Fast car

Words 1449

A child’s pale face peered out of the open window, looking left and right before she saw her best friend, Mickey, on the sidewalk below her apartment. May’s solemn expression changed to joy and she waved.

         “What ya doin’, May?” Mickey shouted up innocently, as if he hadn’t thrown a stone at her window or called out her name.

         “Nothin’,” she replied.

         “Wanna go for a drive?”

         May grinned. Her freckles stood out on her pale face like chocolate sprinkles on white frosting. “Where to? The city?”

         Mickey loved how his friend easily followed his lead in their games. “I was thinking we could go to the ocean. How does that sound?”

         “It’s a little cold for swimming.” May shivered in her thin, red cotton dress. “Wait there, I’m coming down.” The eleven-year-old ran down to the entrance to her building and stood on the top of the steps leading down to where Mickey, who was one year older, waited on the street.

         “Come down,” he said.

         May hesitated, but knowing she was not to leave the apartment, she called down to him, “Ma’s not home. I’m minding my baby brothers.”

         “You look cold, May. Do you want my jacket?” Mickey undid his puffer jacket and began to climb the steps.

         “No. I can’t stop and talk. I’ve gotta go. Ma’s working.” The little girl was disappointed. She added, “but she might let me go on Saturday.”

         “Okay, great. I’ve a surprise for you. You’ll love it. See you then.”

***

Saturday morning May skipped down the ten steps on to the sidewalk where Mickey had been waiting for over an hour.

         “Sorry I’m late and Ma says I need to be home in two hours. What’s the surprise?”

         “You’ll soon see.” Mickey grabbed her hand and they ran. They crossed busy streets, weaved through lines of cars waiting at red traffic lights and past a busy farmer’s market where stalls selling produce lined both sides of the narrow lane.

         At last, they slowed their pace and walked towards the river, which flowed sluggishly and brown. Oil had spilled into the slow-moving body of water and a rainbow-coloured film covered the entire surface. The water quality was poor from all the dredging and pollution and the air filled with a stench of dead fish and decay.They’d almost reached the port where ships were loading and discharging goods and passengers.

         “Where are we going, Mickey?” May asked. Her voice held a hint of a whine. “Ma’s going to whoop my backside when she sees these shoes.” She’d stopped to examine the mud on her laceless, grubby white sneakers.

         “Nearly there, May.”

         The children walked a little further in the long, wet grass. Suddenly there it was and May’s eyes widened when she saw the abandoned, rusty, pink Cadillac; unable to wipe the grin from her face.

         “Your ride awaits.” Mickey attempted to open the passenger door with a flourish. It creaked and groaned, but eventually he pried it open. It opened wide. May slid along the cracked, black leather and grabbed the steering wheel. The kids grinned at each other. May thought that Mickey’s crooked smile made him even more appealing,

         “How did you find this?” May asked, as she investigated the contents of the glove box. “Whatcha doin’ coming down to the port anyway? It’s not safe.”

         “Came across it last week when I was looking for somewhere to sleep.”

         May stopped searching the car and looked at her friend with concern.“Your Dad?” was all she asked.

         “I needed to get out of his sight for a while, just till he calmed down.”

         “You slept here?”

         “Only for one night.” He didn’t want her to feel sorry for him and changed the subject, “I knew you’d love this. You do, don’t you?”

         May, even though she was so young, knew that both she and Mickey came from underprivileged homes that neither of them wanted to talk about. “It’s the nicest car I’ve ever seen. Thanks for bringing me here.”

         Mickey smiled with satisfaction before asking, “Where to, milady?”

         “Driver, take me to the beach. I want the wind to blow in my hair.”

         “Your wish is my command.” Mickey climbed into the driver’s seat and pretended the world was his for the taking. They were grown up and free to go wherever they wished. There was no abusive father, no work-worn, tired mother, just the two of them off on an adventure. May undid her long plaits and shook her head until her bright red hair loosened and picked up the rays of the sun. She laughed and Mickey joined in. It was as if their lives were perfect, for just a little while, before it was time to return to their reality. He gave her a shy kiss on the cheek and together they shouted, “Let’s go!”

Fifteen years later.

“You look tired, honey.” Mickey noted, as his wife entered the apartment.

         May looked at Mickey lying on the couch, their baby boy sleeping on his daddy’s broad chest.”

         “It wasn’t an easy shift,” May admitted. “I need to get out of this uniform and hit the shower.”


         Coming out of the shower, her freshly washed red hair wrapped in a towel, May asked, “How’s he been?” She placed a hand on the baby’s forehead.

         “Better, I think. He’s cooler.”

         May leaned over and kissed her husband. “You’d better get going, babe. You’re gonna be late for work.”

         Mickey sat up carefully, trying hard not to wake the sleeping child as he handed him over to her. “We’re like ships that pass in the night. I hate that we’re never together, always working different shifts.”

         “Can you remember when we were kids? We’d sneak off down to that old Cadillac and pretend we were getting out of here. What happened to that dream, Mickey? We’ve turned out just like our folks, workin’ our asses off.” May’s tired eyes looked into his.

         Mickey wrapped his arms around her and baby Joe. He could smell both her shampoo and the fact the baby needed changing. He began to sway and sing a few lyrics of Tracey Chapman’s song. ‘You got a fast car, I got a plan to get us out of here.’

         “Go on.” She pushed him away gently. “Get to work or you’ll never get that fast car and we’ll be stuck here forever.” She gave the girlish giggle, which always melted Mickey’s heart.

         But Mickey felt the truth in her words and the familiar ache in his chest. He kissed May, gently before turning away. He grabbed his jacket and headed to the door. Before he left, he gave her that crooked smile she so loved and said, “You could be right, May, I might never get that car, but I’ll get us out of here one day, I promise.”

         ‘Don’t forget us while you’re chasing that dream.’

         He stepped back into the room and pulled her into an embrace, baby Joe stirred in May’s arms. Mickey, whispered into her damp hair, “Never.You are my dream, both of you.” He reluctantly released them and left to go to his job at the depot.

         May stood for a few minutes thinking about their lives. She knew in a sort of way, they had escaped. Mickey was nothing like his drunken father and she’d made a silent promise to Joe, she’d never treat him as she’d been treated; forced to grow up too soon, given too much responsibility. Joe’s cry of protest at being held so tight brought her back to the present. “Come on young man, let’s get you changed.”


Later, after settling Joe into his crib, May, curled up on the couch flipping through the photo album they’d started when their precious baby was born. She knew tomorrow Mickey would come home in the morning, tired from his night shift. They’d have time for a quick cuddle before it was time for her to get up and ready for work. Ships that pass in the night. She thought of what Mickey had said. They’d had dreams once, big dreams and she wanted to believe they could still achieve them.

         She yawned and closed the album, thinking of all the future photographs she’d fill it with. Joe was their future and perhaps in time there’d be another baby. She gave a tired smile and flipped on the radio, turning it low as to not disturb her sleeping child.
Tracey Chapman’s song “Fast Car,” was playing. She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.

Written for Rhythm and Writing Contest.

The task is simple: Write a short story inspired by the featured song Fast Car by Tracey Chapman