The Porsche with the Pinstripe Tattoo
Chapter 3:
" Excuse me, Ma'am," a male voice grunted, waking her.
Sally opened her eyes. In front of her was an old Mercury coupe decked out in police livery.
" The Wheel Well Motel is closed," he stated.
" Huh," she uttered then took a closer look at the building.
It was ran down, covered in cobwebs, and there were pieces of trash everywhere. Sally turned back to the officer.
" Sorry," the Porsche apologized, bashfully. " I couldn't tell. It was dark when I came through."
" Dark," the officer raised his windshields. " You mean to tell me you were crossing the desert at night?...Where are you from?"
" Um, Los Angeles," Sally replied.
" Ah, a city girl," the officer stated, rolling his eyes. " That explains everything. And where are you headed?"
" Oh, I was just taking a drive," the Porsche retorted, shifting. " In fact, I was planning on turning back around."
The black and white car eyed her suspiciously. Sally turned the keys to her ignition. Her engine was still sputtering. She stalled again.
" Um, is there a fuel station around here," the Porsche asked, looking around.
" There is," the Mercury answered then gestured behind him. " Not too far from here, actually. There is also a tow truck. Speaking of which, would you like me to get him for you?""
" A tow would be great," Sally chimed. " Thanks."
" No problem," the officer stated, turning around. " Wait here."
He disappeared down the hill. A few minutes later, a rusty old tow truck pulled up.
" Well, stick me in axle grease and call me slick," the tow truck beamed. " A real live customer. And I thought Sheriff was pulling my cable. The name's Mater, by the way. And who might you be, Miss?"
" Um, Sally," the Porsche introduced.
" Nice to meet you, Miss Sally," Mater tweeted. " So, where would you like to go?"
" The sheriff said something about a gas station," Sally began. " Can you take me to it, please?"
" Depends," the tow truck snickered. "Ain't I the world's best backwards driver?"
" Um," the Porsche stuttered.
Mater hooked his cable to her and began towing her to town. Sally observed her surroundings. The town was tiny and some of the buildings were falling apart, including a strange looking cone themed motel. Mater pulled into the gas station, stopping at one of the pumps.
" Is that what I think it is," a green Motorama beamed, approaching Sally. " It is! We have a customer! What can I get you, Sugar?"
" Hi, do you have any engine coolant," Sally requested. " I'm a little parched."
" Of course, Sweetie," the Motorama chimed. " Anything else?"
" A tank of gas, please," the Porsche uttered.
" Oh, that's easy," the green car stepped on a pedal on the ground.
A nozzle dipped into Sally's tank, pumping fuel into her.
" Be right back," the green car went inside.
Sally observed the fuel station, noting the retro sparkplug theme. There was also a sign that said Flo's V8 Café. The Porsche heard talking and laughter. She looked back down. In front of her was a WWII Willy's Jeep, a VW Bus, a Ford Model T, a Chevy Impala Low Rider, a FIAT, a forklift, and a fire truck. They all seemed to know each other. Did they live here? The Motorama returned with the engine coolant, serving it.
" Here you go, Sugar," she chimed.
" Thanks, uh," Sally paused.
" Flo," Flo introduced then gestured toward the others. " That's Sarge, Fillmore, Lizzie, Ramone, Luigi, Guido, and Red. You already met Sheriff and Mater."
" Do you all live here," the Porsche asked.
" Girl, you're the only one who doesn't," Flo replied.
The pump clicked, signaling it was done. Sally sipped on the engine coolant as she observed the residents more. Sarge and Fillmore were arguing, Luigi and Guido were talking to each other in Italian, and Lizzie was babbling to a very quiet Red. Ramone drove over to Flo.
" Hey, Baby," he greeted." I see you got a customer that doesn't live here."
" I do," Flo feigned ignorance then grinned, winking. " I didn't notice."
" What's your name, Man," Ramone turned to Sally.
" Sally," the Porsche stated. " You must be Ramone."
" The one and only," Ramone chimed. " So, where you headed?"
" Oh, I just thought I would take a short drive and return home," the Porsche replied.
" And where's that," the purple car with flames asked. " Seligman?"
" Los Angeles, actually," the blue car corrected.
" Dude, that is not a short drive," Ramone chuckled. " Los Angeles is, like, six hours from here."
Sally froze, blinking. Did she really drive that far? She swallowed her coolant, hard.
" It is," the Porsche squeaked, grinning. " Oh my gosh. I better be going then. Thanks for everything. Bye."
She turned the key, again. Her engine still sputtered. All of a sudden, something under her hood banged. Next, Sally began smoking.
" Okay," a blue Hornet hollered as he pushed through the crowd. " Who blew a headgasket?!"
He stopped and stared at Sally. The Porsche nervously smiled and waved at him.
" Doc, this is Sally," Flo introduced. " She's from LA. Sally, this is Doc. He's the town doctor."
" Pleasure to meet you," Doc grunted then noted the smoke. " So, you're the one making all that racket."
" Yeah, sorry about that," Sally apologized then went to turn the keys again, making her engine sputter louder.
" DON'T DO," Doc bellowed as he tried to stop her, but it was too late.
This time, white smoke came out of her tailpipe. Her engine stalled again.
" That's not good," the Hornet commented as he waved the smoke away, eyes widened. " Mater, take Sally to my clinic!"