Nightsounds – Part 8
“My Place – or Yours?”
Dan stepped out of the garage walkthrough door and pulled it closed, twisting the knob a couple of times to verify that, yes, he did lock it. Satisfied that all was secure, he turned and headed across the stone drive towards the attached garage’s walkthrough. The sun was just about as low as it could get, all orange and fiery, causing the scattered wisps of long vaporous clouds to appear nearly luminescent in their red and mauve splendor. He stopped to marvel at the sunset, never tiring of seeing it disappear behind the horizon; Dan welcomed the night as one would a friend.
He stood silently for a moment, breathing in the cool air, watching the cars pass by on his road – Carson Road - and wondered why it was even called a “road” at all. Really, it was a glorified 4-lane highway that once was a part of the Interstate Access system. Once the new I-38 bypass was built, this stretch was pretty much abandoned. Still, the locals knew it was quicker most of the time to take Carson around the city because of all the usual traffic jams on the new bypass.
But the best part about Carson road was that once the retail shops and malls closed up for the night, it was a very dead road. With long stretches of pavement that afforded a perfect spot for street racing.
As he stood quietly, he rolled and toyed with the keys to the white Buick in his left hand, having just finished changing the oil and filter on it. Very few cars in town even had a chance to be close enough to see it’s tail lights if they raced. And it had only been beaten once. By Dan. And now, it sat in his garage, in the bay farthest to the right, in a place of honor next to his twin turbo GN and two spots over from his recently acquired Impala SS.
A noiseless breeze ruffled his hair ever so gently; almost as a lover would touch it, moving a lock here, an errant strand there. The way Megan used to do, back before… I’m tired of feeling like this, he thought. I’m tired of being alone, I’m tired of eating by myself, I’m tired of talking to the cars, the cat and the dog… He tried to remember the last time he had fun. Real fun. The kind that you never forget. It struck him that the last time was a while back – when he and Sally had lunch the day she bought the Buick up near Ayersville. Then, a rush of guilt and regret surged through him – he had never called her after that! How could I have forgotten? Damn! I bet she’s wondering too. As he turned on his heel to go into the garage, he remembered that day, that ‘look’ in her eyes, and how it made him feel so alive. Odd how that feeling left as quickly as it came upon him that day.
He thought, “I’ve GOT to move on. I’ve been saying it – I’ve got to start living it.” As he stepped up into the kitchen and closed the heavy oak 6-panel door behind him, he saw the cordless phone left laying on the counter, having been used last to order his dinner that evening – pizza. Again.
Should I call her? What will I say? How will I explain the fact that I HAVEN’T called her till now? The phone was now in his hand, his index finger over the dial as he looked at the marker board where he had scribbled her number weeks before. Oh well, I’ll just wing it…
He listened to the rings… Once… twice… three times… four times… then: Hi! This is Sally. Sorry I missed your call! Please, leave a mes – He clicked “Off”, hanging up. No need to leave a message. She’s out on a date anyhow. Maybe there’s a Horsepower TV rerun on ESPN tonight…, he thought as he sat down on the kitchen chair and began untying his work boots, resigning himself to another night of waiting for another day, the phone still rocking on the counter top where he had just tossed it…
As she came up to the Carson Road/Mulvaney Drive light/intersection, Sally began to second guess herself. I don’t know… I mean, look at me. Is this desperate or what? Going over to see if a guy’s even home, that hasn’t called you once and even remotely acted interested. She sat at the light waiting for the opposing turning lane to precede her and being lost in thought, didn’t see the cat eye headlights come up behind her, then switch lanes to slide up along her driver’s side. Fiddling with the Stereo controls and still waiting for the light, she paid no mind to the solitary figure in the neighboring car who was staring intently at her, gently revving the motor to keep it from loping too much… The driver had heard about this car from a buddy who worked at the local Buick dealership and had sold Sally some filters. How this badass Buick that was pretty much stock was so freakin’ quick – and it was only a V6… And how this black “antique from the ‘80’s could most likely kick the rear of the car beside it now – “easy”….
Maybe, thought the driver of the orange car. Maybe not…
The little green arrow on the dash of the WE4 still pulsed green with a loud announcement for each illumination. The chrome plastic coated turn signal with the multi-function twist control for wipers and cruise felt cool and smooth to Sally’s hand which toyed with the grooves upon it while she stared intently at the light, waiting to turn… only about 5 minutes away from Dan’s house…
Dan sat up and thought for a moment. Getting a wild idea in his mind and being a person prone to impulsive action, he quickly laced up his shoes again, threatened his hair with a brush then decided to wait because he didn’t want to waste the time, grabbed the keys for the Impala SS off the key rack and headed back outside. I’ll just drive by. If her lights are on, I’ll stop. I can say I just was wondering how she was doing with the new car.
Unlocking the door that he only moments before triple verified was locked, he walked back into the garage. Hitting the “Unlock” button on the remote keyless fob, he heard the driver’s door unlock on the SS, and saw the dome light come on. I love modern conveniences, he grinned. She DID say she liked this car. Maybe she might be willing to go get a bite to eat?
Firing up the LT1 was always a treat to Dan. This time was no different. The twist of the key brought to life the high horsepower/high torque V8. As the garage door rose behind him, he watched the tach settle down to a smooth 700 rpms then slowly backed the car out. Flipping on the headlights with one hand as he slid the console shifter into “D”, he headed down the drive and out onto Carson Road. Towards Sally’s house…
The driver revved his motor higher, waiting to see if the blonde in the Buick would look over, hoping she might take decide to go straight instead of turn. He knew she would be impressed with his car because he was sure all women were – in his mind anyhow. But he would rather put any doubts to rest that his buddy had about that old shoebox being able to run with him than just impress someone with the muscular fenders and curvaceous lines that surrounded him - and the 5.4 liter motor...
The light finally changed, Sally turned right, as did the car on her left, but she didn’t notice at first. For some reason, she suddenly felt like she was being shadowed in the failing evening light – and she was. To her left, a squatty looking sports car with odd headlights was slowing, then gunning up beside her, then revving ahead only to slow again. Finally, as the car with the strange exhaust note got far enough ahead, she could make out an odd-shaped wing on it’s rear, yet it’s taillights looked like a Mustang. Some sort of Cobra, maybe? She only laughed – at first to herself, then at the driver in the snake, not knowing if he saw her. The sudden raising of the rpm’s of the Cobra only to be harnessed by the dumping of the clutch and setting it sideways from the enormous and instantaneous torque application to the Pirelli’s on the rear told her that, yes indeed, he saw her laughing at him…
The driver in the Ford was insulted. How could this woman laugh at ME?, he fumed. Disgusted, he couldn’t decide whether to continue trying to goad Blondie into a street race or head on out to the club. His libido won out. Slowing to turn around and go back to Mulvaney Drive, he waited for the approaching car to pass him, noticing it was a big sedan with some nice wheels as it passed by. He watched the Buick’s receding taillights head on down Carson Road as he paused and then did a U-turn back to the west. Quickly, he caught up with the Sedan and noted it was big Chevrolet with big tires…
Her loss, another woman’s gain he thought as he turned right onto Mulvaney, opposite the direction the hulking Black Cherry Chevrolet turned. The Cobra with the funny wing then quickly sped off on in towards the brightly lit town, it’s driver not paying any attention to the red tail-lights in his rear view mirror slowly going out of sight…
Another time, sweetie… there’ll be another time…
Actually, it would much sooner than either of them would have thought...
Raven
“My Place – or Yours?”
Dan stepped out of the garage walkthrough door and pulled it closed, twisting the knob a couple of times to verify that, yes, he did lock it. Satisfied that all was secure, he turned and headed across the stone drive towards the attached garage’s walkthrough. The sun was just about as low as it could get, all orange and fiery, causing the scattered wisps of long vaporous clouds to appear nearly luminescent in their red and mauve splendor. He stopped to marvel at the sunset, never tiring of seeing it disappear behind the horizon; Dan welcomed the night as one would a friend.
He stood silently for a moment, breathing in the cool air, watching the cars pass by on his road – Carson Road - and wondered why it was even called a “road” at all. Really, it was a glorified 4-lane highway that once was a part of the Interstate Access system. Once the new I-38 bypass was built, this stretch was pretty much abandoned. Still, the locals knew it was quicker most of the time to take Carson around the city because of all the usual traffic jams on the new bypass.
But the best part about Carson road was that once the retail shops and malls closed up for the night, it was a very dead road. With long stretches of pavement that afforded a perfect spot for street racing.
As he stood quietly, he rolled and toyed with the keys to the white Buick in his left hand, having just finished changing the oil and filter on it. Very few cars in town even had a chance to be close enough to see it’s tail lights if they raced. And it had only been beaten once. By Dan. And now, it sat in his garage, in the bay farthest to the right, in a place of honor next to his twin turbo GN and two spots over from his recently acquired Impala SS.
A noiseless breeze ruffled his hair ever so gently; almost as a lover would touch it, moving a lock here, an errant strand there. The way Megan used to do, back before… I’m tired of feeling like this, he thought. I’m tired of being alone, I’m tired of eating by myself, I’m tired of talking to the cars, the cat and the dog… He tried to remember the last time he had fun. Real fun. The kind that you never forget. It struck him that the last time was a while back – when he and Sally had lunch the day she bought the Buick up near Ayersville. Then, a rush of guilt and regret surged through him – he had never called her after that! How could I have forgotten? Damn! I bet she’s wondering too. As he turned on his heel to go into the garage, he remembered that day, that ‘look’ in her eyes, and how it made him feel so alive. Odd how that feeling left as quickly as it came upon him that day.
He thought, “I’ve GOT to move on. I’ve been saying it – I’ve got to start living it.” As he stepped up into the kitchen and closed the heavy oak 6-panel door behind him, he saw the cordless phone left laying on the counter, having been used last to order his dinner that evening – pizza. Again.
Should I call her? What will I say? How will I explain the fact that I HAVEN’T called her till now? The phone was now in his hand, his index finger over the dial as he looked at the marker board where he had scribbled her number weeks before. Oh well, I’ll just wing it…
He listened to the rings… Once… twice… three times… four times… then: Hi! This is Sally. Sorry I missed your call! Please, leave a mes – He clicked “Off”, hanging up. No need to leave a message. She’s out on a date anyhow. Maybe there’s a Horsepower TV rerun on ESPN tonight…, he thought as he sat down on the kitchen chair and began untying his work boots, resigning himself to another night of waiting for another day, the phone still rocking on the counter top where he had just tossed it…
As she came up to the Carson Road/Mulvaney Drive light/intersection, Sally began to second guess herself. I don’t know… I mean, look at me. Is this desperate or what? Going over to see if a guy’s even home, that hasn’t called you once and even remotely acted interested. She sat at the light waiting for the opposing turning lane to precede her and being lost in thought, didn’t see the cat eye headlights come up behind her, then switch lanes to slide up along her driver’s side. Fiddling with the Stereo controls and still waiting for the light, she paid no mind to the solitary figure in the neighboring car who was staring intently at her, gently revving the motor to keep it from loping too much… The driver had heard about this car from a buddy who worked at the local Buick dealership and had sold Sally some filters. How this badass Buick that was pretty much stock was so freakin’ quick – and it was only a V6… And how this black “antique from the ‘80’s could most likely kick the rear of the car beside it now – “easy”….
Maybe, thought the driver of the orange car. Maybe not…
The little green arrow on the dash of the WE4 still pulsed green with a loud announcement for each illumination. The chrome plastic coated turn signal with the multi-function twist control for wipers and cruise felt cool and smooth to Sally’s hand which toyed with the grooves upon it while she stared intently at the light, waiting to turn… only about 5 minutes away from Dan’s house…
Dan sat up and thought for a moment. Getting a wild idea in his mind and being a person prone to impulsive action, he quickly laced up his shoes again, threatened his hair with a brush then decided to wait because he didn’t want to waste the time, grabbed the keys for the Impala SS off the key rack and headed back outside. I’ll just drive by. If her lights are on, I’ll stop. I can say I just was wondering how she was doing with the new car.
Unlocking the door that he only moments before triple verified was locked, he walked back into the garage. Hitting the “Unlock” button on the remote keyless fob, he heard the driver’s door unlock on the SS, and saw the dome light come on. I love modern conveniences, he grinned. She DID say she liked this car. Maybe she might be willing to go get a bite to eat?
Firing up the LT1 was always a treat to Dan. This time was no different. The twist of the key brought to life the high horsepower/high torque V8. As the garage door rose behind him, he watched the tach settle down to a smooth 700 rpms then slowly backed the car out. Flipping on the headlights with one hand as he slid the console shifter into “D”, he headed down the drive and out onto Carson Road. Towards Sally’s house…
The driver revved his motor higher, waiting to see if the blonde in the Buick would look over, hoping she might take decide to go straight instead of turn. He knew she would be impressed with his car because he was sure all women were – in his mind anyhow. But he would rather put any doubts to rest that his buddy had about that old shoebox being able to run with him than just impress someone with the muscular fenders and curvaceous lines that surrounded him - and the 5.4 liter motor...
The light finally changed, Sally turned right, as did the car on her left, but she didn’t notice at first. For some reason, she suddenly felt like she was being shadowed in the failing evening light – and she was. To her left, a squatty looking sports car with odd headlights was slowing, then gunning up beside her, then revving ahead only to slow again. Finally, as the car with the strange exhaust note got far enough ahead, she could make out an odd-shaped wing on it’s rear, yet it’s taillights looked like a Mustang. Some sort of Cobra, maybe? She only laughed – at first to herself, then at the driver in the snake, not knowing if he saw her. The sudden raising of the rpm’s of the Cobra only to be harnessed by the dumping of the clutch and setting it sideways from the enormous and instantaneous torque application to the Pirelli’s on the rear told her that, yes indeed, he saw her laughing at him…
The driver in the Ford was insulted. How could this woman laugh at ME?, he fumed. Disgusted, he couldn’t decide whether to continue trying to goad Blondie into a street race or head on out to the club. His libido won out. Slowing to turn around and go back to Mulvaney Drive, he waited for the approaching car to pass him, noticing it was a big sedan with some nice wheels as it passed by. He watched the Buick’s receding taillights head on down Carson Road as he paused and then did a U-turn back to the west. Quickly, he caught up with the Sedan and noted it was big Chevrolet with big tires…
Her loss, another woman’s gain he thought as he turned right onto Mulvaney, opposite the direction the hulking Black Cherry Chevrolet turned. The Cobra with the funny wing then quickly sped off on in towards the brightly lit town, it’s driver not paying any attention to the red tail-lights in his rear view mirror slowly going out of sight…
Another time, sweetie… there’ll be another time…
Actually, it would much sooner than either of them would have thought...
Raven
