I'm surprised I got this chapter out as fast as I did. MereMcQueen314, you are awesome! Thanks for the constant reviews! :D Anyway, I'm going to try to update this as much as possible. This chapter will probably be a little strange, but, it will make sense later on. Reviews are welcomed! Enjoy~ :)
When Georgia arrived at the tire shop, the first thing she noticed was that the leaning tower of tires was overwhelmingly tall if you got right up next to it. After marveling at it for a little while, the second thing she discovered was that there was no little blue forklift in sight. There was, however, a small yellow Fiat - the one who had been arguing about tires earlier in the day.
"Good mornin'," Georgia greeted, driving up to the shop's entrance. The Fiat drove out of his store to greet her with a smile and heavily accented hello.
"Ciao!" he said, stopping in front of her. "You-a come to my shop for a new set of tires?"
"No," she replied sheepishly. "I'm actually lookin' for a forklift by the name of Guido. Is he around here anywhere...?" Her eyes drifted up to the sign above the entrance, which read 'Luigi's Casa Della Tires'. She knew she was in the right place, and she guessed that the little Fiat was Luigi. "You're Luigi, right?" I might as well introduce myself if I'm going to be staying here for a month. It would be awkward if I didn't learn anyone's names. "My name is Georgia Weathers. I just came into town last night, so I have no idea where I'm goin'."
Luigi nodded, gesturing for Georgia to follow him into the shop. "Guido should-a be around here somewhere. Guido!"
From the back of the store, Georgia could hear the faint sound of crashing boxes, and some words that she could guess the meaning of by the speaker's tone of voice. "What was that...?" she questioned, glancing over at Luigi, who didn't look surprised at all.
"The boxes must-a have fell on him again," the Fiat mumbled, sighing in exasperation as he drove to the back of the store. "Guido! Are you all right?" Georgia followed him to the storage room, where a mountain of cardboard boxes had fallen over. Beneath the mess was a small blue forklift, who she deduced to be Guido. "Guido, there is-a someone here to-a see you."
Guido was speaking in rapid Italian, too fast for Georgia to even begin to make out the syllables of the words, but Luigi seemed to understand him just fine. "Yes, I know, the boxes are a fire hazard. We will-a get rid of them, but there is a lady here to-a see you, Guido!" Luigi pulled some boxes out from around the forklift's wheels, and Georgia pitched in to get the task of digging Guido out go by more quickly.
The little Italian's grill puckered in a frown, but he simply crossed his forklift arm...hand...things, and drove out of the storage room. "Ciao, signora," he greeted, nodding.
"Ciao," she returned. "The fire truck at the courthouse-"
"Red?"
"I think that's his name, yes. Anyway, the fire truck at the courthouse gave me a note, and that note lead me here to Casa Della Tires. Do you have the next note?"
Guido drove past her over to a small desk in the corner, retrieving a small folded piece of paper similar to the other three she had collected.
"No wonder Mrs. The King stopped-a by early this morning," Luigi commented. "So you-a are her daughter?"
"Mhm." Georgia smiled, driving over to Guido. "My parents and my uncle sent me on a wild goose chase around the town. By the way, Luigi, is it? And Guido. Your shop looked really cool last night when I drove into town. I like the tire tower outside, too."
"You like the Leaning Tower of Tires?" Luigi smiled proudly as Georgia reached for the note, which Guido handed over.
"Yeah, it's...authentic." She nodded. "How do you say 'thank you' in Italian?"
"Grazi!" Luigi replied.
"Grazi, Guido," she thanked, turning to the little forklift as she unfolded the note. This one was a change - it was written in Tex's tire writing. "This is different. Okay then." It read: So by now I guess you've figured out that this is a little scavenger hunt. You also probably think that since you've found my note, you're almost finished, right? You're not even close. After you leave the tire shop, drive back to the Cozy Cone and go into the main office.
"Do you-a know where to go next?" Luigi asked, looking excited.
"Yeah, I think so. Back to the Cozy Cone. Thanks - I mean, grazi!" Georgia waved and then sped out of the shop, pulling onto the road to get down to the Cozy Cone's main office. I wonder what this is? I feel like a kid again on Easter, looking for eggs with Gaskits in them... The drive down to the Cozy Cone only took a couple of minutes, and as she turned into the parking lot, she had to make a quick stop to let a large green big rig drive by. The side of the trailer he was hauling had the name 'Chick Hicks' written in dramatic letters across the side, and the racer's face was plastered across it.
Georgia watched the big rig drive down the street a little, before pulling into Flo's. Chick Hicks? What is he doing here in Radiator Springs...?
She pulled into the Cozy Cone parking lot, her thoughts stirred up considerably as she drove into the main office. She screeched to a halt, not having seen the car parked in front of the desk. She pulled back a little when she realized who it was, quickly shutting her mouth and hoping he didn't recognize her. We've only met once or twice before, and we hardly even spoke to each other. I don't think he'll remember me.
"Cone number 5," the pretty blue Porsche behind the desk said, sounding cheerful but slightly exasperated. She looked like she knew who this guy was, but she wasn't going to turn him out. Everybody still remembers him for what he did. She felt sorry - he made one huge mistake and that was how every car for the rest of, well, ever was going to remember him.
"Thanks," he mumbled, turning to leave. Georgia barely had time to reverse, her eyes widening slightly at how abruptly he had turned around. Chick glanced at her, did a double take, and skidded to a halt. He narrowed his eyes, looking her over once, twice. Where did he recognize this car from?
"Hello," Georgia started, offering him a smile. Chick's eyelids went up in a surprise and hers went up as well.
"Weathers," he said suddenly, scoffing.
"It's nice to see you, too, Chick," she greeted.
"'Nice to see you, too, Chick,'" he muttered, shaking his hood. As he drove away, she thought she heard him say something to the effect of, "Just like your dad, aren't you?"
Georgia sighed, her tank settling itself. Why did I get so nervous? It's Chick Hicks, and besides, I really don't think he's going to do anything. She ignored her inner questions and drove up to the desk. "Mornin'."
"Good morning," the Porsche greeted. By the name plate on the desk, Georgia discovered that her name was Sally. "I didn't make the connection last night when you checked into the motel."
"Connection?"
"Georgia Weathers," Sally stated. "I didn't make the connection to The King."
"Oh! Right, right. Most cars don't," Georgia answered, nodding. "I guess he left a note here, too?"
Sally nodded. "He did. But he told me not to give it to you."
"What?" Georgia looked confused, and queried, "What did he say?"
"Well, he told me that this whole scavenger hunt was going to be too easy if all you had to do was drive around collecting notes," Sally explained, a smile forming across her grill at the memory of Strip's bluntness about the whole thing.
Georgia leaned forward slightly. "And what do I need to do to get the note...?" She grinned slightly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she had to do something that was as crazy as her father was.
"You have to catch McQueen to get it."
"Catch McQueen? The Lightning McQueen?" she questioned, dumbfounded. "He's gotta be kiddin', right?"
Sally shook her hood, nodding to the entrance as an engine revved behind Georgia. "Nope. I'm pretty sure he was serious."
Of course. Leave it to Strip Weathers to think up something totally insane. She laughed to herself, shaking her hood. "Okay. Thank you, Sally." She reversed out of the main office, turning to face McQueen. "So are you going to make this easy, or am I really going to have to chase you down?"
Lightning smirked, shifting to one side of his tires. "I can't really ignore a legendary racer's request, so, you know."
"Wonderful. I'm ready whenever you are," Georgia remarked, gesturing with her tires. But before she even finished the sentence, McQueen had taken off out of the parking lot and was speeding across the pavement to get to the dirt road. She peeled out of the parking lot after him, feeling out of shape as she sped after the hot shot racecar.
It lasted a little while, Georgia driving around like a maniac trying to catch McQueen, but he had picked up a lot of tricks from the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.
"That boy can go," Strip laughed, shaking his hood. "And JR looks like she's just about had enough."
"I'm surprised she hasn't given up yet," Sheriff added, settling on his tires. He, Strip, and Tex were all parked in the nook of a small garage where Georgia and McQueen couldn't see them, but they could see the two younger cars. "What's her name now, Strip? JR?"
"That's what he calls her," Tex cut in, watching the two cars go back and forth. "Which doesn't really make sense, Strip."
"It makes perfect sense," King responded matter-of-factly. "Her name is Georgia Rian. JR."
"You spell Georgia with a 'J'?" Sheriff looked confused.
"Nope."
Tex shook his hood. "I told you, it doesn't make sense."
The three older cars looked on as Georgia and Lightning sped across the road, acting like little cars playing tag in the middle of a parking lot. Which was what they were doing - playing tag in the Cozy Cone parking lot, except Georgia was it and had been it for the entire game.
"When should I go 'arrest' them?" Sheriff questioned after another ten minutes of the madness.
"Well, since I have to make sure she's at the Wheel Well by one for lunch with Lynda and me, now would be as good a time as ever," Strip replied with a nod.
"Okie dokie then." Sheriff put on his 'arresting' voice, his sirens, and burst out of the garage and into the street. Lightning, right on cue, bolted off down the street, taking a hard left curve and disappearing. Georgia's eyes widened as she skidded to a halt, looking over at the sheriff. "Miss! What do you think you're doin'? Speedin' in my town! That's a disgrace!"
(Strip was in the background secretly laughing, but only because he realized Lynda was going to kill him for failing to tell her that this was part of the plan.)
"Dear Lord, Officer! No, you don't understand," Georgia started quickly, gesturing with her tires. "My father sent me on this crazy scavenger hunt to find all these notes, but apparently it was too easy, and so I had to catch McQueen to get the next note!" She couldn't believe that this was happening, especially at a time like this. Can this get any worse?
"Excuses, excuses! Mater!"
Before Georgia knew what to think, her hood was spinning, and a tow cable had been latched to her bumper, not to mention the quick application of a boot. Everybody was staring now, and Georgia's light blue fender was a shade of crimson embarrassment, the kind that comes from being publicly arrested for speeding after your legendary racecar father sends you on a random scavenger hunt. Nobody in their right minds would believe that story.
She tried to pretend that nobody was staring at her, and that really this wasn't happening, but she had never been good at denying things. She sighed in defeat as the tow truck pulled her down along the road. Her eyes scanned the crowd of faces and eyes, and the first pair that they connected with belonged to none other than Chick Hicks. He was watching her intently, the same shade of befuddlement that was on everyone else's faces mirrored on his.
But those eyes. They were the most intense eyes she had ever seen, and quickly she looked away, momentarily forgetting that she was being publicly arrested.