Joy Ride

“This is it.” Alice crooned as she ran her hand playfully along the chrome front bumper of the 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, glowing in the moonlight. Molly tried to whistle, but only blew air.

“Why ain’t there security if it’s the car used in all those murders?” Patricia asked pointedly.

“They don’t know what they have yet, and…” Alice points to the huge Doberman rolling on its back playfully, “he’s meaner if he don’t know ya. My uncles had this thing in his yard for a week, pulled it right out the lake.” Then, grinning “But it’s definitely the car.”

Alice was obsessed with murderers. She knew this was the car as soon as her uncle told her the police found an old bug in the lake. But just to be sure, she’d done her research. Trisha and Mollie, two star-crossed teen lovers, frustrated with their small-town’s bigotry, stole the car from a police impound lot and went on a murderous rampage for 2 months. They carved a bloody path that practically ended in this little town. The police never found them, or the car, but that was 40 years ago.

“The Bonnie and Clyde of the 80s.” Patricia says wistfully.

“C’mon Pat,” Alice said, now from the driver’s seat. Giggling, Patricia joined her.

“You ever wanna drive away from this town, maybe go to the New York City?”

“Not the city, but I’m not staying here either” Patricia replied as she idly played with the glove box, causing have it to pop open and startle them both.

Peering inside, they saw a small black notebook and a huge wad of cash. Both are stunned into still silence for one of the very few times in their lives. A life-long store owner’s daughter, Patricia unconsciously started counting the money, while Alice reached for the book.

“Why’s the money clip say Big Bad Buggsie if this is Trisha and Mollie’s car? You sure it’s the right car?” Patricia asked, still skeptical.

“Maybe it’s someone they stole from, or” more confidently “Maybe it’s a mob enforcer that owned the car before it got put in the police impound lot!” Alice wasn’t sure why, but that really sounded right. “Oh my god…” Alice continued, more slowly, “These are the people they murdered. Each name and address are all here, the names are crossed off but I recognize some of ‘em.”

Patricia was starting to say they should leave, that this was evidence, and she was also starting to become concerned about how well the car and its contents had held up in the lake for four decades, but she was distracted when Alicia gasped, eyes huge.

“The last name and address ain't crossed off...” She said, holding the book for Patricia to see “It’s right in town, we should go!”

“No” Patricia responded immediately “No, no, no!”

“If the car starts, we go, if it doesn’t, we’ll go home?” Alice countered. Patricia, who knew very little about cars, but knew that their grandmother’s car had to get junked because it sat in a garage for 20 years, agreed.

Alice turned the key and the car purred to life.

Neither was surprised.

“Let's go!” Patricia shouted, unsure why the sudden change of heart. Holding up the cash, in a lyrical voice, she added “Plus, $20,000 shopping spree!”

Alice screamed with laughter, punched the gas, and neither batted an eye as they flew through the chain-link fence. If you could have seen this, frame by frame, as her uncle and the police later would via the security footage. You would see that at the instant any part of the car touched the metal fence, there was a spark, and then that part of the fence was gone from the next frame. A Beetle shaped hole remained.

“Yoooooohaaaaaw!” Alice shouted as they returned to the car from Alex Martin’s house, “Mr. Martin didn’t know what hit ‘im!”

“But I do...” Patricia said, with a sing-song voice, waggling the bloody tire iron at Alice, “Popped his head like a melon!”

Both struggled to breathe through peels of laughter as they reentered the car.

“Next address?” Patricia asked.

“But…” Alice said, with the face of a frat boy who just became sober enough to remember he has a paper due, “There was only the one address left.”

“Nope, one more” Patricia replied, holding open the book for her friend to see, showing Alex Martin, and his address, was now crossed off and a new one had appeared below it.

A grin slowly spread over Alice’s face before she threw the car into reverse and screeched backward towards the road, slamming directly into 1st gear to execute a drifting turn before accelerating to speeds well beyond the manufacturer's recommendations.

“This is it.” Alice crooned as she ran her hand playfully along the chrome front bumper of the 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, shiny in the moonlight. Molly tried to whistle, but only blew air.

“Why ain’t there security if it’s the car used in all those murders?” Patricia asked pointedly.

“They don’t know what they have yet, and…” Alice points to the huge Doberman rolling on its back playfully, “he’s meaner if he don’t know ya. My uncles had this thing in his yard for a week, pulled it right out the lake.” Then, grinning “But it’s definitely the car.”

Alice was obsessed with murderers. She knew this was the car as soon as her uncle told her the police found an old bug in the lake. But just to be sure, she’d done her research. Trisha and Mollie, two star-crossed teen lovers, frustrated with their small-town’s bigotry, stole the car from a police impound lot and went on a murderous rampage for 2 months. They carved a bloody path that practically ended in this little town. The police never found them, or the car, but that was 40 years ago.

“The Bonnie and Clyde of the 80s.” Patricia says wistfully.

“C’mon Pat,” Alice said, now from the driver’s seat. Giggling, Patricia joined her.

“You ever wanna drive away from this town, maybe go to the New York City?”

“Not the city, but I’m not staying here either” Patricia replied as she idly played with the glove box, causing have it to pop open and startle them both.

Peering inside, they saw a small black notebook and a huge wad of cash. Both are stunned into still silence for one of the very few times in their lives. A life-long store owner’s daughter, Patricia unconsciously started counting the money, while Alice reached for the book.

“Why’s the money clip say Big Bad Buggsie if this is Trisha and Mollie’s car? You sure it’s the right car?” Patricia asked, still skeptical.

“Maybe it’s someone they stole from, or” more confidently “Maybe it’s a mob enforcer that owned the car before it got put in the police impound lot!” Alice wasn’t sure why, but that really sounded right. “Oh my god…” Alice continued, more slowly, “These are the people they murdered. Each name and address are all here, the names are crossed off but I recognize some of ‘em”

Patricia was starting to say they should leave, that this was evidence, and she was also starting to become concerned about how well the car and its contents had held up in the lake for four decades, but she was distracted when Alicia gasped, eyes huge.

“The last name and address isn’t crossed off.” She said, holding the book for Patricia to see “It’s right in town, we should go!”

“No” Patricia responded immediately “No, no, no!”

“If the car starts, we go, if it doesn’t, we’ll go home?” Alice countered. Patricia, who knew very little about cars, but knew that their grandmother’s car had to get junked because it sat in a garage for 20 years, agreed.

Alice turned the key and the car purred to life.

Neither was surprised.

“Let's go!” Patricia shouted, unsure why the sudden change of heart. Holding up the cash, in a lyrical voice, she added “Plus, $20,000 shopping spree”.

Alice screamed with laughter, punched the gas, and neither batted an eye as they flew through the chain-link fence. If you could have seen this, frame by frame, as her uncle and the police later would via the security footage. You would see that at the instant any part of the car touched the metal fence, there was a spark, and then that part of the fence was gone from the next frame. A Beetle shaped hole remained.

“Yoooooohaaaaaw!” Alice shouted as they returned to the car from Alex Martin’s house, “Mr. Martin didn’t know what hit ‘im!”

“But I do...” Patricia said, lyrically, waggling the bloody tire iron at Alice, “Popped his head like a melon!”

Both struggled to breathe through peels of laughter as they reentered the car.

“Next address?” Patricia asked.

“But…” Alice said, with the face of a frat boy who just became sober enough to remember he has a paper due, “There was only the one address left.”

“Nope, one more” Patricia replied, holding open the book for her friend to see, showing Alex Martin, and his address was now crossed off and a new one had appeared below it.

A grin slowly spread over Alice’s face. She kept her eyes locked on Patricia's as she threw the car in reverse and screeched backward towards the road, slamming directly into 1st gear to execute a drifting turn before accelerating to speeds well outside the bounds of reality.

"Then let's get out of this lame-ass town." Alice agrees, finally breaking her friend's gaze to refocus on the road with gleaming exhilaration.