Disclaimer: This came into my head last night on the way home from work. Short, but to the point. It's a little bit different from the other chapters I think, and the car is the copy & paste of my car. So if it seems like I'm having a love affair, it's because I am. Read, Review, and Spread the word.
HA
She was his favorite thing to watch, at least while driving. She always had a smile on her face: night, day, heavy traffic or deserted road, that smile was always on her lips. She moved with the automobile on the corners, her eyes mischievous as she entered her own world. When using anything found on the steering column, she was so fluid and subtle that no one ever really caught it. It was as if she controlled the car with her mind; that she and the machine were one living being. As if the car were a living being, and an extension of her own body.
And with her behind the wheel, maybe it was.
It was as unique as she was, every piece inside and out exuding her presence. The hand-me-down '95 Subaru was red, not flashy but noticeable. It had been rear-ended, causing the gas gage to almost always read out as empty; she had learned to rely on the tripometer. A necklace he had made for her, purple Marti Gras beads and a small toy model of a yellow 1931 Duesenberg Model J Blind Quarter Club Sedan hanging from the rear-view mirror. – She always said it was the car of her deepest dreams, and that toy was as close as she'd ever get to owning one. – There was a cigarette burn marring the leather in the back seat. The floor mats had long since been discarded to the trunk. Duck tape held in the front right head light from when she backed into the garage door. Dents on all doors as well as the hood rested proudly, displaying a history new cars can't boast. Four stickers on the back window helped the car stick out like even more of a sore thumb: Who Would Jesus Bomb; Rubber Soul; Driver Hammered Get Nailed; and Nuclear Arms Can't Hug.
It was more than just a Subaru Legacy, it was her Legacy. And she named her Christine.
At the current moment, Isaac Berman was buckled in the passenger seat of his girlfriend's car, shifting his gaze from the reflection of the bright numbers of her stereo in the night windshield, to the smile on her lips as she lightly tapped the wheel in time with the music. Oncoming headlights alerted and made her smile widen; he didn't even see her shift her hand as the brights in Christine were replaced by the regular driving lights. As soon as the other car passed, the brights resumed, and that smile was replaced with a smirk. Before he had the chance to ask, he felt the air rush through his window, and turned to see a fast moving train on the tracks beside them. Well, as much as he could see with the dark, at least. Her window was also rolled down, and the music turned itself up all while Isaac smiled as he realized what his insanely entertaining girlfriend was about to do.
"WHOO!" she cheered as she shifted out of drive and into third gear – an action he was able to catch. He felt the machine surrounding him change, and a quick glance at the speedometer told him that they were approaching sixty on the winding country back roads.
Had it been someone else, or were he a lesser man, he would have been nervous. But she had done this many times before, both with and without him. She knew exactly what she was doing.
For twelve miles they raced that industrial train, power-fisting their arms out the windows and cheering every time they crossed paths via tunnels and bridges. Laughing every time the engineer gave them some sort of sign that he knew they were there. All the engineers had long since known her antics, much like those of her father.
At last, the two racing transports reached the outskirts of Hillwood City, and the train let loose its blaring horn early as it curved towards the industrial area. The two in the car honked their horn, waving as well as they slowed to adjust to the speed difference.
Isaac went back to watching her as she hummed a bit before pulling off to stop at the nearest gas station for slushies and maybe a quickie-mart corndog.
"What?" she finally asked as she gently killed the engine, rubbing the steering wheel lovingly as she stared down her boyfriend.
"Just wondering how you manage to drive your car like it's a living thing."
Katie Gammelthorpe smirked before leaning over to kiss his lips softly.
"That's because she is. Now come on, you promised you'd pay this time." She laughed while slipping out of the driver's seat, hauling a bemused Isaac behind her. If only he looked at Christine the way Katie did, with open eyes, then maybe he would be able to hear the overheating sigh of exhaustion at racing a train. Or how when you look at the front just right, it's as though the headlights were eyes and the bumper a smiling mouth. Or how when he holds a soft hand to the metal body, he can feel the soft tingling of steel flesh coming alive.
Katie heaved a sigh matching Christine's as she pushed the convenience store door open while sending a wistful glance back at her metal companion. But as she caught the gaze of the woman behind the counter, the two shared a secretive smile and a knowing nod. She laughed, realization hitting her with a strong case of typical Gammelthorpe humor.
Isaac was just a boy after all, and boys just can't understand the sophistication of personification.
HA
