Category: cars

episode 37 of street dreams a novel

Episode 37

After about a fifteen minute ride Kerry and Hartley Popovich could hear Aleister trying to speak. At first, all Aleister could manage was a few garbled words. His two friends were now starting to hear some words and phrases that were decipherable. Aleister attempted to say a few things that sounded like:

“Where am I? I’m in pain. I need help.”

Kerry turned around and said to Aleister, “We were just at a party. You got the crap beat out of you by a big dude that you were arguing with. Someone called the cops so we picked you up and got you into Hartley’s car. The grey interior of the old Ford Tempo was stained with the blood from the wounds in Aleister’s head. The good news was that the blood coming from Aleister’s head was now starting to coagulate.

Hartley was now doing over 110 km/h when the car skidded on a snow-covered patch of ice and fishtailed off to the right shoulder of the of Bishop Grandin Boulevard.

About thirty meters behind them was a red Ford Taurus with Harold Payton driving and Whisper Willows riding shotgun.

“Hey Harold, look to your right. There’s a car on the shoulder up ahead. Looks like they’re going to need help,” Whisper said.

Harold and Whisper were just returning from getting a late night supper at Pizza Hut. The driving was hazardous tonight as a heavy snowfall had just begun.

One of Harold’s personality traits was both a blessing and a curse. He was a nice guy. Too nice a guy. Whenever he encountered someone in trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to assist them. No matter how much trouble a stranger might be in or how dangerous this intervention might prove to be, Harold would jump in to help them without any reservations. Harold Peyton could be very impulsive and perhaps even a bit self-destructive if he felt that the situation warranted it.

Harold drove his car right behind Hartley’s car. He and Whisper got out of the car and trudged through the snow toward the white Ford Tempo. Whisper could make out a bumper sticker that read, ‘Crash and Burn’. Harold approached the driver side door and knocked on the glass. He called out, “Are you people all right? Do you need help?”

Hartley was still in a bit of a daze as he hit his head on the steering wheel causing the car’s horn to go off.

“Yeah, we need help,” Hartley answered as he lowered his shoulder and banged the front door open. The passenger side door was old and rusty making it difficult to push open. The light in the interior of the car came on so Harold could now see inside the vehicle. He could see another young man occupying the passenger seat. He could make out a third young male who was trying to prop himself up in the backseat. This individual gave out a shriek of pain as he tried to move himself into a sitting position.

Whisper opened the back door of the car and made a quick visual inspection of the man who was in obvious pain.

“How do you feel, dude? What the hell happened to you?” Whisper asked Aleister.

Whisper could see that the injured man had bloodstains on his beige Slipknot T-shirt. He also had some bruises on his forehead. She asked Aleister to turn the back of his head towards her. Whisper noticed three small places where blood had previously been flowing from Aleister’s head.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch me, lady. My neck and back are killing me and I feel like I just got run over by a semi- trailer,” Aleister said in a low pained voice.

Kerry spoke up, “Don’t try to talk now, Aleister. Save your strength.”

Then he turned towards Whisper and Harold and said, “Look we just came back from Boogy’s Sports Bar. We were watching a wrestling pay-per-view and having a few beers when we noticed that Aleister had been in the washroom for a long time. Hartley went into the men’s room to check on him and found Aleister slumped on the floor. There were bloodstains on the wall behind him. Hartley and I got Aleister out of the bathroom and into our car.

Harold Peyton moved closer to Kerry, “Hey, my name is Harold and this is my friend, Whisper. Back in the day I was a medic during the war in Vietnam. Can I check on your friend’s condition?”

Before Kerry could answer a police patrol car with its lights flashing pulled up right behind him. Constable Bill Noble and Constable Melissa Parks got out of the patrol car. Constable Bill took a quick check around the area to see if there was anything dangerous around the scene that he and his partner were about to investigate. The wind had picked up and Bill’s ears were getting cold. Hartley panicked and placed his car key in the ignition. Constable Noble saw what Hartley was trying to do and snatched the car keys out of his hand.

“What’s your hurry, Bud? Are you trying to get away from us? Let’s see your driver’s license and registration.”

Hartley remembered that he had put his bag of drugs in the glove compartment. He knew the cops were going to search the car. He gave Constable Bill a shove and was tackled from behind by Constable Parks. She quickly and efficiently put the hand cuffs on Hartley. 20180924_100134

School Days Episode 3 Painting Cars

School Days.  Episode Three Painting Cars.

When I was five years old, I had a small group of friends that I hung out with.  At that time, I was living with my parents and my grandparents on Hargrave Street. Like most kids of that era, we were always looking for cool things to do.  As the only form of technology that we had the 1950s was television and the radio, all of our group activities would have to come from our own resources. Sometimes we would learn a new game, such as hide and go seek that one of my little buddies would teach us.

One morning my little buddies and I were having a hard time coming up with something interesting to do.  In other words, we were bored. We decided to walk down the back lane to do some exploring in the hope that somebody would come up with a great idea.  Behind one apartment block was a parking lot.  It was not a modern parking lot like we would see today.  The lot was not paved, didn’t have yellow painted lines and consisted mostly of dirt, gravel and crabgrass. We could see four or five cars parked in the lot.  Cars made in the 1950s were a thing of beauty.  If anyone owns a custom model today, their automobiles are probably worth a lot of money. To the right of the parking lot was a thicket of bushes and trees.  Some people would throw their refuge and other discarded items into this area.

When I was five years old.  I already love cars.  Chrysler, Plymouth, Ford and Chevrolet made some awesome cars in those days.  I already owned a collection of miniature model cars that we called Dinky toys.  These small models were not made of plastic.  They were built from solid metal.  When I played with my toy cars, they could withstand a lot of punishment.  That must be why older folks today will often say, they don’t make them like they used to.  The actual cars that our parents drove were also built in the factory much sturdier and much more reliable than the cars we have today. The great thing about those old cars were that they didn’t all have the basic design like modern cards today.

When we watch cars drive down the street today, is often difficult to distinguish between a Honda Accord and a Ford Fusion.  Both these cars have the same basic body design despite being manufactured by different companies.  Not so with the Ford, Chrysler, Plymouth or Chevrolet from the 1950s.  These models of cars all came with their own unique design.  I was already dreaming of the day that I be old enough to own and drive my own car.

While I was almost salivating over a Ford Thunderbird in the parking lot, I noticed an open can of white paint.  Next to it was a broken off piece of board approximately the size of a 12 inch ruler.   The piece of wood had jagged edges from where it was broken off.  I picked up the wooden stick in one hand and grasped the ring handle of the white paint can. A great idea darted across my mind.  Wouldn’t the Ford Thunderbird to my left look great with a wide horizontal strip of white paint right across the side of it?