Chapter 1
Charles Murray was a successful insurance broker in downtown Los Angeles.
His efforts in that direction enabled him to maintain a beautiful home in Encino, in the San Fernando Valley, which overlooked the sprawling valley below.
Charles was a man of great pride, and was prideful not only about that home, but of his lovely wife Pam and his son Harold.
Harold, at sixteen, was a top basketball player on the high school Varsity, while Pam was active in a number of women's club activities.
He liked her honey-colored hair and her saucer-like blue eyes, and felt like a man who had accomplished a good deal in life, what with his successful profession and his happy home life.
One evening when Charles and Pam watched their son Harold score twenty-two points to reign as high point man for the evening as his team won a crucial basketball game, Charles decided to do something to reward his son.
"You know, that's an awful good boy," he said proudly, as he walked out of the gymnasium following the game.
"He certainly is, and very talented athletically. I guess he gets it from you, dear."
"Oh, cut it out now."
"I remember that you were quite a terror on the football field in your day."
"I was good enough to play first string guard on a team that wasn't very good. We were very mediocre, honey, and so was I. I tried hard, and that was about it."
"I think you're being overly modest."
"I think I'm being very honest," he laughed. "But enough about me. I want to talk about Harold. He not only has been doing well on the basketball court, he apparently has been doing exceptionally well in the classroom. He's gotten some very good grades."
"I noticed that. He hasn't let the athletic success go to his head."
"That, if you want to know, is the big reason why I want to do something for him," Charles said, as he opened the door of his Lincoln towncar, allowing his wife to slip in the front seat.
As Charles stepped inside the car, he explained further.
"You see, dear, I remember what it was like when I was in high school and I don't think things have changed all that much in the twenty years or so that have gone by," Charles said, as he started up the car. "That boy has had all kinds of opportunities to go to parties. Sure, he's gone to few. Why shouldn't he? But what is important is that he hasn't let the success he has achieved as a basketball player go to his head. Kids are funny. They like to associate with a top athlete. Well, I guess it's just about the same as somebody wanting to have lunch with a Harvard man or the like, as an adult. We're all so status conscious. So being as good as he is on the basketball court, he could capitalize on that a good deal more than he chooses to."
"I never thought about it that way before," Pam said. "Maybe I've just been so thrilled watching him perform that I haven't thought of all these other ramifications. But leave it to you, the insurance executive, to think of every nuance."
"I guess I get that way from all the lawyers I associate with," he laughed, as he swung the car around a corner.
"Maybe so."
"Anyway, I guess the kid deserves a reward." "What kind of reward V
"Well, he's been driving that old Chewy of his for a long time. It spends about as much time in the garage as it does on the city streets."
"It is showing signs of wear and tear," Pam nodded.
"I think it would be great to get the kid a new car."
"He certainly would appreciate that, I'm sure."
"I'd just like to give it to him as a token of our appreciation, for what he's done."
"Sounds like a very good idea."
"If I know him, being a young guy and all, he'll like something nice and sporty. Well, a good client of mine runs a Pontiac agency out in West Los Angeles. I was over at his place the other day. We had lunch together then he showed me around the lot. You know, I saw a brand spanking new Pontiac Firebird in the showroom. It looked like just the thing for a young guy, somebody like our Harold."
"Firebird?" Pam looked at him strangely. "I'm not sure I know what that looks like. I know about the Grand Prix, but I don't know about any Firebird."
"I'm sure you've seen it. They're very sporty cars. And they have loads of power."
"Maybe if you pointed one out. Of course, dear, you know me. I'm very naive when it comes to cars and things of that sort. I barely know one from the other."
"This is very distinctive, very stylish, yet sporty. I think that this would be good for him. I was thinking about buying one. I got the idea when I saw that car the other day. But it didn't really come to fruition till I saw that performance tonight. He did a great job, and did it ever do my heart real good to see the admiration that his team mates and his coach showed him."
"Me too, dear."
"So do you think it might be a good idea getting the car?"
"Yes. The idea appeals to me."
"What the heck. I'm making good money," he shook his shoulders philosophically. "If I can't see to it that my family derives some enjoyment from that money, then it isn't worth a solitary thing to me. That's the way I look at it."
"That's a very generous spirit, dear." 'I was just concerned about one thing."
"What's that?" Pam asked.
"I hope that it doesn't spoil him. My just buying it for him, with no strings attached."
"I don't think so at all. I think he'll appreciate it. I think it will give him more incentive to go on and do the right things."
"That's exactly what I think," he replied. "It's just that I wanted to get your thinking in this area. I'm glad that you agree with me."
"Then I guess that's settled."
"Yes it is. I'll call up my friend tomorrow at the agency. I'd like to have it delivered out here, then surprise him with it. I'd just like him to drive into the driveway one day and just find it."
The following day Charles embarked on his mission, that of getting his son a brand new Pontiac Firebird.
It was delivered the following afternoon, and Charles deliberately came home from work that day so he could be around when his young son arrived home from school.
It was four-thirty when young Harold pulled into the driveway in his battered Chevrolet.
"Here he comes," Charles smiled, looking out the window.
"Yes, that's our boy," Pam said, walking over and joining her husband.
Their smiles broadened as young Harold got out of his car, walking over toward the sparkling new automobile. He looked inside the open front windows, scratched his head, then walked toward the house.
"Let's go out and meet him on the porch," Charles smiled.
They walked out onto the porch, meeting young Harold as he approached.
At six-two, he stood a full three inches taller than his father.
"Who does the classy car belong to?" Harold asked.
"It belongs to you," his father replied.
"You've got to be kidding," Harold laughed. "I only wish that it did. I drive that Chevrolet sitting behind it, Dad, you know that."
"What your father is trying to tell you is that we decided our son has been such a good young man, that he deserves a little reward," Pam said.
Now Harold looked over at his father, seeking either confirmation or denial.
"Is this on the level, Dad?" he asked.
"It sure is. This is your car, son."
Harold's face broke into a wide smile. He threw his arms around his father, then kissed his mother.
"I don't believe it, I just don't believe it," he toughed, clapping his hands eagerly. "I feel just as good as I did the other night when I was the team's leading scorer."
"So do we," Charles exclaimed.
"Let me get behind the wheel of it," Harold said anxiously. "As a matter-of-fact, I want both of you to take the first spin with me. Come on, let's drive around."
"O.K., I guess we can do that," Charles looked over and winked at Pam.
Charles and Pam identified very closely with their son, and the joy he experienced sitting behind the wheel of that new car made them both feel very good.
For the next two hours he drove all around the West Valley. Young Harold was acting like a kid with a new toy, but a very powerful toy at that.
"Just do one thing for me, son," Charles said.
"What's that, Dad?"
"This is a very powerful sports car, so watch it on the accelerator, huh? I mean, see to it that you don't speed in it."
"I'm with you, Dad, I'm with you all the way," Harold said exuberantly.
And all the while Harold's head remained in the clouds, over his new possession.