Car Wars

To the naked eye, it was all going smoothly and I can tell you that all four of our eyes were starkers. Maryellen and I had driven The Beast to David to accomplish numerous tasks, the first and hardest of which was now behind us. The Beast had passed inspection. Well for sure we had to drop some names and pay for a wheel balancing, but the stamped and official document that would allow me to re-register the old Land Cruiser for another year was now in hand and we were off to chore number two. Under the hood of the now certified and approved for driving vehicle, trouble was either lurking or brewing, pick your own cliche.

We managed to get a few more errands run and chores accomplished before the first sign of any problem occurred. It was upon leaving a store named Guerra, which means war, but in this case had no particular significance that I can determine unless my car is a protester, that The Beast refused to start. "You drive, I'll push" was my Johnny Mechanic on the spot solution, "maybe we can jump start it." A couple of the war guys came out to help and by golly and by effort we got it going. ME made a u-turn at the corner and returned to pick me up. Lunch and contemplation of the day's remaining tasks seemed in order so we bee lined to the Italian joint affixed to the Grand National Hotel. Part two of our adventure would occur out of our sight and perhaps, in fact, unseen by anyone at all.

"Back into that space near the door" I said, " it's got a downhill slant that should give us enough roll to jump start again if we need to." "And, " I added, "race the engine hard before you turn the key off."

"I can't," she replied, " If I take my foot off the brake, the car will roll."

"Just put it in neutral and move your left foot off the clutch and onto the brake."

ME did as instructed and roooom rooomed the engine a couple of times before turning it off and hopping out for lunch.

Pause here to consider good pizza.

When we returned to the car I am happy to report it started right up. What I am less thrilled to tell you is that the car was across the parking lot some fifty or sixty feet from where we left it! That no other car had been parked in its path can be viewed as a mite lucky. If, however, you take into account that our very next stop was to renew the car's insurance which had expired, then you can say without argument that this view can now be cranked up to Good Goddammned Lucky! For our part, ME and I just looked at each other with matching expressions of Holy Shit.

To be continued.