Not dead, maybe almost at best. The longer you don’t hit the keys the harder it is to do. I am finishing many things that derailed my writing. It appears to me if you ever want to quit writing it is very easy. I worry about not writing at time better spent sleeping, then wake late and miss writing. Is that irony? How can one wonder so much about something put off. It is hard writing I mean. The best sounding story clouds if not written. I am great at making clouds fluffy white and just perfect ones. I feel on a verge though like when I learned how to fix something new. The understanding of the thing enabling me to correct the problem. The hardest part is to establish the rhythm of writing daily. On the bright side, I have written 2500 words in the last week. It is by no means a miracle, but further down the road to there.
Category Archives: writer
The voice in the phone said “Audi, I am dying. You are going to go on without me and live your life to the fullest. You will reach heights that you have never imagined and solve problems without solutions. You will end world hunger and bring about world peace baby.” Audi rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. The clock displayed ten A.M. and Audi groaned. It was a full hour before she set her alarm to go off and she had planned on snoozing thirty minutes after it went off. She sat up and looked out over the city. She held the phone out and looked at it, then said “Mom do you have to do so early in the morning?” Audi’s mom sobbed into the receiver “How could you say that to your only mother? You tear my heart from my chest and break it into a million pieces.” Audi replied “I know mom, but it’s the third time this week you’ve been dying.” The sobbing stopped and a sophisticated lady said from the phone “Well then, shall we do lunch?” Audi consented and with a French goodbye her mom disconnected. Audi sighed, why did her life have to be so very hard?
Audi didn’t know, but everyone expected so much of her. Her boss expected that she would be at work every day by nine A.M. Her assistant expected for Audi to actually ask him to take her clothes to the dry cleaners before he would do it. The worst was eating a whole chocolate cake after a full dinner and drinks had caused her to gain a pound. A whole pound, the world had become impossible, and she had to skip eating the entire box of peanut butter captain crunch in order to lose the pound. It wasn’t right and Audi was not going to stand for it.
A nice hot shower and a massage was the answer. She stretched and got out of bed. She walked in the kitchen and Tyler was reading the paper. Tyler was her best friend. They were together all the way thru prep school and she could tell him anything. She really could tell him anything and he would understand completely. It was the best and he had even made her mandatory breakfast beverage a chocachino latte dub caf. He really could be the perfect gay friend, but he stubbornly remained straight. Audi took a deep drink and said “mmmm perfect”. Tyler smiled and folded down the wall street journal. He asked “Would you like your morning massage?” and Audi smiled. Tyler had the hands of a god. He had the face with a chiseled chin and athletic body of one to match. She couldn’t wait for him to get started rubbing out all the stress. She lay down on the table and he began crooning a low sweet tune, while he massaged her from head to toe. Audi could smell the sweet oil as he rubbed it into her muscles. Audi laid there and thought about the perils she faced. She was the bravest person that she had ever known.
After Tyler’s massage, Audi showered and dressed for the day. The elevator doors opened and Audi strode across the lobby to the front door. The doorman stuttered “Good day Ms. Stepman” pulling off his cap as she passed. Audi smiled at him and said “Thank you George.” George flushed and said “Mrs. Wood is waiting in the black stretched.” George opened the door for her. He was grinning. He was always grinning when Audi was around the lobby. The limousine pulled away from the curb out into traffic. George grinned as he watched it go down the street.
Audi’s mother had always been more friend then mother. Holly was beautiful and was immune to aging. She would always be twenty three. Holly was the bell of the movie industry. She would start roll playing a character and perfect it, then without fail a movie producer would come calling with the perfect script. Audi concluded Holly’s next roll must be a daisy, but the script had yet to appear for proof.
Holly was catching Audi up on all of the latest news and Audi was looking out the window. A nondescript brown car was passing outside. The driver’s lips were moving fast. Audi concentrated and was able to make out a few of the words. It was the warrior’s prayer and only said before going into battle. Audi kept her eyes on him, the traffic began backing up and the car stopped and was blocked in by the limo. Audi slid out and walked to the car. The driver was praying more fervently than ever. He was rocking back and forth in seat. Audi tapped on the glass. The man jerked up and froze looking at Audi. She made the universal roll down your window symbol. Audi stretched out her right hand and moved it in small circles. He was caught off guard by the gesture and complied. When the window was down Audi leaned in the car window. She brought her face close to his within kissing range. The car reeked of C4. Audi guessed the car must be packed full. His breath caught as she drew near to him. She slid the button from his left hand. Audi was looking at the man’s face. His features were perfect and he had a strong beauty to him. She was caught by an impulse and kissed him squarely on the mouth. She pulled back out the window taking the button with her. She gave a hard tug that pulled the wires loose. The man dazed and slightly smiling let his foot slip off the brake and hit the car in front of him. As the light bar on top of the car flashed on, the man let his head fall on the steering wheel. Audi smiled and returned to the limo feeling slightly sad. The man had kissed very innocently and it had been sweet. She touched her lips as she re-entered the limo.
The page wrippled in the breeze making it hard to write neatly. The afternoon was warm and bright with shadows drifting across the ground in contrast. A shadow touched John and his concentration was broken. He looked up from his writing. John read what he had just written. It sounded false to him and his back was aching from leaning on the tree. He saw Amy walking back from class. He got up and brushed the dirt off his pants. “Hi Amy” He said waving her over. He walked around the tree to where Rebecca was reading. She pulled down her horn rim reading glasses. She looked like a scientist inspecting an alien. John smiled at her and said “I was hoping you and Amy would let me ask you some questions about women.” Rebecca sat up obviously interested and waved Amy to come and sit on the blanket with her. Amy sat and Rebecca smiled at her. She said “John has some questions about women for us.” Now Amy got the knowing smile and John thought this had been a very bad idea. The girls turned and looked at him with interested eyes and condescending smiles. He knew exactly how a worm feels when two birds are deciding who will eat it or at least which one gets the bigger half.
John went over and sat on the grass by the girls. Rebecca said “It is about time you learned about the birds and the bees.” John looked at her. He thought I know that story, but the truth is the birds eat the bees. John said “Clever not funny, No, You see I am writing a story and the main character is a woman, but I am not sure I am doing it right.” Amy was nodding agreement. She said “I don’t think it’s possible for a man to know how a woman is going to react.” Rebecca being the kinder of the two said “Read what you wrote to us and we will tell you what you did wrong.” That sounded fair, but smelled like a trap to John. He decided it was best to start reading, while he still had a chance. He began “The voice in the phone said….” He finished and looked at the girls and said “Tell me what you think.” It occurred to him right then that if the birds were going to eat him now was the time.
Amy was twisting a piece of her hair around her fingers and feeling the tips of it. She liked the soft feel on her fingertips. She paused looking at Rebecca, then back to John. She said “Well, I liked the kiss at the end. The story is confusing me though. Why would this girl understand the situation and be able to control it. You should build up to her saving the world or something. I don’t think the part about her being late for work and resentful about it is very realistic either. The part where Tyler is her personal assistant and masseuse is not right that would be two separate jobs, but I didn’t lose interest so I guess it’s okay.” Amy suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. She thought I said too much and nodded affirmative and put what she thought was an encouraging look on her face even adding a slight smile.
John had picked up a leaf and was pulling the veins out of it. He said “I was just getting started Audi is going to save the world over and over throughout the day. She appears to lead the pampered life of a self-absorbed aristocrat, but she having a time keeping the bad guys in check. I guess you couldn’t really get that from the short you got though.” He shrugged and smiled even feeling a little encouraged.
Rebecca got a little more comfortable and smoothed out her shorts. Rebecca smiled an open mouth knowing smile. She said “You didn’t name her mom Hollywood did you? John, John, John, what am I going to do with you? What were you doing with the late thing? Aren’t men late too? And you took it too far I think. What were you doing with the weight thing and eating too much to gain only a pound, then lose it very easily are you trying to promote anorexic narcissistic beauty queens. What is that about? I like the line though. I think I will have a stencil made up saying that.” She got up on her knees gaining steam and continued “What was the part about her being the bravest person she had ever known? No woman would ever feel that way John. Women are all cowards at heart. We do what we have to do for the people we love because we have too, not because of some inner braveness. Don’t you think a single woman would run where a mother would fight to defend her children? Shouldn’t you think about that more, before writing something like that?”
John put down the veins of the leaf. He didn’t remember picking it up. The girls were both watching him now. He thought they would both agree with each other if asked about any point, but he had a feeling their views differed on several points. The only thing he was sure they agreed with was that he was wrong about women. He nodded at this thought agreeing with himself. Amy and Rebecca smiled at seeing him nod. He looked at them. They still had the intensity of birds, but something was different. He realized it then. The worm had been eaten and now they were pondering the taste. He said “Is there any hope for me understanding how women think?” They both nodded no in unison. He smiled and said “I didn’t think so, but I am gonna keep trying. Okay?” The girls smiled and John got up. He helped the girls get up and picked up Amy’s book bag for her. He said “What do you got in this thing rocks?” This was funny because Amy was a Geology major. In a moment of inspiration, John asked the girls if they would like to go over to The Hot Cup with him. He added a good chocachino latte dub caf sure would hit the spot about right now. The three of them walked off together.
The three of them had to stop for a long black limousine driving thru the intersection. The girls shared a knowing look with John. They watched it pass and continued instructing John while they walked on toward the café. It was the end of August and the first meeting of the girls club. John thinking faster than normal, but slower than his tongue said “ How does a girl feel when she wants to have sex?”
In a mystery story, the reader eventually reaches the solution to the mystery. I wrote this story thinking about man’s greatest mystery. A man can be well educated and still know nothing about a woman. It seems very probable to me that knowing one woman completely, which is impossible, means absolutely nothing about the rest of the sex. They all appear to be made from unique molds with only basic physical similarities.
How does a woman feel about sex? There is no answer to question. I say this because all answers are correct somewhere, so none are right. One woman is passive while another is aggressive. One is turned on by Brad Pitt and another is repulsed. One can take it or leave it and another can’t be sated. I think this is a large deviation from the male that is constantly horny. I read the Plum novels for research into a woman’s sexuality. The series possess a latent sexuality that is distinctly feminine. If I were to draw conclusion, I would say woman like to be teased, hinted to, and protected while left free to adventure at will. I lack belief that there is an answer to this question, but it is interesting to ponder.
How does a woman view the world? Sherlock Holmes would shrug at this enigma. I wonder if a woman views it any differently than a man. I pondered the possibility that a female character is the same as a male only referred to with she instead of he. It does work as long as the characters are different enough to not run together. I read books written by women as research for this question. The Bronte sisters are top for a female perspective. They differ greatly from one another and yet are all female. An interesting note, I often find male characters in female books hard to believe. I almost said phony, but that isn’t true. They work in the story and behave correctly in all manners. Maybe they are too perfect to be men. Maybe the authors corrected the male flaws before letting them loose in their imaginations. I fear that I remove too emotions before freeing my characters to live their lives. I am not saying emotions are male or female only uncomfortable for me. How do I view the world? How do I analyze my world view? I only have my view to hold as a measure. Maybe John will ask the girls for some insight or maybe Audi can enlighten me.
There are lots of questions to ask. I wonder if the answer is even within my comprehension. Think of this, woman vary some much individually. Some are sweet; some smart, and even few bitchy ones. There are role variations in women. Grandmothers, mothers, wives, singles, daughters, and sisters roles women fill just to name a few. Employee, Boss, customer are other variables that would affect behavior. I ask these questions in order to do justice to female characters. If I do it right, I might create a Venus, Dianna, or Juliet. I would enjoy a Stephanie Plum. She makes me laugh, but Audi is alright in my book. I can’t wait to see where John takes her.
I abruptly stopped writing about two months ago. I was making real progress and the work was flowing. I outlined a story to write for submission. I read daily about crafting a good plot. I wrote daily at least 1200 words and up too 2000 on a good day. I was doing all the things a writer should and then I stopped dead. I am unsure of why or how and I bet many never understand it. I never realized it but writing is like tracking through snow. It is difficult at first and becomes easier the more you do it. I stopped and it did not take long before my tracks covered over and I was lost and alone.
I found a brand new reason not to write everyday. I recently thought walking away was best for me. It would be the easy way out. I am far more skilled with my hands than my mind and there is comfort in your strengths than weaknesses. I almost did it. It was wrong, but whose counting for mistakes. My tracks were covered and finding my way back would be too hard. It is better to give up and leave the stress of trying to fools and the damned.
The snow filled my tracks and again I stood facing the blank page. I will not lie about it. It is daunting to write and I am daunted, but snow devils be dammed and snow angels get behind me I will write. I will no longer come to blank page lightly. I was told better by my better and headed him not. I am not sure if this makes sense to you or not. I hope there is a thread of relation. The human experience is common to us all and will be shared with friends.
The words are coming again fast and if I continue for a little longer I will have direction. I will never stop with already having a start for tomorrow. I have much material and several new techniques that I need to address. It would be better if I dreamed the words and could forget them in a blink at dawn, but I don’t and the stories continue to fill me. I like to write stories and want to write them well. Writing isn’t hard, but writing well is hard. It takes thought practice and untainted imagination to do it. I enjoy creating stories. Each one is a trip to some where with someone I admire. Oh man, I need to go somewhere. I will get some stuff together in my head and we can go. The free places with the good food and a beer. Cheers and go pack a bag good for at least a week.
I continue to improve my craft. I desire the ability to improve the structure of my stories. I am currently reading Plot & Structure – Write Great Fiction byJames Scott Bell. He has several forms and it is an easy read. I may have to get back to writing with the old tools. I stopped cold when I decided to upgrade my plots.
I haven’t written a word in a couple of weeks. I read several books including Catcher in the Rye. It’s a good book and carries the story along. It isn’t as epic as I expected. I was supposed to be forever changed. They teach this book in college for Pete’s sake. Salinger’s gift is characterization. His characters jump off the page. I don’t like them, but they do pop. If you ask me personally, they should teach Shawshank Redemption in college and let the catcher save the children running for the cliff.
I will revise and post Broken Angel in the morning. I hope you enjoy it.
The year is 1999, it is a wide belief that it is the end of time, but
Bill Gates has made his hundredth billion and Prince’s album 1999 is selling
big again. It was originally released in 1982 the same year Sam was born. Mack
is still around too, he returned from the war or mostly, in 1974. His left foot
had hooked a trip wire on patrol and the RGD-5 connected to it detonated. Mack
ran for his life.
The morning was bright and warm with a promise of real heat for the day. The wind blew out of the east cool and refreshing. The smell of chlorine and chlorophyll wafted on the breeze. Sam stood appraising his mother with the grand wisdom of a teenager. He was thinking “If dad was only.., He would leave this to me. I know mom I know”. Lou was thinking “If only your father were here, he could handle this”. She pursed her lips looking at the man-boy. Lou looked up the street then down as was her habit. She said “You don’t need a sports car. A truck would serve and we could use a truck around here.” Mack looked at her with an unchanging look. He was humoring her, she knew his mind and he knew what he wanted.
Sam tall and straight was the image of his father. Lou’s heart would skip a beat as she rounded a corner and glimpsed Sam. She would look again and see the boy. He filled and broke her heart every day. Sam tore her heart open and filled it at the same time. He was a good boy. He did well in school never causing any trouble. He made friends easily and was always kind even when he didn’t have too. She was very proud of him and when he asked for a sports car, she had grudgingly agreed.
Sam loved the pony cars. He had alternating periods of Camaro and Mustang fervor. The first of the ponies had graduated in price to levels well out of Sam’s reach. He had worked for two years doing odd jobs and had sacked groceries for the last year. Sam had saved all of his earnings and Lou had admired him for avoiding immature desires to spend and spend. She pictured him as the toddler kicking around the patio in his little car. He raced here and there stopping to say “beep-beep, then talking off with a “r-r-r-r-r-room”. He was responsible enough to have a sports car and had wanted one enough to save
for it. Sam had amassed a teenage fortune and possessed his father’s love of muscle cars.
A green Buick was coming up the street. Lou turned to Sam “Sam I’m not going with you to look at cars. “ Sam’s face lite up and then abashed dimmed down. Lou continued “I asked Mr.B for a favor and he took the day to go look at cars with you.” The Buick slid up to the curb across the street. Ben hopped out and bounced across the street “This is gonna be so awesome Sam! What are you going to get? Can I drive it?” and turned to Lou “morning Sam’s mom”. Sam, standing blank faced, looked at them. He pictured Mr.B saying things like “How much of the warranty is left? Do you have all the service
records? Why we should just get one off the lot Sam that way you know what you’re getting.” Sam said “We could do this mom” and Lou replied “Mr.B is taking a day off from the lot to help us Sam” in her stern mom voice. Mr.B walked up and smiled at Lou “Good morning Lou, you look pretty this morning”. Lou’s cheeks flushed and Sam felt his stomach clinch. Mr.B gave the boys a big smile “We better get going before all the good deals are gone. Sam you want to get something off the lot? That way you know what you’re getting. Sam kissed his mom good-bye and walked across the street listening to Mr.B and nodding.
A green car with a man and two teenage boys pulled into Ed Deals dealership in the late afternoon. The man got out, wiped his forehead, and looked up at the sky. A few
white puffy clouds could be seen in the distance. The day had become hot and sticky. Sam and Ben piled out and walked off toward a Camaro on the front row. Mr.B stayed back waiting to talk to slim. Slim walked out of the office and sauntered over to Mr.B. Slim looked at the boys “I thought you weren’t coming in today Ben.” Mr.B replied “I’m doing a favor for boy’s friend Sam. It’s just he and his mom with no man to help them out.” Slim appraised Mr.B then leered “She’s the hot blonde with the nice rack. Right?” Mr.B’s cheeks flushed “I’m a married man Slim” and did his best to seem virtuous. Slim nodded buying none of what Mr.B was selling and admiring him at the same time. Slim stared after the boys “What you got in mind for the boy Ben?” Mr.B paused a moment then said “The boy has some cash, quite a bit in fact, and he needs a truck or maybe a car. It would be a pretty sweet deal to earn a favor from Lou and a commission today Slim.” Slim nodded approvingly.
Sam and Ben walked down the black asphalt row looking at the different cars as they went. They stopped at the end to look at a black Camaro. It had T-tops, leather, alloy
wheel and Sam started to get excited. The windshield had 8,995 and smoking deal written on it with cartoonish pizzazz. Sam pondered the price and calculated the sales tax and insurance. He thought that he would need to negotiate the price down, at least a thousand, before he could afford it. Sam pulled the hood release and the hood popped with a thunk. Ben pressed the safety catch and lifted the hood. Ben whistled looking at the clean engine with a sticker on the air cleaner indicating some special filter. Sam was impressed by the cleanness and noticed the air cleaner. The engine compartment seemed not full to Sam and it took a moment before he noticed what it was not there “It’s a sixer Ben” Ben looked at the engine. He counted the coil packs “one-two-three-four-five-six, yep, a sixer”. Sam started to close the hood as Mr.B walked around the car. Mr.B caught the hood “You know this sixer is two hundred horses Sam. It runs like a scalded dog and is low mileage
to boot. We could test drive it or did you want to go on over to the trucks?” Sam grimaced at the trucks “I guess a test drive would be cool Mr.B.” Mr.B waved his arms back and forth, then with a flourish, a key appeared dangling from his hand. Sam took it and the three of them got in the car.
Sam wanted to feel the car’s potential. Slim waved as Sam turned east heading towards the outskirts of town. The Camaro was peppy and had a tight feel as he drove. Sam was weighing the pros and cons as Mr.B blathered on about features. The car had
34,000 miles that was average for a three-year-old car. Sam felt himself relaxing and he was enjoying driving the car. Ben asked “can we stop and take out the tops dad?” and Mr.B grinned “sure Ben if Sam wants too. It’s his car.” They pulled into a subdivision to remove the T-tops. The tops unlocked with a solid chachunk and were stored in the hatch. The three loaded back up and Ben sat in the back letting his dad ride shot-gun. Sam drove up Alta Vista looking for a place to turn around. He turned to use the other exit and parked on the corner lawn was a red 5.0 mustang. Sam pulled to curb in front of the car. Mr.B
looked confused and a little flustered. Ben hopped across the back seat and got out Sam’s door. Mr.B groaned and followed the boys over to the car.
The windshield had a for sale sign in the right side. The “for sale” was written in flourescent orange and at the bottom a note in marker. The note lacked the usual phone
number and had an address. Ben read the address aloud 5100 Alta Mesa Dr. Sam looked around and said “It’s the fifth house down”. “I’ll go” Ben said and took off. He loped off
toward the owner’s house. Mr.B walked around the car “Something’s funny about this car Sam. I think we should pass on it. It’s got this funny body kit and chrome wheels to boot in this year model all the cars had aluminum wheels”. Ben was dragging up a middle-aged man” I found him Sam. Jack meet Sam. Sam meet Jack”. Jack pulled away from Ben and walked over to Mr.B. He said “those aluminum wheels are sixteen inch and I bought these and new tires for less than a set of tires for sixteen inch tires cost.” Sam and Ben were circling the car having their own discussion. Sam said “Your dads right; this body kit is odd with the rear bumper and grille. Check out that spoiler, I haven’t seen one
like that before. I wonder why he didn’t get a Saleen one.” Ben stood out behind the looking at the stainless exhaust tips. He said “It looks like a Cobra with different wheels on it.” He raised his voice to reach the men talking, “What year is this?” Jack replied in kind “It’s a 91 or 92. I forget”. Ben turned to Sam “that rules out a Cobra, they only made those in 93, but it sure is a nice fake. You see the cobra name plate on the hatch and snakes on
the fender. The body kit is correct as well. I wonder if it has the intake.” Ben yelled over to Jack “can we pop the hood?” Mr.B was looking annoyed and checked his watch. Jack nodded and threw Ben the keys. Ben unlocked the driver’s door and hit the unlock button.
A blast of heat hit Sam as he opened the passenger door. The interior was black and the seats were leather. Ben remarked” that’s cool it’s even got the 93 seats in it. A 91 or 92
would have a leg bolster, these are smooth”. Ben pulled the hood release and the boys walked around front. Sam lifted the hood and put it on the prop. Ben whistled and said “See the cobra on the intake”. Sam nodded and smiled at Ben. Jack walked over looking irritated. Mr.B walked around the other side to stand by Sam and checked his watch. He said “I guess we should get going boys” and started to walk back to the Camaro. Sam looked at Jack “How much are you asking?” Jack shrugged “It used to be my wife’s car. She got tired of it and I decided to buy her something else and hot rod this one for me. It’s only got 48,000 on it but I had to set the idle real high to get it to run. I’m not sure what’s wrong someone who knew what they were doing could probably fix it real easy. It’s a shame I dropped three grand into getting the heads and intake ported. I put in bigger injectors and a cold air induction. She’ll run like a scalded dog, but it smells like gas when it’s running. I don’t know could you do five?”
Mr.B had stopped and walked back over “let’s go boys; I have other things to do!” Sam looked apologetically at Mr.B “could you give me five more minutes?” Mr.B groaned and crossed his arm, but nodded his assent. Sam turned to Jack “Can I borrow your phone?” Jack smiled and pulled out his cell. Sam called His mom. The phone rang twice before she answered. Her voice was calm and expectant “Did you get a truck?” Sam grimaced “No mom, I found a mustang that I like but it needs some work. The guy says it would be real easy to fix.” Lou asked in a cautious tone “what does Mr.B think? Sam felt it all starting to slip away. There was no way his mom
would go against Mr.B on this decision; then something happened. Mr.B stormed over and plucked the phone from Sam’s hand. Mr.B turned and glowered at Sam. He turned and was pacing back and forth as he started to speak “Hey sugar lips, this boy of yours is out of control. I bust my hump running all over town looking at cars. I try to get him to buy a truck like you wanted and he’s got me looking at a seven-year-old car for five thousand and get this it, doesn’t even run right. I’m sorry Lou, but you know a boy needs a father around.” Mr.B suddenly stopped talking, his face had a surprised look, and his left eye started twitching. He held the phone a little way from his ear and after a minute he
said “can do, no ma’am, and sure glad to help”. Mr.B handed the phone to Sam. Sam held it to his ear. He was half afraid, given all the trouble he had caused, and making Mr.B so angry. Lou said “Sam, I trust you if you truly want this car then buy it.” Sam smiled “thanks mom, I love you.” He nodded a few more times and then said “goodbye”. Mr.B
looked at Sam “you shouldn’t buy this car boy. It’s a mistake.” Sam nodded assent “I know Mr.B, and I appreciate you taking a day to help me with this, but I guess I am going to make this mistake”. He offered his hand and Mr.B shook it with a weak grip. Mr.B looked at Ben “You coming?” Ben asked” Can I hang with Sam?” Mr.B looked at the both of them “I guess, I’m gonna stop off at the bar. I will see you later. Its beer-thirty boy” He winked and sauntered off to the Camaro. He gunned it as he left and clipped a wheel on the curb.
The boys turned to face Jack. Jack was smiling “I guess I sold a car gentleman”. Sam smiled back “Yes sir”. The three of them walked over to Jacks house. Jack and Sam filled out the title and Sam paid him. Jack took the boys out to the garage. He gave Sam a large box full of car parts and manuals. Jack motioned to the rear of the garage and a set of wheels covered by a tarp. Jack pulled the tarp off “You can have these wheels if you want them. I think they are off a Thunderbird” Ben walked over to Sam. He leaned over and in a
quiet voice he said “those are original Cobra wheels”. Sam and Ben loaded the wheels into the hatch and back seat. Ben held the box of parts. Sam got behind the wheel. He still had the title in his hand. He threw it into the box Ben was holding. Sam pushed in the clutch and turned the key. The engine turned and groggily awoke. Sam revved it a couple of time and it settled into a high idle. Ben, rummaging through the box of parts, was thinking aloud “Sam, all of these Cobra parts would cost a bunch. Wouldn’t it have been something if it were a real Cobra? I saw a picture of one in a book one time. They are really rare” Ben stopped rummaging and held up the title “Hey Sam, it’s not a
92, it’s a 93”. The boys looked at each other and laughed out loud. The Cobra slowly backed up on the grass then pulled out in the street.