This may sound confusing, but in a moment, you will understand. Mine has always been the type of family that named things we were fondest of, such as inanimate objects,and even moving ones. Cars,were prime examples.We have had cars named Ralph,Charlie, Esmerelda, princess, the Queen Mary,and then, of course, "The Bomb." She was the last word in elegant beauty,and sporty-ness combined.We got her, sleek, beautiful and brand-new, through Mom and Dad's new car dealership/used car sales/garage and gas station.She was one of the prettiest cars that ever rolled off the assembly line, At Hudson Inc. Although, to me, all Hudsons are beautiful, she was exceptional.She was butter yellow, with a white rag top convertible, and inside, the seats were deep red Moroccan leather,the floor was covered with red carpet,and the windows and seats were all power,as was the top. The only thing she lacked in the power department, was the steering,but once one is used to having to begin turning the wheel to make a turn in the middle of the block, so to speak, it was no big deal.Due to that "flaw" Mom and Dad both had amazing upper body strength, and all three of us children had a chance to drive the bomb, and we owed our powerful arms to that flaw.Digression over.Now it may not sound as though she was pretty, but she was,with wide white-wall tires, and all the steel and chrome sparkled all the time, and because she was heavy,and large, there was such power under the hood! So much so, that Dad used her as a demonstrator. I was very little, but I remember vividly the day I was allowed to go along with Dad as he showed the bomb to a customer.I got to ride in front, because on the maiden voyage, Dad always put the prospective buyer in the back seat.We would glide sedately out of the lot, and then Dad would bring us, deliberately to a stop light.Even if the light was green, he would stop,and even put the car in park.Taking from his wallet, a ten dollar bill, he would moisten his finger,and then transfer the wetness to the bill,and paste it on the top of the front seat, with a great flourish,and begin the usual bargain." Now, D.J." he would say,"I have here a ten spot, which I have wet down, so it doesn't slip off this leather seat all by itself. And all I want you to do, is sit back and relax.In a moment, I am going to hit the accelerator,demonstrating to you the power of this vehicle.Now, here's the deal, D.J. If you can reach that ten dollar bill by the time I reach that traffic light,two blocks down, you can have it, free and clear,okay?" And the customer would say, OKAY! Dad would turn back around, and check the light, drop the transmission into gear,and with his foot on the clutch, rev the engine just a little bit.On my ride-along, he said very softly,sit still,and hold on.I did as I was told, but I had my eyes glued on that ten dollar bill,as did the fellow in the back seat.I could see him because the front seat was split, to facilitate reaching the back seat,and because both seats were independently adjustable.The light changed, Dad hit the gas, popped the clutch, and floored it! We peeled out, with one loud shriek! We did not lay rubber.The tires didn't smoke or spin.We went from first to passing gear in seconds,and all Dad did was skip second, and drop it right down into third! The man in the back seat didn't move forwards at all. He was driven right back into the seat, but you could see his face turning red as he tried manfully, with no success, to overcome the terrible force put upon his body to plaster him to that back of the seat,and into it! Dad smiled and muttered, watch his hands.Almost on cue, the man began to try to reach an arm forward to grab the money, still sitting on the top of the seat in front of him,to no avail! His hands opened and closed laboriously, but he couldn't even move his arms! With only seconds left until we reached the light, without slacking off the speed whatsoever, Dad said, now, get down on the floor,and cover your head! I never questioned my Dad. I did it, word for word, instantly.A second later, we came to a sudden and abrupt halt,with a little screeching of tires,and the customer came rocketing forward, hitting the back of the seat I had just exited, folding the back of it down on the seat with great force! He didn't even try for the bill now, he just righted himself, with great huffing and puffing,and pulled the seat back up, and went to sitting back down in the back seat,as though he was exhausted."Well!" Dad said, with his sweetest smile, eyes dancing as he turned toward his customer, " What did you think of that?"Then belatedly," Everybody alright?" I popped back up in my seat and smiled, and said, " I'm fine." The customer in the back seat sighed,and said," I'm not hurt,except for my pride." He said."I've never felt anything like that before In my life! I have got to have this car!" Dad shook his head,as he pocketed the ten dollar bill,to indicate that this car wasn't for sale,and on the slow, sedate drive back to the garage, he told D.J. of the safety features of a Hudson, how they are a cage of steel, and didn't just crumple up on impact,and whether he bought a straight eight, or a v-eight, it wouldn't matter if he did crack the block, he wouldn't have any water in the oil, and could keep driving it,that's how well designed the engines were.By the time we got back to the garage,D.J. was ready to sign on the bottom line,after one more question. "Tell me," He said," Have you ever lost a ten dollar bill?" Dad shook his head."No. In fact, I have been using the same ten for five years."
Five years later, after Hudson and Nash merged,and the garage was gone, we still had the bomb. Mother used it to drive to work,and we still used it for long trips out of town, because it was the only car either of them trusted over the road.I remember the excitement we felt that summer, as we packed to go to the lakes, for our vacation.We all had new togs to wear,and I had a new outfit, shorts and top, totally white,and I was wearing that new outfit,and should have been on top of the world, but something just didn't feel quite right,as I closed up my suitcase, and lugged it down the hallway to the kitchen,and out the kitchen door to the back yard, where the bomb was parked,and everyone stood around, looked up at me as I came down the stairs.Obviously, I was the one holding up our early departure,but even though Mother stood at the door jangling her keys, ready to lock up after me, and the looks I got should have made me move faster, I just didn't have it in me to do so. My suitcase was taken from me by an anxious hand, and quickly stowed in the huge trunk,and the trunk was slammed and locked. Dad said, "let's Go!" We all piled in the car,and headed out for our vacation.We barely made first Avenue, on our way out of town,and I told Mom, " I have to go to the bathroom." Everyone groaned." Why didn't you go...? " I said," I did.But now, I have to go again." Right in front of us, as we sat at the side street, was "Me Too" grocery store..(ahem) supermarket, one of the first of it's kind in our home town. Right next to that, on the corner across first Avenue, was a gas station.With speed and pick-up very reminiscent of that demonstration ride, Dad whipped the Bomb across the street,and into the gas station, where I was summarily ejected from the car to visit the Ladies room.After several minutes, Mother came and knocked on the door. "What's the hold-up?" Once I let her in,she went right back out, got my sister,and the car keys,and got my suitcase out of the trunk,and I could hear through the closed door of that ladies room another groan go up, from my father and brother, the men left sitting in the car, twiddling their thumbs while the girls held them up some more.My sister was given money and instructions,and dispatched to the "Me too", and my suitcase was opened,another pair of shorts chosen,and the white pair I had only worn for fifteen minutes, rinsed out in the sink,as well as my underwear,which was also replaced.When I reappeared, redressed, with a bottle of pop in my hand, my brother was beside himself with annoyance and irritation, and curiosity. What annoyed him the most was that no one would tell him what had happened,for obviously something had, and it was a secret. Everyones attitude towards me had changed.The whole family was being kind and solicitous of me,and that included Dad, after Mother whispered in his ear. The trip resumed, but now when I asked to make a bathroom stop, there was no questions,or groaning. Dad was patient when I took longer in the bathroom when we stopped for lunch,and Mother kept slipping me some mysterious pills, and then, I was given more pop, which my brother was denied, and forced to drink milk instead.Also, either my Mother or my sister kept lugging my suitcase back and forth from the car to the bathroom for me.Once we got to the lake and found our cabin, I didn't automatically jump into my swimming suit and run down to the lake with him.In fact, I didn't hardly move at all. I was pale and groggy, and opted for a nap instead,and nothing was said about me making my bed, or unpacking my suitcase.Yet,he and my sister were expected to do those things before they could go swimming.I could see by the way he looked at me that he was very mad at me for the sudden change in the status quo, so with typical brotherly insight,that night at dinner, he pipes up at the table and demands an explanation for the strange goings on. I said nothing.I just sat there staring down at my plate,and turned beet red,and wished I didn't have to eat at all. My Dad said," It's none of your business. Eat your dinner." Mother was no help.She said,"Really!" My sister just made things worse."The Idea!" My brothers eyes got large and round,and he stalked off, mad at everybody.But, a few days later, I was back to my old self again,and that seemed to mollify my brother, particularly since everyone else once again treated me as they normally did.He still looked at me strangely from time to time, during that two week vacation, but after he was secure that whatever had brought on this special treatment was over,he was again my big brother pal,and we swam and laughed together as before.
Once back at home,my Dad took me and my brother out for something, and as we pulled up on that side street, facing the"Me Too", as I was sitting in the middle of the back seat hanging over the front, I gazed at the store,oblivious to the conversation taking place in the front seat between my Dad and My brother.My brother made some sort of point,Dad answered him back,and I was remembering that day, and thinking about how much my life had changed that day.And then, I realized that it had been a month since...and knew that I needed to go to that store again.I said, "Me Too." My brother whipped his head around and said," Be quiet! You don't even know what we're talking about!"
I said," I know. I was just reading the sign of the store...Me Too. Dad,"I said," I need to go to the store." Dad turned to meet my eyes,and in a couple seconds, he got it. My brother was in the middle of saying" Oh, sure you were..." but his sarcastic come back was lost,as Dad turned once again into that solicitous one who was going to take me to the store, just because I asked. My brother watched in quiet amazement as Dad pulled into the store lot, gave me money,and let me go into the store all by myself. I never told my brother what the secret was, but I assume that somewhere along the way, he must have figured it out, when month after month, about the same time of the month,I was again given that "special treatment." I mean, after all. A guy can't continue to hold it against their baby sister if she is growing up, can he?
OUI?
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