Chapter 4: Out With the Old, in With the New
When summer turned into fall, the white F-150 who VB was living with was packed up by his owner so he could leave. And, he was overjoyed to be doing so.
"My owner's moving out!" he yelled. "The best thing that could have happened to me!"
"But who will I talk with?" VB whined.
"Tom, the old Toyota Tundra next door."
"But he's mental!" the van complained.
"I know, perfect match for you, ha?"
It wasn't long before the truck's owner loaded him with the last of his stuff and he left.
Now, besides VB, the only cars who came around regularly were the two old lady cars whose owners worked at a beauty shop which was connected to VB's owners' house. One of them was Henrietta, VB's owner's mom's car, and the other was VB's owner's aunt's car, an ugly silver 2004 Saturn Ion.
When VB wasn't at work, he sat at home with two old ladies who didn't understand or care for any of his jokes, much less anything he said. The only male car who lived nearby was the engine-crazed Toyota Tundra next door, who VB never spoke to except to tease anyway.
As the year 2013 came to a close, and January rolled in, it began to snow. One day that VB's owner stayed home from work a very dark gray, almost black 2010 Hyundai Santa Fe pulled in. He was a mid-sized SUV.
"Who the poop are you?" VB demanded when the SUV's owner walked in.
"My owner might be moving into the apartment downstairs," explained the Santa Fe. "He's come to check it out."
VB decided not to call this vehicle a poop; he sounded nice enough.
"My owner lives upstairs," VB explained. "I go to work with him almost every day, and, in spring and summer, his wife and the kids take me to beaches and parks and cemeteries and stuff."
"When did they buy you?" asked the Santa Fe.
"Only a couple of months ago, in March," said VB. "My owners bought me because they have seven kids and their other car couldn't hold them all."
"Wow! Seven?" the SUV exclaimed. "Doesn't it get kind of...annoying...with all those kids around?"
"Not really," answered VB. "It's fun. What's your name?"
"I'm Matt," he replied. "What about you?"
"My name's Vanne, but you can call me VB."
"Okay," said Matt. "Nice to meet you...VB."
"When did your owner buy you?" asked VB.
"Back in 2012," Matt replied.
"Why don't you like kids?"
"I do," answered Matt. "I just figured it must get annoying with so many of them around all the time. I'm only used to carrying my owner and his dog."
"You have a dog?" VB asked.
"Yeah."
"Doesn't the dog bounce your shocks?"
"No...what do you mean?" asked Matt.
"Aren't dogs really hyper and bouncy?"
"And I thought kids were hyper! No, not my dog. She's old."
"My imaginary dog's old too," said VB.
"I..maginary dog?" asked Matt, confused.
"Yeah, I made her up just now," VB explained. "And she's blue."
"Well, I've never seen a blue dog before," Matt answered.
"Oh, well, she's...what color is your dog?"
"She's...black..."
"My dog is black too."
"Okay." Matt was silent. Was it just him or was this van a little...neurotic? Never mind, he told himself.
"Are you moving in?" questioned VB.
"I said maybe, not definitely. I hope so, anyways. Driving from place to place really makes a car's tires ache."
"Not me, I like driving. I go to work all the time, and it's a whole hour away. In summer, my owners drove me to New Hampshire, and that made my tires and my engine ache."
"I can imagine it would," Matt muttered.
"Matt," said VB. "I want you to move in. I would like that."
"Okay, VB," replied Matt. "I'd like to move in, too."
In a short time, Matt and his owner left. Matt's owner had made one decision: He was moving in.
So, over the next few weeks, Matt came and went a lot. He brought over all of his owner's furniture, appliances, and supplies. One time, he even brought the dog along too.
While Matt's owner was inside, fixing things and setting things up, VB got to know the SUV better. He spoke to him anytime he came over and VB was around. They got to know each other well, and became good friends.
One evening, less than two months later, VB came home from work rather glum.
"What's the matter, VB?" questioned Matt, who had just recently moved in.
"Nothing," VB muttered.
"Come on, Vanne, you can tell me," prompted Matt.
"Okay fine," he mumbled. "I had this friend, and now she's not my friend!" VB blurted.
"What kind of friend?" asked Matt, although he was quite sure he already knew the answer.
"You know," answered VB. "A... girlfriend."
"Oh, I see," Matt muttered. "What kind of car?"
"A Chevy Express van," responded VB. "You know, like my mom's friend Devan who lives up the street, just a lot younger."
"Look VB," said Matt. "I know it sounds weird, but vans and other vans don't usually go together well as a couple. Neither do Fords and Chevys. They hate each other."
"You're not a van! Or a Ford! How should you know? Besides, my mom is a van and my dad is a cutaway bus-van. They go together just fine!"
"There are exceptions. Plus, your dad isn't even a real van. No offense."
"How dare you say that? My dad is the realest-"
"Sorry, VB, but you said he was a cutaway bus. Right?"
"Yes. But he's still real."
"So, VB, let's get back to your girlfriend. I wouldn't take it so hard if I was you. You're only young. Trust me, when you do find the car for you, you won't regret waiting."
"Don't you mean when I find the van for me?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
"I couldn't be with a dinky little car, Matt."
"You never know," Matt replied.
"Yes I do."
"Okay, okay."
"Sorry Matt. I'm just frustrated."
"Don't worry. I understand." He paused. "So," he continued. "Why did the van split up with you?"
"She came up with a bunch of excuses just because she likes some other truck better. She went on about how I should change my brake fluid, and replace my belts."
"You seem to run good to me, VB," Matt muttered.
"Well, Emily doesn't think so. She told me I need some w-d40 on my rear diff."
"Ignore the rust-bucket, VB," Matt said. "If you know what's right and true, don't pay attention to what other cars think about you."
"I'll try to ignore her next time I go to work. That's tomorrow, actually."
"Don't worry," Matt said. "Ignore her and you'll be fine."
"She's with a different truck now," VB went on. "An F-250 who's black and lifted."
"Who cares?"
"Not me. I'm gonna show that truck who's the boss tomorrow."
"You won't...interfere...will you?"
"I'm only gonna talk to him."
"Okay. Just don't send him bouncing out of his shocks with anger. Who knows what he could do to you? He might interfere."
"Don't worry, Matt. Everything's under control. I'm going to get some sleep now."
"Okay, VB."
VB went to sleep without a problem, but Matt stayed up a little while. Was it true that all VB would do was speak to the truck? Would the van, as young and boisterous as he was, interfere while his owner was driving, and kill, not only his owner, but maybe himself too? A memory came back to Matt of something VB had said to him shortly after he first moved in. He had explained with enthusiasm how much he loved smashing things and running things over. He had also talked about the kids putting old toys they no longer cared about under his tires. One, he had even told Matt that he had almost interfered and turned straight into a gas station while his owner was driving him because of how hungry he was. Would VB interfere for revenge and go smashing right into the truck who had stolen his girl? Matt understood how oblivious VB to the dangers of interference, at his careless and young age. He decided to have a word with the van early tomorrow morning, before he left to work. Maybe he could make VB understand that smashing could only go as far as little toys under his tires, and anything more could end in serious trouble for him and his owner.
Finally feeling better, Matt managed to fall into a restless sleep.
Suddenly, he was back in time to yesterday night, talking to VB.
"You won't...interfere...will you?" Matt found himself saying again.
"I'm only gonna talk to him," was VB's odd reply.
He had never told Matt that he wouldn't interfere! He hadn't even answered Matt's question. Matt tried to warn VB, but he could not speak. Don't you know the dangers of interference, you stupid young van? He wanted to shout, If you try to hit the truck, you'll smash yourself! You'll injure your owner, or worse, kill him! Listen to me, VB, I know you can hear me!
Suddenly, Matt awoke to the sound of an engine starting up. He realized that
it was morning, and VB was already leaving for work!
It's too late now, thought Matt as the van drove forward slowly. VB flashed his headlights at Matt before he left. Matt remained still, watching the final puffs of exhaust rise into the air. Was that the last he would ever see of VB?
