They’re all going to die.
Yeah. That would go over well. He mentally twisted and burned that idea from his head.
“Not really,” he lied.
“And you just went along with it?”
“Well, I learned how to fly. It’s a start.”
“You can fly? I’ve never seen you.”
“I practice in private. I don’t want to get shot down.”
* * * * *
Ken was sitting on the sofa, reading a book.
He heard someone coming from the back bedrooms, and saw Alisa, looking at a piece of paper in hand as she walked.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” she said.
“Problem?”
“I have an English question.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. The last English question he got wasn’t exactly normal. Nonetheless, he gestured for her to continue. “Go on.”
“I was talking with Katrina.”
Uh-oh.
“And she couldn’t give me a good answer about it.”
Uh-oh.
“I’ve looked in several dictionaries and grammar guides, and still no answer.”
Uh-oh.
Everything in Ken’s body screamed for him to leave the room immediately. Run away. Forget the question and just go on with his life. He felt his very sanity might be at stake.
Against every instinct, he asked: “What is it?”
She looked at the paper in her hand, then at him.
“Who’s ‘buck’?”
Ken screamed in frustration, hoping it would somehow mitigate his loss of sanity.
Chapter Nine
Or, A (Not So) Healthy Dose of Driving!
Ken, Alisa, Angelica, Cassandra and Sasha gathered in the driveway. Ken wasn’t going to be able to chauffer his tenants all the time, so they needed to get around on their own. The best way would be to learn how to drive, and Ken would have to teach them using his own car. He thought ahead a few days earlier and made them read his state’s driver’s manual so they would be, at a minimum, familiar with the rules of the road.
They played ‘rock-paper-scissors’ to determine their order, after a five-minute explanation and practice games to learn how to play rock-paper-scissors in the first place.
The order of participants was Angelica, Cassandra, Sasha, and then Alisa.
First up, Angelica.
“Have you ever driven before?” Ken asked from the passenger’s seat.
“There are some similar vehicles on my planet,” Angelica answered. “But after all, we can fly.”
“No flying cars?”
“No.”
“That’s kind of disappointing. Anyway, put the key in the ignition and turn it. The engine should start.”
The car started.
“Did you read the manual?”
“Yes.”
“Gears for an automatic? Signs? Braking patterns?”
“Yes, yes and yes.”
“Well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”
Ken was expecting the worst, but Angelica’s driving was smooth, careful, and precise. His car was in good hands. They drove about five miles, and then returned home.
“How did I do?”
“Very good. I don’t think you’ll have a problem passing the test.”
“Thank you!”
Next up was Cassandra.
“Did you read the manual?”
“Yes. I know all the gears, signs and manners of the road.”
“Do you have any flying cars on your planet?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
Ken sighed, disappointed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Childhood fantasy. Shall we start?”
Cassandra started the engine and backed out of the driveway.
Her style was about the same as Angelica’s, but a little more . . . blunt . . . was the only word that came to Ken’s mind.
When they returned, she asked for a critique. “How was it?”
“Not bad. Not bad at all. You should brake a little farther from where you want to stop. Other than that, I think you’ll pass the test handily.”
She let out a sigh of relief.
Next to last was Sasha.
She was very nervous about the prospect of driving. She sat at the wheel for a few moments before Ken broke the silence.
“Sasha, you don’t have to learn right now, if you don’t want to. We can try some other time.”
She shook her head. “No. This is something I need to do. I can’t rely on everyone else forever, now can I?”
Ken nodded. “That’s the spirit. So, you know how to start the engine, right?”
She nodded.
“Good. How about we take it at your pace?”
“Okay,” she said, and backed out of the driveway after starting the car.
Her driving wasn’t bad, but she drove like a stereotypical ‘little old lady.’ They made it back in one piece.
“How did I do?”
Ken scratched his chin. “Not too bad, but you just need to pick up the speed a little bit.”
She looked disappointed. “I see . . .”
“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about it. We still have plenty of time to practice before the test.”
She brightened up. “Thank you,” she said, and left the car.
That left Alisa as the last driver. The other three had done fine. What could possibly go wrong?
* * *
Alisa got out of the car.
“So,” Angelica asked, “what did Ken say?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Huh?”
“He just got very quiet during the drive. Then he started mumbling something about ‘the valley of the shadow of death’.”
“Valley of what? What did he mean?”
Cassandra considered the words, and then it came to her. “I think I read something like that before. I’m pretty sure people say that on this planet before they think they’re going to die.”
“What!?” Angelica shouted.
Cassandra went to the passenger’s seat and looked through the window.
And there Ken was . . . white as a sheet, as if he had seen a ghost, and all other clichés that meant he had been scared witless.
Cassandra opened the door. “Um . . . Ken?”
No response.
Then, slowly, he turned to her. “Am I alive?”
“I think you are.”
He smiled, and the color returned to his face. “It’s good to be alive, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“The sounds of birds are splendid, aren’t they?”
“Ken, you’re scaring me. What happened out there?”
He gulped hard. “I am but a mortal, and yet . . . I have stared the Grim Reaper in the face.”
“What?”
Ken grabbed her hand. “Promise me something.”
“W-What!?”
“Promise me.”
“W-Wait . . . I’m . . . not emotionally prepared—”
“Never let her drive.”
“Huh . . . ?” She stared back at his serious look. She glanced at Alisa, then back to Ken. “Was she that bad?”
* * *
“A car?” Stan asked before sipping his coffee.
“Yeah. Actually, I need two. One for Angelica and one for Cassandra and Alisa.”
“Don’t you need three, then? Wait, there’s that new girl, right? That’s a total of four.”
“Sasha will use mine when she needs to. Cassandra’s going to drive, and it’s been decided that Alisa’s going to ride.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’d . . . rather not talk about it,” he said, shuddering. “Angelica wanted something inconspicuous, and Cassandra doesn’t care one way or the other.”
Stan shrugged. “I’ll ask around. I know there’s an auction
coming up tomorrow. A couple of cars are there. How about we have a look this afternoon?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
There were fewer people at the auction than Ken had anticipated. That would work to his advantage.
Stan came with him to inspect the cars for mileage and possible problems. Ken was glad that Stan had a lot of experience with cars. Stan’s parents used to own an auto garage in another state, and had been exposed to cars a lot during his childhood. Whenever Ken had an issue with his car, Stan was always happy to look it over, and do minor maintenance. That was great for Ken, as he was always on a tight budget.
The best one was a barely used, dark green four-door, low miles for its age, and everything else seemed to be working fine. The rumor was that it had been driven by an elderly lady who only used it to go to church and the grocery store. The other cars, unfortunately, didn’t seem a good fit; Stan could only recommend the green one. It was also as inconspicuous as any, so it matched up with what Angelica wanted.
The bidders didn’t put up much of a fight. He paid fifteen hundred dollars for a mid-sized car with twenty-thousand miles on it. Surprisingly enough, the payment was from money Angelica had already given him from her personal savings. He would have to take care of the insurance, registration and tags later.
That left one more vehicle.
* * *
“A car?” Misses Ling asked.
Ken and Cassandra stopped by Misses Ling’s house for a lead on another vehicle. Stan had been completely tapped out.
“Yes. I’m fresh out of ideas, so I wanted to know if you could suggest anything. I’d appreciate the help.”
“Who is it for?”
“Cassandra and Alisa.”
“Only one for both?”
“Yes. It’s . . . a long story.”
Ken left out that it was also due to mental trauma.
Misses Ling put her tea cup down on the coffee table and stood from the couch. “Follow me.”
Ken and Cassandra followed her into the kitchen, and through a door to her garage. She flipped on the light switch, and there was something under a large, dusty car tarp.
“My husband used to toy around with this. He finished it, but passed away before he could enjoy it. I kept it as a memento, but I think it may be just as good a time to let go of it as any.”
Ken grabbed an edge of the cover, and pulled.
An absolutely beautiful sports car was in front of them. It was deep red, and void of any blemishes. It had to have been forty years old.
Ken could only whistle in surprise.
“Is this car special?” Cassandra wondered from Ken’s reaction.
“I don’t know squat about cars, but I do know this one is a classic. Probably worth a bundle, too.”
Cassandra looked at Misses Ling. “We can’t take it then.”
Misses Ling shook her head. “No. What would I need it for? Perhaps this is also another reason why I kept the car for so many years, in case someone like you needed it. Take it.”
“If you insist,” Cassandra acquiesced.
“I do,” Misses Ling said, pulling a key ring from a hook next to the door. “Besides, I think it would suit you. I’m sure my late husband would have said so, too.”
Then she handed the keys to Cassandra.
* * *
“Where in the world did you get this car!?” Stan gasped in shock.
“It was a gift to Cassandra.”
“A gift!? Who gives out a classic sports car in perfect condition as a gift to someone who can’t even appreciate it!?”
“I’ll ignore that insult, no matter how true it might be. It was from Misses Ling next door.”
“You mean the really hot older lady?”
Ken’s face faulted at the remark. “Hot? She’s just an old lady.”
Stan grinned. “To each their own.”
Ken shook his head. “Anyway, do you think you can give it a once-over?”
“Sure thing. I don’t expect much to be wrong. How long has it been sitting around?”
“Probably about five years or so.”
“I’m thinking it will need at least a flushing and oil change, but from what I’m seeing, it’s in fantastic condition. Can I get right on it?”
“I’m supposed to be asking you that, right?”
Stan smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I haven’t seen a car like this in a while. This is going to be fun. Let me get my tools.”
* * *
Ken pulled into the Department of Motor Vehicles. Alisa, Angelica, Cassandra and Sasha were in the car with him, though it was a tight fit. No other cars were around, save for the back parking lot.
The paperwork and the paper tests were painless, since there were no other applicants that day. Angelica, Cassandra, Sasha and Alisa finished the test quickly, but Ken still had reservations about Alisa going anywhere near anything that had a steering wheel.
In the same order as when they had driven with Ken, Angelica, Cassandra, Sasha and Alisa were due to take their road tests. Normally there were two testers, but one was on maternity leave, which left a greying older gentleman by the name of Mister Calls.
Angelica, Cassandra, and Sasha took their tests, and passed admirably. Mister Calls took their paperwork in and handed it to the secretaries. There was an issue with the printer so their licenses would take a little while, until tech support came out to fix it.
Ken decided to wait outside to check on Alisa.
He saw her getting into the driver’s side of the test vehicle, with Mister Calls as the passenger. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Ken prayed silently . . . mostly for Mister Calls to keep his sanity, and for Alisa to behave behind the wheel.
They returned ten minutes later. Alisa got out of the car and went into the building. Mister Calls, on the other hand, didn’t.
“Uh-oh.”
Ken went to the car, and knocked on the side window, and after a few moments, Mister Calls rolled the window down.
Ken cleared his throat. “How’d it go? Did she pass?”
Mister Calls, still staring forward, very slowly shook his head, eyes wide in fear.
Ken didn’t know the exact details; after all, he didn’t remember what happened during his ride with Alisa. The human mind blanks out traumatic experiences. He had the feeling that it wasn’t anything he would want to remember. She must have been really bad.
Even so, she needed a license in case the worst happened, so Ken thought quickly.
Ken gave a mock sigh. “That’s a shame. Really a shame. I guess she’ll just have to try again next month.”
It was almost like a jolt of electricity went through Mister Calls. “N-Next . . . month . . . ?” he stammered.
“Yes. She’ll have to keep trying over and over again,” Ken lamented, making sure to really punctuate each ‘over’. “It would be nice for you to be her tester each time, since you just got to know each other. You two might even become the best of friends. Just think that you’ll be able to drive with her. Over and over.”
Mister Call’s mouth dropped open.
“You two can have lunch together before or after the test. You know what? I’m a good cook. How’s spaghetti or tuna casserole sound?”
Mister Calls couldn’t reply.
“On a completely unrelated topic, do you have your will in order? I’ve been thinking lately that I need to get mine done. Do you have any recommendations?”
Mister Calls started to cry. “I don’t want to die during a driver’s test!”
“Everybody has to push off this mortal coil some time, right? Might as well be when you’re doing something you enjoy. Don’t worry. She’ll only be taking the test until she passes.”
Mister Calls looked down at the clipboard on his lap, and quickly made some adjustments to the score sheet. “Well, look
at that! She passed after all! Curse these old eyes of mine.”
Then he started laughing like a madman.
The laughing freaked Ken out, but his cunning plan had worked.
* * *
And so, the four otherworlders received their licenses.
Cassandra frowned when she looked at her photo. “I look like someone on a wanted poster.”
“Everybody’s looks like that,” Ken informed her.
As they left, Ken overheard Mister Calls on a cell phone.
“Mister South? I’m looking to get my will updated. What time would be good for you?”
* * *
Silver shot an energy ball at Ken. He evaded and replied with a larger one of his own. They dashed toward each other, swinging; their weapons clashed together.
“You’re doing much better,” Silver said with a sly grin. “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Ken replied, pushed Silver back, and then shot him at point-blank range with an energy blast.
Silver flew back dozens of feet, but corrected his orientation and landed. “Not bad,” he said, dusting himself off.
He then quickly replied with a beam of his own. Ken barely stepped out of the way. Silver was on him in a moment.
Ken blocked several blows, and saw Silver’s kick coming, but was too slow to avoid it. It caught him straight in the abdomen, sending him on his back many paces away.
“Ow . . .”
“Oh, come on. I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“I forgot to put up the field.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Ken got up and dusted himself off. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“On the contrary, I like you quite a bit. It’s you who doesn’t like me.”
It was the truth.
“Something about you rubs me the wrong way.”
“What part?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Well, I can’t change anything if you won’t tell me what it is.”
Ken was trying to figure it out. Maybe it was the arrogant air about Silver, his sudden arrival, or his ‘I-know-more-than-you-do-because-I’m-from-the-future’ attitude.
It could also have been his hair.
“How about we try something a little more advanced?”
“How advanced? Something above shooting energy and flying?”
“Yes. It’s a high-tier technique, but I think you just might be able to pull it off a little earlier than expected.”