laughing.
“Got you!” he said. “It’ll be fine. Daniel will be glad to look at your car. Any friend of mine is a friend of his. Let’s just pretend that you’re my friend.” He laughed again, this time loud enough to draw stares from other patrons in the café.
Ben decided that it would be worth a visit to this philosophical mechanic, if only to see what kind of man could cause this kind of transformation in a man like old ‘Parsnips’. He took the directions, and agreed to meet at 10:00 the following Saturday in Wakefield, home of Webster’s Auto Repair.
Chapter 3: Websters’ world
Ben sat across the desk from Max Farley, his lifelong friend and business associate.
“It was definitely old Parsnips,” explained Ben. “I’m not sure whose body he was in, but it was him. Forget everything that you remember about him, Max. People can change, and this guy has proven that in a big way.”
Ben and Maxwell Farley had been close friends since the sixth grade. They spent five years together at Confederation High School under the supervision of one of the sternest vice-principals ever hired by the Ottawa school board. Parsons was a natural leader who commanded respect. He expected his students to put the maximum effort into every endeavour. The results spoke for themselves: the school was regarded as one of the finest in the province for academic and athletic excellence.
Ben’s scholastic accomplishments were the result of dogged determination and hard work, much of it inspired by VP Parsons. He learned that he would have to work twice as hard as more academically gifted students, but that didn’t bother him. The final result was all that mattered. But it was a different story when it came to physical activity—Ben was a naturally gifted athlete who excelled at every sport in which he participated. His academic excellence, top physical conditioning and athletic prowess made him one of the most popular students on campus.
Ben’s high profile on campus was in stark contrast to that of his best friend, Max Farley, a brilliant student who was more comfortable in the library than on the track. The extent of Max’s exercise consisted of strolling through the stacks in the library. His sharp intellect and dry wit were housed in a frail physique. Parsons had no complaints about Max’s academic achievements, but he felt that a student should be “well-rounded”, and continually urged him to join an extra-curricular activity.
When Max joined the drama club as a stagehand, Parsons considered it a coup; when Max pulled out at the last minute and convinced Ben to fill in for him, the vice-principal couldn’t contain his disappointment and anger. With only one rehearsal under his belt, Ben was thrown into the infamous scene change that earned him the tagline, “I’m still waitin’, Dayton”. Ben and Max moved up several notches in Parsons’ black book and held their positions for the remainder of their high school years.
“Did he ask about me?” Max wondered. “Are you sure he knew it was you?”
“No, and yes, to answer both of your questions.”
“Ben, why the sudden interest in your health, your high school vice-principal and an auto mechanic from Wakefield? This sounds like the plot for a cheesy B-movie. Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Max knew Ben well enough to know that there had to be more to this story. And Ben knew Max well enough to know that he couldn’t hide very much from him. So he left nothing out when he told Max about his health concerns, his visit to the doctor, and the disturbing test results. When he finished, Max sat back and let out a long, slow whistle.
“This sound pretty serious, Ben. Are you sure you want to spend your time with a mechanic named after a dictionary? Shouldn’t you be spending more time with your doctor? Wouldn’t it be better for you to get a prescription instead of an oil change in Wakefield? We need you around for a few more years, Ben—at least until we make our first million.”
If humour was the glue that cemented Ben and Max’s friendship in the early years, it was the exhilaration of starting and launching a high-tech company that kept it going. In his final year of university, Max developed a computer program that would revolutionize the world of sport, an irony that was not lost on anyone who knew him. But even the most innovative invention needs to find its way to the marketplace, and Max knew that Ben had the business acumen and personal connections to make his invention a success. By the time they were thirty years the future of their company looked very promising.
“Frankly, Max, I’m not sure what to do. I only know three things for sure: one, I am in rotten physical condition; two, I have to change my lifestyle if I’m going to survive long enough to make our first million; and three, when I left my doctor’s office I had the most unlikely encounter imaginable, and it resulted in an offer of a way to change my life. You know me, Max—I don’t believe in omens and that kind of stuff, but this is just too weird to ignore. It can’t hurt. I mean, my car is due for an oil change, anyway. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Me?” asked Max, incredulous. “You want me to spend my Saturday morning with old Parsnips? That would be worse than a weekend detention. Besides, I’m in good shape. Seeing that old guy might be bad for my health.”
“Max, look me in the eyes and tell me when was the last time that you exercised. Do it with a straight face.”
“Hey, you don’t need to exercise to be healthy. I read somewhere that every human being has a finite number of heartbeats, and then they die. If you exercise too much, your heart beats faster, and you actually run the risk of dying sooner.”
“I repeat, Max, look at me with a straight face and tell me that you really believe that.”
“Only after you look at me with a straight face and tell me that an auto mechanic from Wakefield can help you stay healthy to a ripe old age.”
“OK, Max, let’s cut this out. What’s the worst that can happen? We drive to Wakefield, grab some breakfast, and I get an oil change. What’s the problem? Is it because you’re afraid of Parsons?”
“Afraid of him? Are you kidding? I was never afraid of him—I just didn’t like his style. I don’t mind meeting him again. Sure, I’ll go to Wakefield with you. To tell you the truth, I can’t wait to see what this mechanic looks like.”
“Saturday it is. I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”
“OK, but promise me one thing, Ben,” said Max.
“Maybe. What is it?”
“Promise me that you won’t go to your barber for advice on investing in mutual funds.”
“Very funny, Max. See you on Saturday.”
*****
Ben and Max turned onto Phoenix St., a wide boulevard in a residential section of Wakefield. Max spotted a sign indicating that they were on a cul-de-sac.
“This can’t be right, Ben.”
“It isn’t, Max. It’s left. Didn’t you notice which way I turned?”
“I mean, it can’t be on this street. Where could an auto mechanic’s shop be located in this neighbourhood?”
“Hopefully on 112 Phoenix St., unless old Parsnips has led us on a wild goose chase. There it is, last house on the right, according to my instructions.”
“I think you’ve been had, my friend. I think Parsnips is finally getting revenge for all the grief you caused him in high school. He’s probably back in Ottawa sucking on a grapefruit and laughing.”