Life Clip Number Four: A Cousin with a Check

There is nothing humorous about this "life clip." Since this is a telling tale no real names are used. This is one of those things in life I would just as soon forget since it changed something in my life--trust in people and a possible friendship with a relative. Occasionally, when I think back to the days when I owned the "little red Ford" this incident comes to mind.

One warm spring Saturday morning I received a call from a cousin who didn't live far from me. After our greetings Jim, my cousin, asked, "Are you going into Spokane today?"

"I wasn't planning to," I answered. Spokane was a good thirty minute drive away.

"Would you like to?" Jim asked.

"I don't have the money to do that."

"I do," he replied.

"You do?" That surprised me since his family didn't have a whole lot of money and he didn't have an after school job or any other way of making money.

"Yeah," he said. "My dad has given me some money. So I'll pay for gas and everything else."

"All right." That was a good deal. "I'll have to change my clothes then I'll come pick you up in about half-an-hour."

"Great," Jim said. "See you then."

I got ready and jumped into my pickup and drove to his place. Jim stepped out of his house before I came to a complete stop, stroll to my pickup and got in the second the wheels quit rolling.

"Let's go," he said.

"What do you want in town?" I asked as I steered the little red Ford out of the drive.

"Nothing in particular," he said. "I just want to get off the farm for a bit. I might buy a few things. I don't know."

I agreed it was fun to get off the farm, go into the "big city" and do nothing but drive around and look at things or even do some window shopping. It was also less expensive to buy things in town than it was in the country.

We didn't say a whole lot on the drive in. The truth of the matter was I really didn't know Jim well. We didn't hang out although I liked visiting with his mother--my dad's sister.

When we reached the edge of town I said, "I better get gas before we run out."

"My dad gave me a check." Jim whipped a check out of his pocket and handed it to me.

"Wow! Forty dollars." Forty dollars in those days was worth about three times it is now. "Why did your dad give you this?"

"It was for all the work I've done on the farm the last several months. He just today could afford to pay me."

That made sense but I still asked, "Where did he get that much money?"

"He sold a couple cows."

"I see," I said and for some reason flipped the check over. His dad had also endorsed the back of the check. "Why did your dad sign the back?"

"My dad always signs the back of his checks like that."

"He doesn't have to do that if it's his own check."

"I don't know," Jim said. "All I know is that's the way he signs all his checks."

"If that's the way he does it, then I guess that's the way he does it." Who was I to judge his dad's check writing technics, even though it didn't make sense. I wasn't even out of high school, yet, so his dad had to be smarter than me when it came to writing checks.

I pulled into a gas station. When the attendant came out I asked if we could pay with the check and get the difference back in cash.

"Yes, I'll accept your check if you buy a full tank of gas," the attendant, who turned out to be the owner, said.

"Fill her up, then," I told him. When the tank was full I handed him the check. He turned it over.

"You boys need to come into the station with me," he said. When we were in the building he walked around behind the counter. "Whose check is this?"

"It's mine," Jim said.

"I think you wrote this out yourself." The owner held the check up.

"I didn't." Jim sounded very secure with his answer.

"Listen," the owner said, "I'm a former policeman and I think you wrote this check."

"No, I did not," Jim said with authority.

"I'll tell you what. If you admit to writing this check I'll let you go and nothing will ever be said about it. Otherwise, I'm calling the police."

"I did not write that check." My cousin was defiant.

The owner picked up the phone and dialed. "This is the owner of the Shell station at..."

I looked at Jim. His face was as red as a ripe tomato. Mad? Scared? Embarrassed? I couldn't tell.

The owner hung the phone up and said, "You boys sit out on the step until an officer shows up."

As we sat down I asked Jim, "Did you write that check?"

"No." His voice full of confidence. "I don't know why he's insisting I did."

"We have nothing to worry about, then."

A few minutes later a cop car pulled in and a big, husky man in a blue uniform got out. We all went into the station. The owner explained the situation. The policeman looked at me and said, "Come out to the vehicle with me."

I followed him out and he held the back door open. I got in. The first thing I noticed was the window cranks and door handles were removed. The cop went around the front of the car and got into the front seat.

"Did he brag to you about writing out that check?" he asked.

"No. Matter of fact I just asked him if he wrote it out and he told me he did not."

"Are you certain he didn't say anything about writing out that check?"

"Yes. I'm certain of that."

"Have you ever been with him when he has done anything illegal?"

"No. This is the first time we have ever gone anyplace together."

"Okay," the cop said and got out of the car and let me out. We went into the station and he took Jim out to his car. After a few minutes the officer got out and came into the building.

"I'm going to let you go, because I believe you're telling the truth. But I'm taking him down to the station for further questioning."

"How's he going to get home?" I asked.

"We'll see he gets home." The policeman strolled out of the station.

"I'm sorry," I told the owner, "but I don't have the money to pay for the gas."

"What's your phone number?" he asked. I gave it to him. "You go home and get the money and bring it back today or I'll have the police out to pick you up."

"I can't do it today because we have cows to milk and my help is needed."

"Okay. Bring it in tomorrow."

When I left the cop was still talking to my cousin. I drove home and told my foster mother what had happened. She advanced me the six dollars out of my allowance that it took to fill the twenty gallon tank.

The next day, after milking the cows in the morning, I went to the gas station and paid the owner.

"As soon as you left," the owner told me, "he confessed. He wrote out that check."

"Really?"

"He said he didn't want you to know he did it."

I don't know how Jim figured I wouldn't find out. I did a lot of thinking on the drive home. I decided it was a dumb thing to do but people do stupid things when it comes to money and he would probably never do it again. I resolved we could still have a friendship but it would take time before I trusted him again.

Monday morning I saw my cousin at school. "What happened?" I asked.

"My dad wasn't any too happy," Jim said.

I figured that. "Is that all?"

"I spent the weekend in jail," he said. "It was no big deal."

No big deal? I thought. Anyone who thinks spending any time in jail is no big deal has something wrong with them. I realized right then I could never have a friendship with someone who thought the way he did. If jail didn't scare him there was no deterrent to keep him from doing anything wrong. After that I had very little to do with my cousin. I still visited my aunt, but if I saw him about all I said to him was, "Hi."

One irony of this story is several years after this incident I got a job at this very gas station. However, by that time the owner had sold the station and the new owner knew nothing about the forged check. I worked there three years, and even became assistant manger, but I don't think I ever told my boss this story.

Don't miss my other "life clips":
Life Clip Number One: Rubbernecking is Not a Good Idea
Life Clip Number Two: The Scare from the Hood
Life Clip Number Three: Beer and Deer