That Kind of Car Ride
She noticed the curl of a smile on her pup’s snout as she revved up the truck. The red wolf tussled his scruffy brown fur before throwing the gearshift into place and swinging the paw-shaped throttle down, her yellow beast Avalon exploding onto the desert plains with a burst of sand from his rear wheels.
Bette and Harry Garret were making the long trek to see old man Rod at the Base. The day had finally come, the day no one had expected; his retirement. The Mrs. rode up as she was, as she always had been; dressed like a day at the beach. While the young Hell Patrolman was gussied up in his sharp button shirt, well-kept jeans, and polished black boots, all Ma had on her was an Aloha, her shorts, and some old flip-flops.
“Why didn’t you dress up?” Harry asked.
“Trust me kiddo, when he sees me, he’ll know.” she smiled.
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