First Short Story Ever

Well, the time has come to say goodbye to my baby and move on to greater things… I guess. From ditching class to the first time I had sex with Rachael; I’ve had so many memories in my sky blue ’78 Coupe Deville. So when I got a phone call this morning that some strange old lady wanted to take a look at my baby, I couldn’t ask anything besides what time she’d be here. All I could hope for is either she doesn’t show up, or it’s too “hip” for her to use when she picks up her groceries, goes to her knitting class, or whatever she does as a hobby. It’s 3 p.m. and there’s no sign of this lady. I might actually be able to hold on to my baby a little longer. What the fuck is that squealing? I got up and peaked my head through the lacey white curtains my mother proudly bought at Goodwill. I pressed my right cheek against the window to get a better view of the broken pavement we call a street. I see a red- I think it’s red- dirt-covered ‘86 Honda Civic with the front bumper held together by a thin wire hanger. Please God, don’t let this be her. I shuffled my feet to the wood-framed screen door and slowly pushed it open; just hoping this ragged car passes by. I’d rather this be a drive-by than the new owner of my Caddy. As I stepped out onto my mom’s porch I get an intense smell of the local steel mills that employ more than half the city. While my eyes scan the scenery of the decomposing fenced-in yards and barred up windows, I hear a sound of a car backfiring. The car’s gray exhaust billowed up behind it as it pulled into the one car driveway and slowed to a stop nearly putting another dent into my mom’s car. The doors opened with a loud creak as if the bolts were going to fly off. Two people emerged from the smoky confines of the car. The driver was a man in his fifties and rough around the edges. He took two steps to his left to slam the door, leaned back, and pulled a cigarette from his ear and a lighter from his pocket. The lady pulled herself and took a bit longer to get out of the car. I caught a glimpse of her cloudy white hair peaking over the top of the car. She then took a few steps back, and drew a feeble old cane from the backseat. Are you kidding me? “How are ya,” I ask looked at the man, but he stared down the street, puffing his cigarette. “We’re fine, thank you,” the lady responded. “You must be Jay.” “Yeap.” “Well let’s see this car of yours.” I waved for them to follow me into the garage- where I keep my baby away from prying eyes. I bent over and rolled the numbers in the correct sequence on the lock and popped it open. I looked back to see the man still leaning on the Honda- halfway through his cigarette. The garage door swung up, as if the spring had no tension left, and revealed my baby. The air stood still as my eyes hit the bright blue details on the hood of that gorgeous beast. My chest felt heavy when I stared into the headlight; reminding me of the first time I looked into Rachael’s eyes. “Oh, she’s a beauty.” What do you know, lady? It took my entire body to bring my fixed eyes over to the woman. It took my entire soul to form a smile as I took a few steps into the garage that held my life. In the far back near the chipped door that led into the kitchen was an old cracked homemade wood shelf where my high school basketball trophies lived. Next to the shelf was a tool-bench I found decaying in an alleyway. I remember seeing it out of the corner of my eye as I drove by with Rachael on a humid summer day when the alley was overrun in a jungle of weeds. My tools were still spread out over the workbench with the grease soaking into the warped wood. The sun from the window on the other side of the garage was shining on my tools- reflecting the light and glaring into me. My heart started to sink into my stomach. The frigid old lady stared blankly at my car smacking her lips together as if she was swallowing her tongue. Her weary eyes spiked right through the front seat and into the ground beneath. She doesn’t deserve to even be in my sanctuary. She doesn’t even deserve to breath in the aroma of the wet, heavy air. I swung my head angrily around in the direction of the woman. Behind her the man threw his cigarette to the ground and, with a stomp of his boots, he drove the cigarette into my driveway like it was a cockroach in his kitchen. He reached for his jean pocket and pulled out a blue pouch. He began to roll a second cigarette; not once glancing over to see what my baby looks like.
“Can I see under the hood?” the old lady asked, followed by coughing like she was trying to clear the years from her throat. “Sure, one second.” I passed in front of her, separating her from the car. I reached for the door and the cold, crisp handle sent shivers up my spine. After a moment of hesitation I snapped the handle up and gently swung the door open. I bent over and pulled the lever and the hood released with the sound like a can of pop opening. I felt myself blush from the thought of revealing my baby’s under parts. I closed my eyes tight and clenched my teeth. But I pulled myself together and opened my eyes to the old lady smiling and staring expectantly back at me. I casually strolled over to her and turned, positioning my shoulder next to her. I reached my hand through the one-inch crack between the hood and the grill of the car. What takes people a few fumbling seconds, took me only a moment to find the lever and release the hood. With two shaky hands, I lift the hood all the way open. The maze of the engine made the lady mumble, “Hmmm…” What’s does she know anyway? I checked back to see if the man’s attention had shifted over to the car- or at least to the lady. His presence started making me suspicious of the whole encounter. I’ve shown so much to them already. Did he see the combination for my lock? I should just tell them to fuck off. I don’t need their money. I don’t want to see them ever again. Suddenly, the door to the kitchen slammed open and standing there was Rachael. She stood with a wide smile and soft eyes, analyzing the situation. My anger and paranoia dwindled at the sight of her smooth, glowing skin. I felt my muscles relax and my eyes start to feel lighter. “Hi, I’m Rachael.” “Hello,” the old lady grinned. “How’s everything look to you?” “I think we were about to talk price,” the lady looked back at the man for a quick glimpse. “How much were you asking?” “Nine thousand.” I stated through my teeth. “I was thinking, uhm, seven.” That rage I had started creeping back into my throat. I squinted my eyes and gave him a quick glare, and then threw my attention at the man, hoping he would understand my point of view. My anger uncontrollably rolled in the direction of Rachael and I noticed she had moved from the stairs of the door to the passenger side of my Deville. My eyes drifted down from her shoulder to her hand rubbing her belly. My eyes focused over the hood to the round mass under her shirt that she had been caressing. The edge of my lip twitched into a smirk as I looked back at the lady, “Eight thousand.” “Deal.”