T w e n t y S i d e d

So, we’re up to Hiccup, my favorite of my cars.

I was on my way to a four-in-the-morning flight to go see my parents when he just chugged to a stop. We called in an emergency ride so I would make my flight, and I awaited news about what was wrong with him. Elliot texted me half a dozen times a day with updates. We had our own place by that point, but money was very tight, even $500 wasn’t an amount we could handle and I knew it. I was only able to visit my family by a mix of careful saving and help from them to even afford one round trip ticket in the off season.

After a few days of waiting for news, the mechanic finally takes a look at him. The oil change place had put in the wrong filter, instead of filtering it just hung there uselessly, letting anything through. We could have gotten lucky and it just needed it run through with clean oil, but we didn’t. Some bullshit got through and ripped up the inside of the system. The engine was shredded. Hiccup goes no more. Fuck. Dude. That was my car.

We spend almost all of 2019 walking everywhere. Peter, Elliot, and our roommate walk to work, and I walk to get groceries. The store is a mile and a half away, along a highway, in 95-108 degrees. We can’t afford a wagon to haul things so I have to go three days a week to get everything our household of four needs. I want to sue the oil change place for ruining my car, but it wasn’t in my name and not my decision to make.

Spring of 2020, Elliot and I are in college we finally realize loans are a thing. Our roommate has moved out, and Charlie, the person I’ve been dating for awhile, has moved in. Elliot and I have a thousand saved up, not enough to buy a car out of pocket, but enough for something of a down-payment. Charlie has credit, some savings of their own, and also no car. We’re not quite to combining finances, but a vehicle has become a need. We talk about it and decide to go in together on something. We want to stop getting older cars. It wasn’t Hiccup’s fault he got his engine shredded, but something about the whole car-ownership experience has made me think maybe a…newer car is a good idea?

Every single thing about this idea was a mistake. But car loans here in the US, at least, do this really fun thing where buying a car older than ten years old is almost impossible if you’re trying to use credit, the bank just won’t let you do it. So, the car had to be at most ten years old. I’m exhausted of having people pick out my cars for me and not making me part of the decision making process, and so I dove in head first and with no skills in the area.

It’s March of 2020 when we all have done our collective research and decide on…a 2015 Chevy Sonic…It’s $12,000, more than twice what Hiccup cost, but we’re desperate. We went to a CarMax dealership and took it for a test drive. One of the things at this point is the trunk has to be able to fit a wheelchair, since I’ve been having unexplained reduced mobility by that point. The wheelchair fit, and we went forward with the signing. They offered us a two-year warranty for $2,000, and I, bridled with my two last cars in trauma, agreed. Taxes, warranty, original cost of car, closing costs. $12,000 became $15,000.

Then, the loan. At first we’re given a estimated offer of 6% APR. Then, they take into account sick days from the last few paychecks and our income is two hundred less than the estimate. 6% APR becomes 23%. We should have left the dealership right then and there. But I think, collectively as a group, we all thought…’this might as well happen’. This $12,000 car will cost us $23,000 by the time we’re done. But, we got away without an early payoff penalty. We start paying double every single billing cycle.

We left the dealership with crippling debt, and….Jellybean.

Jellybean is a bright red 2015 Chevvy Sonic. I hated the color, the price, and the interior. What was supposed to feel like a win set off alarm bells, but we were desperate. I couldn’t keep walking to the grocery store and I knew it, my joints were failing me, maybe somehow we made the right choice.  Six months after getting her, she broke down for the first time. We were quoted $10,000 for repairs. Remember that warranty? Everyone thought I’d been suckered. Ha. No! They paid for all but $500 of the fixes! Losers!

Well, it also took six months in the shop because they kept trying to dodge the warranty.  But, ha! I think? I don’t know who’s winning at this point. Honestly. I’m just sick of not having a car. We get her back and she runs for three days before breaking down again. I cry at the dealership like the world’s most exhausted toddler and they give me a rental car for the next month free of charge. This fix we pay $500 again, because it’s a new round in the shop, but she’s back home…Yay.

Then, the couple that own the house we rent realize that selling it would be more worthwhile, and we’re given a six months to find a new place. During the full swing of COVID.

Someone does a hit-and-run on Jellybean in a Dollar General parking lot. She still runs, but has a giant gash in the back bumper. We finally realize that living in small town Texas is hurting more than it’s helping, and that jobs in other places are way better. Jellybean has quit acting up for the moment, and we put every stimulus check into paying to move across the country. We pick Indiana, a healthy distance from where I grew up, but still within a six hours drive.

A week before we’re supposed to move, our house gets hit by a tornado. The tornado is accompanied by quarter-sized hail. We do not have a garage. Jellybean still drives, but now resembles a golf-ball.

During the 18 hour drive, we break down, we end up in a hotel an extra night while she gets patched up. $800, fine, perfect, just what we needed. She’s fixed, maybe at last, maybe that’s it?

Christmas of 2021 she broke down for another $2000. We get our first credit-card ever to cover it. At this point we’ve had her for almost two years, and she’s needed $20,000 worth of repairs. We now owe more on her than she’s worth by thousands. Even with paying double every single payment to try and outrun the APR.

June of 2022 the check engine light is back on. We got it checked, and it’s an expensive, mostly harmless mixture of things. It would cost $1000 to fix, and the only real effect is we can’t suddenly take her on long trips. She’s steadily leaking oil, and has an emissions issue. Fine. Whatever. We can deal with that. At least it doesn’t mean missing work.

The next month I get the call my dad is in the hospital, and it’s serious. We’re not sure how serious yet, but I have a bad feeling. I want to get in the car and drive right then, but my car won’t make the trip without maintenance, which I can’t get, because it’s 10 PM, and I don’t have $1000 laying around. By 4 AM he’s gone, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. Fuck.

We top off the oil, do some preventive fixes, and two days later we’re driving to PA for dads funeral. I’m done, we need to finally become a second car household. Every time Jellybean has broken down up to this point, we’ve lost hundreds in lost wages.

We could have almost finished paying her off with our savings this last month, but even then, again, she now needs $2000 in repairs. Not to mention her fucking brakes are going out. 

With another car, rather than throwing more money at our dumb plastic sinkhole decision, we can finally take more hours rather than less. Even if Jellybean stops, we have a backup car. This will be the first ever car I have bought in cash, myself. She is in my name. I have researched issues with her extensively, and I’m prepared for her to break down on me.

Meet Spooky. She is old enough to drink and I have no illusions that she will magically fix everything, but she is a win. She is a choice I made, with my own money, without a loan. I am expecting her to be in the shop more often than not, and prepared for it as best I can. This time next year I am hoping to have paid off Jellybean, fixed her as best as possible, and ‘traded’ her in for a Toyota. Maybe a Matrix. Cross your fingers and toes.

Bay Jubilee Oldest child of Shamus Young. They/Them