Fast Eddie’s nose was bent to the right, just below the hump, pushed to the side like putty and glowing with tiny capillary explosions. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed, simmering under a sagging brow. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, his tie hung an inch low, and he wore a canary yellow sport coat that was a half size too big for him. His dentures were in surprisingly good shape.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” he said, offering his hand. “Eddie Newman, how you doing?”
I was standing by a ’69 Camaro, an SS like mine.
“You Fast Eddie? The one I’m told makes sweet deals on cars?”
His dentures gleamed. “You’ve heard about me, huh?”
“A nice lady named Carmen told me to talk to you.”
“Carmen Holloway? Works over at the diner?”
“That’s her,” I said.
“She’s a sweetie, Carmen is.”
“What’re y’all asking for the beauty?” I asked, as I strolled down the driver’s side, eyeing the body panels for rust or paintwork.
“She’s a two owner classic, seventy thousand original miles. No body work, ever,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket. He mopped his forehead and put on his sunglasses but they didn’t cool him down any.
“Which makes it worth how much?”
Eddie scratched his nose. "Which to the right buyer, makes it worth around 7K."
"Jeez, that is a sweet deal," I said. "I'll take it."
Eddie leaned in closer and shared his halitosis. "Between you 'n' me, this car used to be mine--I popped Carmen's cherry right in that back seat. That's what she told me, anyway, though I reckon she had a few miles on her tires by then. If you know what I mean."
"Carmen Holloway's my mother," I told him.
Eddie clapped me on the shoulder. "Well why didn't you say so?" he said. "Tell you what, son, I'll throw in an extended warranty and undercoating, and we'll call it eight grand even."
Opening: Wonderwood.....Continuation: Anonymous