The Grey Van’s Rear Bumper

In about August of 2000 I was sitting at a stoplight at the intersection of River Road and Lee Street in Des Plaines across from the Rock ’n’ Roll McDonald’s. Just me and the dogs, listening to Todd Rundgren’s Something/Anything? on repeat. All of a sudden, WHAM, I got hit in the rear. I put the van in park and killed the ignition. I checked on Schön and Hilde, they were laying down on the floor, Hilde had gotten knocked out of her seat. I got out and headed for the back not knowing what I’d see. I found a beat-up red Ford sedan embedded in my rear bumper. The next thing I saw was a late-20s woman with dark hair throwing herself against the open door and wailing “My husband is going to kill me.” Over and over again.

Through the open door I could hear kids in the back seat howling. I went to the back door and opened it up. I found an infant in a car seat on the passenger side screaming his lungs out and a kid of about 6 on the driver’s side, spurting blood out of his nose all over the place. I looked him over and didn’t see any obvious damage. “Ok, kid, you stay put and I’ll be right back, I promise.” I told him. I jogged to the side door of the van and grabbed the roll of paper towels that we kept handy. Schön was standing guard at the side door and Hilde was at attention in her seat. I jogged back to the kid.

When I got back to the kid, the woman was still wailing. I pulled off a big chunk of paper towel and gave it to him and guided it to his nose and told him to hold it there. I took another chunk and wiped down the back seat of blood. I turned to the mother. “Uh, ma’am?” I asked. She turned towards me and I immediately saw the handprint shaped bruises on each bicep. Then I noticed the black eye coming out from under her sunglasses. “What am I going to do?” she pleaded. “Well, first we see if the car runs, then we think about next steps. We need to get out of here before the cops show up. Are the keys in the ignition?” I asked. She nodded yes.

I got in and started it up. It sounded ok. I pulled the hood release and the hood popped. I got out and raised the hood. Everything looked ok. The only damage was some plastic on the grille got smashed. The bumper took most of the brunt of the impact. I shut the hood, made sure it latched, and got back in to back up the car and put it in reverse and backed it up a foot or so to get it off the van. Then I put it in park and turned it off. Then I got out and addressed the woman again, who had not stopped wailing. I walked up to her and asked “Hey, my name is Scott, what is yours?” “Carla,” she said. “Ok, Carla, here’s what we are going to do,” I said. I took my wallet out of my pocket and looked inside. I had $450 in cash total. Four-hundred-dollar bills and some small bills. I peeled the four hundred-dollar bills out and handed them to her. Her eyes got big as saucers. “Ok, you are going to go home and tell your husband that some guy rear-ended you in a parking lot and he gave you the cash to not call the police,” I told her. “Then you give your husband as much of the $400 as you would like to and keep the rest to yourself. Put it somewhere safe for when you need it. Then he can use what you give him to either fix the car or to buy liquor and cigarettes.”

“How did you know?” she asked me.

“Oh, I know,” I told her.

“Now, get in your car and go home directly. Drive carefully. And take care of those babies,” I told her.

“Wait, Scott,” she half yelled as I walked away.

“Yes?” I turned and asked.

“How can I ever thank you?” she asked.

“By taking care of those babies,” I told her.

“Can I hug you?” she asked shyly.

“Absolutely,” I said, walking back towards her and allowing her to hug me. Tightly. I could feel her shaking.

“It’ll be alright,” I told her. “I promise.”

I got in the van and headed to my 11:00 appointment that I was now late for. Of course, everyone who knew me then knew that I was always between 15 minutes and a month and a half late to appointments on average.

Later that night, well after dark, I went over to New Trier West’s parking lot by the apartment. Spaced in the lot were light posts, all set into concrete foundations. I backed up to one of them, parked the van and got out. I took the 40-foot chain out of the back and wrapped one end around a concrete pillar and attached the other end to the rear bumper. I pulled the van forward until it went taut. Then I backed up about 20 feet ,  put it in drive and stepped on it. Yank! When I got out and looked, I’d barely moved it. I did it about 20 more times until I thought that it  looked ok.

The problem was that under the orange sodium vapor lights it looked one way and in daylight the next morning it looked way different. After dinner I was back at the parking lot for another 20 yanks. This time I realized that the south side of the school had bright white halogen lights, and I could check my progress then. It took a while.

The next morning, in the light of day, it looked presentable. Certainly not as good as a $500 bumper installed new, but it was good enough for government work and the trailer hitch was level. Now I just had to figure out where to come up with another $400 before rent was due next week.