Saturday, September 16, 2006

It was as if she didn't want to leave

Red Rocket had one last surprise for me; I was fanging it a little on the way to delivering her to her new owner, when the back end suddenly slid out, the car wanting to spin. Instinctively I countersteered into the direction of the slide, but then the car caught a bit faster than i could've unwound the steering, so it shot off the road anyway.

If the road was bordered by a curb, I'd have bent the suspension.

Instead, just the echo of tortured rubber, and the smell of tire smoke came in through the open window.

I carried on the journey at a much more sedate pace after that. And so, some paperwork was completed, money and car keys were exchanged, and she's gone, no longer mine.

I'd known her well, she served me faithfully. She was bright red, same as the day she was made, and if she was human, she'd have her own 18+ card.She broke, I mended her (or paid money to have her fixed). I got dirty fixing her, she taught me how cars work, and how they are put together (and taken apart). Some weeks, I'd spend about 2 hours in her a day, commuting to and from campus. Sometimes I'd listen to her engine sing; mostly I did the singing. And sometimes she'd just unobtrusively melt away and leave me to my thoughts, driving subconsciously.

But she also taught me that owning a car was not all fun and games, when things started breaking because I treated her carelessly. I'd learned to heel and toe at the cost of breaking her clutch.

And tonight, she's becoming some other guy's very first car, just as she had been my first. I simply told the new owner,

Take care of her.

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