How DID he explain his way out of it, anyway?
You know what bugged me?
They never did show how Sam was able to explain having a new Camaro instead of the old one, to his parents.
So. This is what you get, when I'm dead tired and giggling too much to myself over my mind's weird wanderings.
Not sure where I want to go with this, or if it's done. But I thought it was amusing, at least, at stupid o'clock, so I'm posting it.
Rated PG for a few choice words and suggestions, or it'd be G. I'm not so great with figuring out ratings sometimes, but it's a total gen ficlet.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah... What's this?" my dad demanded, stepping out of the house and coming down to the driveway. His face was a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
"What's what?" I tried, turning the key and hearing the engine's purr die down. I stood up, Bee opening the door for me, and stepped out.
"This car. Where'd this come from? Where's yours?"
"This is mine," I manage, realizing what the problem is just a second too late.
He shoots me a Look. "Where's the car I bought you?"
"Uh..." Crap. Thankfully, Mojo comes running after my dad at that moment, and I look over to him. Maybe I cold divert the subject to something else, something-- "Dad?" I start, "What happened to the garden? I thought those guys trashed it."
"We got back and they'd fixed it. Said there was some kind of mix-up. Now quit changing the subject. Where's your old car?"
Thank you, dad. I reach down to pick up Mojo before he can pee on Bee's tire, and set him off to the side. "Off the car, Mojo." I get a whine in reply, but the dog wanders off, and I face my dad again. "One of the government guys traded me for it."
"What?" A skeptical look.
"No, really! Uh... one of them said he likes the old ones, and he was looking really hard at mine, and... uh..." The look on his face kept me going. "So we uh, we traded..."
"For -this- car? That old one, for -this- one?" He wasn't buying it.
"Yeah, dad, he said that one was special to him, and this one's--"
"This one looks like it just came off the lot! We paid four thousand dollars for that old one, and you're telling me some guy wanted to trade it for one that looks like it probably cost a million?"
"It uh... he said it was his old one... dad... I..." I look back to Bee, like somehow I'd get help from him on this. I could've sworn I saw him sinking down on his tires. "I mean, he uh... he said he was the one that got that... that custom paint job done on it."
"Oh really."
"Yeah, and... he had it done on this one too, see?"
"I don't know. I still don't see how someone would want to trade that one for this one. I mean, the two aren't even remotely in the same price bracket, and you'd have to be crazy to--"
"Dad! I-- he said he could get the old one fixed up!"
"Yeah, well, so could you! And this one's--"
"--got problems-- quirks, I mean!" Sorry, Bee. "--too! That's why he was willing to let this one go."
He shot me a look of renewed suspicion. "What kind of problems?"
Crap again. "Uh... he said there was... uh... electrical ones?"
My dad sighed, not looking impressed.
"You know, -funny- stuff. Air conditioning acting up, the fans... the uh... the radio! The radio keeps changing stations like nuts sometimes."
"The radio." He eyed me again, scrutinizing. "He could replace the radio easy. That's no reason to let it go so cheap. Something tells me you're trying to pull something on me here, Sam, and I don't like it."
"Dad, I'm serious! Look, you try listening to the radio in this car!" I opened the door and climbed in, though I didn't have to do anything but pretend to turn on the electrical systems with the key, and wave my hand at the radio. Bee was already turning it on before I touched it, and immediately, something came on, a female singer with a saxophone behind her.
"Little robbers on my block,
Little robbers gonna pick my lock
If I don't watch out..."
My dad wasn't impressed. He shook his head, about to say something, when the song switched, a male voice over a catchy, synthesized melody.
"Because seen through these eyes,
We lead a double life
No one would know
Check it out, stepping out, here I go..."
"See, dad? I told you. Look, I'm not even touching it!"
He rolled his eyes, but leaned over to look into the car anyway, as though he could figure out what was causing it by peeking at the dashboard. It switched again while he did, and I was leaning back in the seat so as not to obstruct his view, hands away and opened, innocently up by my head.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For doing the jobs that nobody wants to."
I reached over to turn on the fans, just a low setting, but they came on full, and then died down.
"And thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For helping me escape just when I needed to..."
Thanks, Bee. Don't overdo it on the themes, though, please? The fans came up on full again, and my dad sighed, shaking his head and standing up straight again as the music changed once more, a female singer again, synthed.
"All the money in the world won't buy you peace of mind
You can have it all but you still won't be satisfied...
Money can't buy it.... oh, baby..."
I turned the volume down on the radio. "See, dad? This is why he let me have it so cheap."
"Sam...." He paused, looking tired of this. "Look. If it's an electrical problem, it's probably going to cost a lot to fix, or he'd have already fixed it in this car. Just trust me on this one. The other one might have been old, but you get a wrench and some WD-40, and you're good. The new cars, they aren't as easy to fix. They--"
"Mikaela likes this one better!" I blurted.
It got him to pause. "Yeah?"
I switched off the fans as they blew in my face again. "Yeah, she uh... she said she wanted to work on the car with me. We're going to get some manuals and stuff, and uh.. make it our project. You know?"
"She's into cars?"
"She... she said she likes doing things on them, yeah." And then I remembered what she said, about some guys, and girls with mechanics knowledge. "You know, oil changes and stuff." My dad's do-it-himself attitude toward his garden came to mind. Better safe than sorry. "She looked it over before we left... checked the oil then."
"Really." A pause, something in his expression telling me he was picturing an alternate reality in which he was the eighteen year old high school student with the new Camaro. "So did you watch her and learn how to do it yourself, at least?"
"....Well... I uh...."
He actually smiled at that. "Didn't learn a thing, did you."
"I did too!"
"But not how to change the oil?"
I could feel my cheeks heating up despite myself. "Daaaad!"
He stepped around to Bee's front, looking over the sleek curves and new paint job. "So that's what took you so long to get back, huh?"
"Uh... yeah." Letting my dad think I was busy drooling over my girlfriend over the car's engine seemed like a better idea than telling him I was busy drooling over my girlfriend while waiting for Ratchet to finish reattaching a giant yellow robot's legs.
Quietly, I leaned against the steering wheel, resting my forehead on my arm so he couldn't see me. "Thanks, Bee," I whispered, giving the front of the dashboard a little pat with my other hand. The radio, still quiet, switched songs again, turning up just loud enough for me to hear. Male singer this time.
"...All you do is call me,
I'll be anything you need.
You could have a big dipper
Going up and down, all around the bends.
You could have a bumper car, bumping
This amusement never ends..."
It took my dad a good long moment of inspecting the car, a smile on his face that he probably didn't think I'd seen, before he stepped back to the driver's side and put his hands on the roof, trying to resume looking stern about it all. "I still think it's a bit too sweet a deal..."
"Dad," I say, "He works in the government. He can probably afford ten Camaros a year or something. If the old one has some sort of sentimental value to him...."
He rubbed his stubble. "Sam.... if this car's electrical problems cause it to blow up or something--"
"I'll pay for it. I know. I've got insurance. That was another one of the conditions for having a car in the first place, remember?"
"I mean, if you end up getting stranded somewhere--"
"That's why I have a cell phone. I won't get stranded, dad."
He sighed, nodding, looking the car over once more. There was silence between us for a moment, while the radio continued to play, having switched songs again already.
"Piece of shit car,
I got a piece of shit car,
He got a piece of shit car..."
I pulled the key back out of the ignition, killing the radio quickly. He's already buying it, Bee. No need for further self-depreciation.
"So this is going to be sort of a project for the two of you, huh?" He rubbed the stubble on his chin a little with one hand, considering it.
"Yup."
Another moment passed, and then he nodded, patting Bee a bit as he stood up. "Well...."
I finally breathed a sigh of relief, though I didn't take my eyes off him.
He was quiet. "Damn nice car you've got, son. Damn nice car."
"Thanks, dad."
He nodded a little again, and turned, heading back up to the porch, where Mojo was sitting. I watched him go back inside, his walk announcing that he was busy daydreaming.
"Well," I said, finally breaking the most recent silence. "Looks like we're in the clear, Bee."
The radio came on again softly.
"Just the two of us...
We can make it if we try,
Just the two of us....
Just the two of us..."
I think my laugh must've killed his reception then or something. "Your voice still needs some repairs, doesn't it..."
The radio came back on for a moment.
"Maybe at a better time, when I can get online
And tell you what's on my mind
And then we can conversate, maybe we can conversate..."
"You want me to get online? ....all right, I can do that...." I gave the steering wheel a pat and stepped out, stretching, feeling a lot better now that the conversation with my dad was over. "So... I guess I'll talk to you in a minute, then....?"
I got the feeling he'd be grinning, if cars could. Instead, he just settled for rocking a little in place.
I hurried upstairs to my room, heading right for my computer to sign on.
Yeah, my dad was right. It's a damn nice car that can talk to you on your messenger program, and I wouldn't trade him for the world.
They never did show how Sam was able to explain having a new Camaro instead of the old one, to his parents.
So. This is what you get, when I'm dead tired and giggling too much to myself over my mind's weird wanderings.
Not sure where I want to go with this, or if it's done. But I thought it was amusing, at least, at stupid o'clock, so I'm posting it.
Rated PG for a few choice words and suggestions, or it'd be G. I'm not so great with figuring out ratings sometimes, but it's a total gen ficlet.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah... What's this?" my dad demanded, stepping out of the house and coming down to the driveway. His face was a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
"What's what?" I tried, turning the key and hearing the engine's purr die down. I stood up, Bee opening the door for me, and stepped out.
"This car. Where'd this come from? Where's yours?"
"This is mine," I manage, realizing what the problem is just a second too late.
He shoots me a Look. "Where's the car I bought you?"
"Uh..." Crap. Thankfully, Mojo comes running after my dad at that moment, and I look over to him. Maybe I cold divert the subject to something else, something-- "Dad?" I start, "What happened to the garden? I thought those guys trashed it."
"We got back and they'd fixed it. Said there was some kind of mix-up. Now quit changing the subject. Where's your old car?"
Thank you, dad. I reach down to pick up Mojo before he can pee on Bee's tire, and set him off to the side. "Off the car, Mojo." I get a whine in reply, but the dog wanders off, and I face my dad again. "One of the government guys traded me for it."
"What?" A skeptical look.
"No, really! Uh... one of them said he likes the old ones, and he was looking really hard at mine, and... uh..." The look on his face kept me going. "So we uh, we traded..."
"For -this- car? That old one, for -this- one?" He wasn't buying it.
"Yeah, dad, he said that one was special to him, and this one's--"
"This one looks like it just came off the lot! We paid four thousand dollars for that old one, and you're telling me some guy wanted to trade it for one that looks like it probably cost a million?"
"It uh... he said it was his old one... dad... I..." I look back to Bee, like somehow I'd get help from him on this. I could've sworn I saw him sinking down on his tires. "I mean, he uh... he said he was the one that got that... that custom paint job done on it."
"Oh really."
"Yeah, and... he had it done on this one too, see?"
"I don't know. I still don't see how someone would want to trade that one for this one. I mean, the two aren't even remotely in the same price bracket, and you'd have to be crazy to--"
"Dad! I-- he said he could get the old one fixed up!"
"Yeah, well, so could you! And this one's--"
"--got problems-- quirks, I mean!" Sorry, Bee. "--too! That's why he was willing to let this one go."
He shot me a look of renewed suspicion. "What kind of problems?"
Crap again. "Uh... he said there was... uh... electrical ones?"
My dad sighed, not looking impressed.
"You know, -funny- stuff. Air conditioning acting up, the fans... the uh... the radio! The radio keeps changing stations like nuts sometimes."
"The radio." He eyed me again, scrutinizing. "He could replace the radio easy. That's no reason to let it go so cheap. Something tells me you're trying to pull something on me here, Sam, and I don't like it."
"Dad, I'm serious! Look, you try listening to the radio in this car!" I opened the door and climbed in, though I didn't have to do anything but pretend to turn on the electrical systems with the key, and wave my hand at the radio. Bee was already turning it on before I touched it, and immediately, something came on, a female singer with a saxophone behind her.
"Little robbers on my block,
Little robbers gonna pick my lock
If I don't watch out..."
My dad wasn't impressed. He shook his head, about to say something, when the song switched, a male voice over a catchy, synthesized melody.
"Because seen through these eyes,
We lead a double life
No one would know
Check it out, stepping out, here I go..."
"See, dad? I told you. Look, I'm not even touching it!"
He rolled his eyes, but leaned over to look into the car anyway, as though he could figure out what was causing it by peeking at the dashboard. It switched again while he did, and I was leaning back in the seat so as not to obstruct his view, hands away and opened, innocently up by my head.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For doing the jobs that nobody wants to."
I reached over to turn on the fans, just a low setting, but they came on full, and then died down.
"And thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For helping me escape just when I needed to..."
Thanks, Bee. Don't overdo it on the themes, though, please? The fans came up on full again, and my dad sighed, shaking his head and standing up straight again as the music changed once more, a female singer again, synthed.
"All the money in the world won't buy you peace of mind
You can have it all but you still won't be satisfied...
Money can't buy it.... oh, baby..."
I turned the volume down on the radio. "See, dad? This is why he let me have it so cheap."
"Sam...." He paused, looking tired of this. "Look. If it's an electrical problem, it's probably going to cost a lot to fix, or he'd have already fixed it in this car. Just trust me on this one. The other one might have been old, but you get a wrench and some WD-40, and you're good. The new cars, they aren't as easy to fix. They--"
"Mikaela likes this one better!" I blurted.
It got him to pause. "Yeah?"
I switched off the fans as they blew in my face again. "Yeah, she uh... she said she wanted to work on the car with me. We're going to get some manuals and stuff, and uh.. make it our project. You know?"
"She's into cars?"
"She... she said she likes doing things on them, yeah." And then I remembered what she said, about some guys, and girls with mechanics knowledge. "You know, oil changes and stuff." My dad's do-it-himself attitude toward his garden came to mind. Better safe than sorry. "She looked it over before we left... checked the oil then."
"Really." A pause, something in his expression telling me he was picturing an alternate reality in which he was the eighteen year old high school student with the new Camaro. "So did you watch her and learn how to do it yourself, at least?"
"....Well... I uh...."
He actually smiled at that. "Didn't learn a thing, did you."
"I did too!"
"But not how to change the oil?"
I could feel my cheeks heating up despite myself. "Daaaad!"
He stepped around to Bee's front, looking over the sleek curves and new paint job. "So that's what took you so long to get back, huh?"
"Uh... yeah." Letting my dad think I was busy drooling over my girlfriend over the car's engine seemed like a better idea than telling him I was busy drooling over my girlfriend while waiting for Ratchet to finish reattaching a giant yellow robot's legs.
Quietly, I leaned against the steering wheel, resting my forehead on my arm so he couldn't see me. "Thanks, Bee," I whispered, giving the front of the dashboard a little pat with my other hand. The radio, still quiet, switched songs again, turning up just loud enough for me to hear. Male singer this time.
"...All you do is call me,
I'll be anything you need.
You could have a big dipper
Going up and down, all around the bends.
You could have a bumper car, bumping
This amusement never ends..."
It took my dad a good long moment of inspecting the car, a smile on his face that he probably didn't think I'd seen, before he stepped back to the driver's side and put his hands on the roof, trying to resume looking stern about it all. "I still think it's a bit too sweet a deal..."
"Dad," I say, "He works in the government. He can probably afford ten Camaros a year or something. If the old one has some sort of sentimental value to him...."
He rubbed his stubble. "Sam.... if this car's electrical problems cause it to blow up or something--"
"I'll pay for it. I know. I've got insurance. That was another one of the conditions for having a car in the first place, remember?"
"I mean, if you end up getting stranded somewhere--"
"That's why I have a cell phone. I won't get stranded, dad."
He sighed, nodding, looking the car over once more. There was silence between us for a moment, while the radio continued to play, having switched songs again already.
"Piece of shit car,
I got a piece of shit car,
He got a piece of shit car..."
I pulled the key back out of the ignition, killing the radio quickly. He's already buying it, Bee. No need for further self-depreciation.
"So this is going to be sort of a project for the two of you, huh?" He rubbed the stubble on his chin a little with one hand, considering it.
"Yup."
Another moment passed, and then he nodded, patting Bee a bit as he stood up. "Well...."
I finally breathed a sigh of relief, though I didn't take my eyes off him.
He was quiet. "Damn nice car you've got, son. Damn nice car."
"Thanks, dad."
He nodded a little again, and turned, heading back up to the porch, where Mojo was sitting. I watched him go back inside, his walk announcing that he was busy daydreaming.
"Well," I said, finally breaking the most recent silence. "Looks like we're in the clear, Bee."
The radio came on again softly.
"Just the two of us...
We can make it if we try,
Just the two of us....
Just the two of us..."
I think my laugh must've killed his reception then or something. "Your voice still needs some repairs, doesn't it..."
The radio came back on for a moment.
"Maybe at a better time, when I can get online
And tell you what's on my mind
And then we can conversate, maybe we can conversate..."
"You want me to get online? ....all right, I can do that...." I gave the steering wheel a pat and stepped out, stretching, feeling a lot better now that the conversation with my dad was over. "So... I guess I'll talk to you in a minute, then....?"
I got the feeling he'd be grinning, if cars could. Instead, he just settled for rocking a little in place.
I hurried upstairs to my room, heading right for my computer to sign on.
Yeah, my dad was right. It's a damn nice car that can talk to you on your messenger program, and I wouldn't trade him for the world.