The Yellow '65 Thunderbird by RD Larson (black female authors TXT) 📕

The Yellow '65 Thunderbird
by
RD Larson

I sank back against the soft back of the booth. The four of them looked at me.

“I need a drink; I'm dying of thirst.” I mumbled. The four of them banged their beer glasses trying to give me something to drink. I gulped one and then another indifferent to the beer that spilled on my white sleeve and on the table. “Good. Thanks.”

The guys, Jumper and Mac-Boy, ordered more beers and us girls just sat there, staring at nothing. It was too awful almost to think about. Lulu was wearing a scarf on her head but she took it off and wrapped it tight around my long hair. Kim offered lip gloss for my dry lips.

Jumper got his beer and leaned back. He pushed back his blond hair that always falls over his face. He looked at me. “Okay, spill it, Cookie. How did your Dad's Thunderbird burn to a crisp?”

Mac-Boy said, “You are always so careful with it. Like you think it's your dog or something.”

“It WILL be mine when I graduate. Daddy promised me,” I said flicking my hair back. “It's his classic car for now. WAS his classic car. No car now. Not for him; not for me.”

Jumper shook his head, “How could you let it burn?”

“It wasn't easy,” I answer, choking back my tears as sweat poured down my back and from under my arms. I felt damp and nasty.

Lulu and Kim said in a rush of breath, “What did you do to get the cops to chase you?”

“Well . . . you know Bobby Dillon, right?” I said.

“That jerk! Yeah, and wish I didn't.” Kim was very emphatic. She dated him for a while in junior year.

“He's not so bad,” cried Lulu. She always wanted to date him.

Jumper and Mac-Boy just sneered.

“I thought it would be fun to go with a really BAD boy, not a half-bad boy and a dork.” I stared at the guys and wiggled my eyebrows. They laughed.

“What happened?”

“He was in Heap's when I went in to get a pizza to take home.” I stopped and chewed one of my fingernails.

“Go on.” said Lulu and Kim at the same time.

“Yeah, come on, Cookie, spill your guts.”

“Maybe you guys better call me Hannah. I'm grown-up now. All the way.” I smirked at them, a cat with milk on its chin.

“I don't believe you. You let your Dad's 1965 yellow Thunderbird to burn up just because you wanted a date with Dillon?” Jumper's voice sounded like a scratch on a black board.

“That wasn't all of it.” I sat back and took another sip of beer. “I wanted to go fast, real fast.”

Mike the bartender shouted at us just then, “You girls are too young to drink, you know that?”

We laughed because he always said that. He sold the beer to the boys and never said a word about us drinking.

“Come on.”

“Okay, Bobby said I shouldn't just be a go-fer for my parents. Was I their housekeeper or something? He said that I run around doing errands for them and kissing their buts because they are so famous.”

“I had never thought of it that way. To me they're just architects you know? But he got me to thinking about what I do for them. Pick up the dry cleaning, mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, start dinner – after I wash my hands – do a lot for them. So I got mad at them.”

“Bobby Dillon made you mad at your folks?” Mac-Boy's mouth hung open even after he quit talking.

“Yes, so we went out – he walked off the job right then – he went out and hot-wired the Thunderbird in parking lot behind the parents' offices.”

Kim said, “OMG!”

Lulu said, “HOLY CRAP!”

“You stole your dad's Thunderbird?”

“His old classic Thunderbird?”

“Yes, we did.” I started to cry then. I couldn't talk for maybe a minute. Some one gave me a paper napkin to blow my nose.

“It was foggy.”

“Wasn't. It was misty.” I glared at Jumper's pale eyes with their dark blond eyelashes. He was cute, especially when he grinned. I watched his smile start and matched him.

“Let's order burgers,” Mac-Boy said and he went to Mike to tell him When he came back I just sat there as somber and solemn as judge. He put a hand on my shoulder. “You, Cookie, are in the deepest of doo-doo.”

I nodded. “We got out past that red barn – you know where they have the corn maze in the fall? We were laughing; everything was funny. He gave me one of his smokes and we were drinking his beer. We drove out to the highway and drove on fast. We started smoking and yelling – we'd put the top down. He made me crazy with laughter. We were going really fast.”

“You were smoking?”

“Your mom won't let you in the house.”

“Yeah, I dropped my ciggie on a greasy cloth Dad had down the floor board. All of a sudden there were flames on the floor. Bobby pulled over and we jumped out. Bobby stomped it out. He told me not to say a word to anybody about the fire; if I did, he said he'd kill me.”

Lulu said, “OMG!”

Kim said, “Bad on you, girlfriend.”

“So we got in and tore off like holy hell. We kept driving faster and faster. You know that turn out on Valley Road? The car skidded right there, and Bobby drove through the fence and across the field down the side of the creek When it rolled over and I heard the tires spinning, I knew it was bad.”

Lulu said, “OMG!”

Jumper and Mac-Boy said, “You're toast.”

Kim said, “Girl, you is so sto-o-o-o-pid”.

“I know. We were both okay but the car was really wrecked. We started down the side of the creek. We knew it was miles to town. I tore my shirt on a branch. See?” I pointed to the three-cornered tear in my left sleeve. “Bobby suddenly stopped. He said he forgot his beer and his cigs. He started running back toward the Thunderbird. I kept walking slowly, waiting for him to catch back up. I didn't want to get caught by myself; it was his fault, really. He begged to drive Dad's Thunderbird.”

“Go on, Cookie,” Jumper said.

“Well, about five minutes later I heard an explosion. It was louder than fireworks even. I got scared and started running. I finally ran up on the road and got a hitch with a truck driver back to town.”

Mac-Boy looked at me. “Did Bobby say not to tell? It's your DAD'S 1965 Thunderbird”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else he'd kill me.” I shuddered and looked around. Maybe Bobby had gotten to town.

“Oh, oh, oh.” They all said at once. We sat there for a while and the burgers came. None of us talked. I was sorry I'd gone with Bobby.

“Now, I'm dead because I told you.” I started to really cry then. “We're all in danger. Who knows what he and his gang will do to us?”

“Can't your dad do anything, Cookie?”

“He's a Sheriff, not a magician.” I couldn't stop crying.

At just that minute my dad and two deputies walked in the door. I thought I would just up and die.

“Hey there, daughter.” He came over to us. Then he slid into the booth WITH us. I about fainted.

“Bad news, Cookie. Your car-to-be is toast. Literally. It burned up about 3 hours ago.”

“Oh Dad, I'm sorry!” I cried even harder.

“I know, sweetie pie, but we'll get you another car! And me, too. I loved that old boat. But gone is gone! I know you feel terrible.” He hugged me. I felt about as guilty as a snake.

“Dad, I was in the car with him . . .” I confessed.

“I know, sweetie. I'm just glad you're safe.” He kissed me on the cheek and got up to leave.

“By the way, you other kids, don't know anything do you?”

They shook their respective heads. I felt really bad; I had gotten into real trouble.

“I didn't say who had been in the car with Bobby. But, I am going to get the whole story. Then we'll talk, Cookie, about being an accessory to a crime. You may be in deeper trouble than you ever thought. You're coming with me.” He came over and motioned for me to get up. I went with him but I wasn't willing.”Bobby was killed in the fire that burned the car.”

I didn't believe that I could have felt worse a second ago. Now I felt really awful and guilty for Bobby.

Publication Date: 11-30-2008

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