The Joy Ride

By Rick Hartford

Lanny and Hoover boosted the car from the far end of the parking lot at the mall, a classic white Thunderbird that came to life with a throaty growl after Lanny performed his magic under the dash.

“Where did you learn that shit, Lanny?” Hoover said.

“Trade Secret,” Lanny replied with a wink as he aimed the Bird toward the exit road. He got onto the interstate toward the city and moved the car up through the gears until they were humming along at 80, Lanny driving with one finger on the wheel.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you all to the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

I am your tour guide,” came the voice over the radio as Hoover fiddled with the dials.

“Step right up and meet the plague that has got us by the Coronas. Need the cure? Just add a slice of lime. And some coconut. Then you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Forget about talk radio, Lanny said. Get us some music. Are you on AM?

Hoover hit the scan button again and Roy Orbison’s voice came over the speakers.

“Pretty woman won't you pardon me

Pretty woman I couldn't help but see

Pretty woman that you look lovely as can be

Are you lonely just like me?’

Hoover hit scan again and got the country station.

“Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys

Off to my left ride a dozen or more

Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me

I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Lanny pulled up aside a Mustang, the driver a blond-headed beach boy with a Hawaiian shirt and a cigarette tucked into his lips. He nodded to Lanny, suddenly goosing it and leaving Lanny two cars back.

“And now, the news. An earth killing asteroid is hurtling its way to the earth. One speculation is that it’s actually an alien spaceship, Bigger than the Empire State Building. The military is going to launch an intercepter.”

“WTF?” Hoover said.

“Hey Lanny, you hear that?”

Lanny wasn’t paying attention. He was busy trying to get between two cars in order to bring that Mustang down, but he wasn’t getting an opening. There were two old folks in a Buick in the left lane doing 50, oblivious. In the right lane there was an old Chevy truck, blowing black fumes out of the tailpipe.”

“Cracked block,” Lanny said.

“Lanny! There’s a space ship coming!” Hoover yelled over the sound of the roaring engine as Lanny finally got a break and hit the accelerator, wrenching the wheel to the right and then the left.

Lanny looked around. “Where?”

Hoover went back to searching for the report about the aliens. He got another news report instead. He must have missed the end.

“The ozone layer is disappearing, climate change is now irreversible, and scientists have created self replicating nano-bots. They are tiny Frankenstein monsters which, if you breathe them in, will eat your brains like scrambled eggs. So wear your mask.”

Hoover nodded to the wisdom of that and hit the button again.

Then he got NPR: “They say that in the past, in order to ward off evil, farmers used to nail Barn Owls to the barn door.”

“But did it work, Howard?”

“How should I know, Bruce?”

Lanny was now behind the Mustang. They were doing about 100 and squealing in and out of traffic. Hoover saw flashing lights in the rearview mirror. The police were chasing them.

Hey Lanny, here comes the Po Po.”

A cop was pulling up along their right, but Lanny was able to squeeze in between two cars and floored it. The beach boy had disappeared.

The cop pulled alongside them again, signaling Lanny to pull over. As Lanny looked at him the policeman drew one finger across his throat.

“That was rude,” Lanny said.

“There’s nowhere to go, Lanny,” Hoover said. “You’re going to have to pull over.”

Lanny switched lanes and ended up on I-91 south headed out of the city. A billboard on the right near the old Colt building was hawking discount cremations.

“I hear that you can get buried in the root ball of a tree,” Hoover said to Lanny.”It’s biodegradable.”

Lanny shot him a sideways glance.

“You’re sick. You know that, Hoover?”

“I”m a visionary, that’s what I am,” Hoover told him.

Now there were at least four police cars behind them.

Hoover’s phone rang. “It’s my mother,” he said. He didn’t answer it.

‘Hoover, did you see that story about the kid handcuffed in the back of a cruiser? He slipped behind the wheel when the cop was outside the car and took off, steering with his knees.That cat was petal to the metal. You know how they finally got him? He ran out of gas.”

Hoover checked the gas gauge below the steering wheel in the Bird. The big E.

“Didn’t know you’re a profit there, Lanny,” Hoover said as the car began to decelerate, then surge, then power down again. The old car drifted onto the shoulder of the highway, Lanny lighting up a smoke.

“It doesn’t get much better than this, Hoover,” Lanny said to his friend.

“You mean we just peaked on the side of the highway at fifteen years old?” Hoover said.

“Now you got memories,” Lanny said.

“Some memories. They are going to lock us up and throw away the key.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Hoover. They can’t do anything to us. We’re only fifteen years old.”

“My mother is going to kill me,” Hoover said.

“Maybe when she does you’ll come back as a Barn Owl and they’ll nail your ass to the barn door,” Lanny said.

“Very funny,” Hoover said.

The two boys bolted from the car and ran across the interstate, dodging cars and laughing like there was no tomorrow.