A boy was blown to bits in Viet Nam. One moment he was there - next he was a reddish mist that hung in the air a good minute before dissipating.
When that happened a car in Idaho became ownerless. The car sat in a field behind an old farm house. The boy's mother leased out the field for grazing but the car remained for fifteen years until a neighbor kid came by and asked if he could buy the car. The boy did not know and never knew its history. The woman sold the car to the boy for seventy dollars and when it was gone she wept at the sight of the empty place in the field and she remembered her son walking away from the car for the last time so long ago. Then she stopped crying and was glad another boy would have a chance to fix the car and drive it.
When the boy got the car towed to his own yard he realized he'd bitten off more than he could chew. He sat in the car and brooded on the devastation. Then he began to clean up the interior which was full of dead weeds that had grown up through the floor. When he saw the mouse nest on the passenger side floor he reached down to destroy it.
A mouse jumped out of the nest shouting ``Leave our home alone! What are you doing here? Leave us alone!''
``Are you talking to me?''
``Who else would I be talking to?''
``But this is my car. I bought it. I''m going to fix it up!''
``Oh really?'' the mouse sneered, ``you have a big job ahead of you! Where will you start?''
``Well I put in a new battery. The left rear turn signal still works.''
``That's an achievement,'' said the mouse. ``Tell you what, I know this car really well. I can help you, but you'll have to let my family stay in our home. And you need a manual. Call Powells Technical.''
The boy agreed and he and the mouse set to work. The mouse wasn't much help getting the engine pulled, but he was invaluable in tracing the wiring harnesses.
It was two years before the car was drivable, and even then it was far from safe. The boy put all his spare money into the car, and he drove it all through high school and college and law school. More than once he had to shout at people who wanted to destroy the mouse nest.
``The mouse stays!'' he would roar.
He married and did well for himself in this world. He no longer drove the car. He had an Explorer, his wife an Acura. The old car was parked in the two car garage, a small but unremitting pool of oil accumulating under it. He had not conversed with the mouse or his descendants in years.
When they decided to move into a gated community with many regulations his wife insisted the car could not go with them. The car was not a collector's item. It was a rolling pile of junk. They decided to donate it.
In the Goodwill parking lot the man sat for a moment, the keys in his hands for the last time. He thought of all his young years when this car had made all things possible. Love, work, school, food, sleep. All the things that count. He sniffed at the faint remaining smell of Christmas tree deodorizer and mouse then he reached down to touch the nest on the floor. It crumbled away in his hand.