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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Fantasy / Dreams / Wishes
- Published: 01/23/2018
Love On Four Wheels
Born 1947, M, from OCEANSIDE, United StatesLove On Four Wheels
Holy lug wrench! What a beauty! The curve of her fenders, the gleam of her yellow coat. And then there are her headlights—I think I could stare into their lenses all day long.
She looks as if her owner spent months and months restoring her, the same way Allen spent months and months restoring me. It’s like looking at a brand new VW bug, but with all kinds of flowers displayed all over her shiny new coat. But that’s okay; I love looking at them, the same way I love looking at her.
“Come on, Buddy,” Allen says as he climbs back behind my steering wheel. He always calls me Buddy. “It’s time to go.” But I don’t want to go, I would protest if I could! I want to stay and look at her some more! “I know you probably want to hang out with all the rest of the bugs,” he says, “but we’ll be back here again next week for the races.” Today was just for registration and showing off what our owners have done to us.
Every three months, the local VW club holds a contest in which bugs that have been restored race against each other. All week, as I wait for Saturday to come, I wonder will she be there? And now that it’s Saturday, Allen and I approach the one time airport runway where the race will take place. And that’s when I see her!
I hope Allen parks me somewhere I can keep my lenses focused on her. He does! We end up parked right behind her. This is wonderful! I’m staring at her engine compartment. Her owner has added an extra air intake manifold, which probably means, she’s got a lot more power than normal. But then, so do I. Allen has done something to my gears to give me an extra boost.
And then to my relief, the bug next to her moves away and Allen pulls us up alongside. This gives us a chance to talk.
“I love your flowers,” I tell her.
“Is that some kind of pickup line?” she says.
I’m embarrassed. “No, no, I mean it! I really do love your flowers!”
“Thank you,” she says, but doesn’t sound sincere.
“I hope you win your race,” I tell her.
She chuckles. “I probably will.”
Just then, a voice comes over the loud speaker. “Will car number twenty-three and car number forty-nine get into position on the starting line.”
“Twenty-three is me,” she says.
And forty-nine is me!
I realize that means we’re racing against each other! Now, I’m not so enthusiastic anymore. What if I beat her? She may never speak to me again!
As I sit there and mope for a moment, both our owners climb into our cockpits. That’s when I see that her owner is a very nice-looking blonde with a ponytail. She smiles and winks at Allen. Could this mean they already know each other?
I’m not sure what to think as the voice over the loud speaker says, “Ready! . . . Set! . . . GOoo!” And that’s when both our owners pop our clutches and stomp on our gas pedals.
For a moment, she pulls slightly ahead, but then I catch up, and then I pull slightly ahead. Back and forth we both go; one time she’s ahead then the next, I’m ahead. The track itself, is a half mile long, but we are only racing to just past the quarter mile mark. It’s very close. I’m ahead by half a fender, but at the very last second, she pulls ahead and wins!
“You gave me some race,” she says as we both turn onto the taxiway and head back to the staging area.
“So did you,” I say to her.
Once we return to where the others are gathered, our owners step out and begin talking. “I hope I get a chance to race against you again,” I tell her.
“Why? You think you’ll beat me next time?” I can hear the humor in her voice.
“You never know.”
Actually, we end up racing against each other several more times. It seems our owners have decided that they don’t necessarily need the local VW club to race. Alley, is her name, beats me three out of five times, but that’s okay. I just love being around her and her owner, and so does, it seems, Allen.
And now, we’ve become more than just friends; we’ve become family.
Love On Four Wheels(Tom Di Roma)
Love On Four Wheels
Holy lug wrench! What a beauty! The curve of her fenders, the gleam of her yellow coat. And then there are her headlights—I think I could stare into their lenses all day long.
She looks as if her owner spent months and months restoring her, the same way Allen spent months and months restoring me. It’s like looking at a brand new VW bug, but with all kinds of flowers displayed all over her shiny new coat. But that’s okay; I love looking at them, the same way I love looking at her.
“Come on, Buddy,” Allen says as he climbs back behind my steering wheel. He always calls me Buddy. “It’s time to go.” But I don’t want to go, I would protest if I could! I want to stay and look at her some more! “I know you probably want to hang out with all the rest of the bugs,” he says, “but we’ll be back here again next week for the races.” Today was just for registration and showing off what our owners have done to us.
Every three months, the local VW club holds a contest in which bugs that have been restored race against each other. All week, as I wait for Saturday to come, I wonder will she be there? And now that it’s Saturday, Allen and I approach the one time airport runway where the race will take place. And that’s when I see her!
I hope Allen parks me somewhere I can keep my lenses focused on her. He does! We end up parked right behind her. This is wonderful! I’m staring at her engine compartment. Her owner has added an extra air intake manifold, which probably means, she’s got a lot more power than normal. But then, so do I. Allen has done something to my gears to give me an extra boost.
And then to my relief, the bug next to her moves away and Allen pulls us up alongside. This gives us a chance to talk.
“I love your flowers,” I tell her.
“Is that some kind of pickup line?” she says.
I’m embarrassed. “No, no, I mean it! I really do love your flowers!”
“Thank you,” she says, but doesn’t sound sincere.
“I hope you win your race,” I tell her.
She chuckles. “I probably will.”
Just then, a voice comes over the loud speaker. “Will car number twenty-three and car number forty-nine get into position on the starting line.”
“Twenty-three is me,” she says.
And forty-nine is me!
I realize that means we’re racing against each other! Now, I’m not so enthusiastic anymore. What if I beat her? She may never speak to me again!
As I sit there and mope for a moment, both our owners climb into our cockpits. That’s when I see that her owner is a very nice-looking blonde with a ponytail. She smiles and winks at Allen. Could this mean they already know each other?
I’m not sure what to think as the voice over the loud speaker says, “Ready! . . . Set! . . . GOoo!” And that’s when both our owners pop our clutches and stomp on our gas pedals.
For a moment, she pulls slightly ahead, but then I catch up, and then I pull slightly ahead. Back and forth we both go; one time she’s ahead then the next, I’m ahead. The track itself, is a half mile long, but we are only racing to just past the quarter mile mark. It’s very close. I’m ahead by half a fender, but at the very last second, she pulls ahead and wins!
“You gave me some race,” she says as we both turn onto the taxiway and head back to the staging area.
“So did you,” I say to her.
Once we return to where the others are gathered, our owners step out and begin talking. “I hope I get a chance to race against you again,” I tell her.
“Why? You think you’ll beat me next time?” I can hear the humor in her voice.
“You never know.”
Actually, we end up racing against each other several more times. It seems our owners have decided that they don’t necessarily need the local VW club to race. Alley, is her name, beats me three out of five times, but that’s okay. I just love being around her and her owner, and so does, it seems, Allen.
And now, we’ve become more than just friends; we’ve become family.
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