Will & Mrs. H – The Car Chase:

Peeling rubber as it careened out of the parking lot and onto Washington St., the Cadillac blasted off in Pavarotti fanfare as its chrome rims, its shiny fishtail fenders pulsated stars in the direct sunlight like a barrage of photo shoot flashes. In fact, the roaring machine almost blinded with all the gravel and dirt it kicked up causing hapless pedestrians to scurry for cover, to wheeze, to cough, to cuss, then gaze after the mechanical beast in awe.

From the rear, it appeared that the car was driving itself with a frazzled old lady riding shot-gun/hostage. From the front, if one was acutely perceptive and not too concerned about diving for safety, it would be noted that a thatch of blonde hair and a pair of wide eyes were peeping just over the wheel.

In this case, the observer’s last thoughts might very well be – ‘oh a midget’— before impending impact. But thankfully, no such case occurred. And, all bystanders were blissfully unaware that the runaway Caddy was being driven by a midget or in reality a young boy.

Rather they believed the vehicle to be possessed.

Mrs. H, however, had no such misconception. Gripping the dashboard for dear life as the world whizzed by, she simply stopped thinking. It was all she could do to keep from heart attack.

But after they hit the recycling bin, ran the second red light, scrapped the forth curb, and made the seventh person jump aside she regained her Voice. Actually, it was The Voice and it was preceded by The Look.

“Will, what do you think your doing?” Seventy years of long suffering mother love steeled the simple query.

“About 80, I’d go 90 but there’s a sharp turn up ahead.” Cranking the wheel, Will flashed his pearly whites. He would have put more effort into it, forging an unbreakable shield of cuteness, but he needed to keep his eyes on the road, as he almost rammed into a speed limit leading Fiesta.

“Oh don’t you smile at me, young man. Pull this car over right now!”

“Can’t do that Grandma. There’s—AH-”

Mrs. H grabbed the wheel.

“—Grandma!”

“Let Go! Do you hear me William Horton Roberts Brady! You will let go and listen to your Grandmother!”

Will couldn’t believe what was happening. They’d just crested Knots Hill, the steepest incline and worst kept road in all of Salem. From the side mirror, the tailing sedan was gaining ground. Traffic was jammed. And his Great-Grandma had the grip of a pro-wrestler!

“I can’t! You don’t under--”

“--Yes, you can!”

“—stand!”

The car started to weave wildly back and forth, edging towards the center line, as the two fought for control. In the fray the power button on the radio was punched, so was the horn and the windshield wiper control and the washer fluid spray. Other vehicles on the street dodged the plummeting Caddy to the Big Band stylings of “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off.”

“—Grandma, you’re causing a traffic hazard! AH!”

Will released the wheel to throw his hands over his eyes. Horns wailed. Metal screeched, scrapped, as the Caddy swerved right—too late! A Dodge Caravan grazed the front fender then spun out of control just missing the sedan only to smash into a Bonnieville. An Olds ninety-eight and a Mustang Ford joined the ensuing pile-up.

Somehow, the Caddy sailed free. “Oh my,” Mrs. H trembled, face drained, instinctively applying the breaks. She hoped no one was hurt. She looked at Will. He appeared ok, if frightened, squished as he was against the driver’s door, shaking like a leaf. Serves the little dickens right, she miffed as she started to turn the car around. She meant to assist at the accident site.

She didn’t know about the black sedan. The black sedan didn’t know she was going to turn. Will didn’t know anything. He was still in a state of shock from before.

“I’m too young to die.” He squeaked.

Just then, the sedan overshot the Caddy and a spattering of gunfire shattered the rear window, riddling the roof with a deafening RAT-A-TAT-TAT!

Mrs. H screamed. Will pushed her aside (gently, she is his Great-Grandmother after all) grasped the wheel, floored the gas, and hollered, “I’M TO YOUNG TO DIE!” as the right back tire took a bullet.

The chase was far from over.

***----***********************

LET'S CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF -- taken from-- http://lyricsplayground.com/
(George & Ira Gershwin)

(verse)
Things have come to a pretty pass,
Our romance is growing flat,
For you like this and the other
While I go for this and that.
Goodness knows what the end will be;
Oh, I don't know where I'm at...
It looks as if we two will never be one,
Something must be done.

(refrain)
You say either and I say eyether,
You say neither and I say nyther;
Either, eyether, neither, nyther,
Let's call the whole thing off!
You like potato and I like potatoe,
You like tomato and I like tomatoe;
Potato, potatoe, tomato, tomatoe!
Let's call the whole thing off!

But oh! If we call the whole thing off,
Then we must part.
And oh! If we ever part,
Then that might break my heart!

So, if you like pyjamas and I like pyjahmas,
I'll wear pyjamas and give up pyjahmas.
For we know we need each other,
So we better call the calling off off.
Let's call the whole thing off!

You say laughter and I say lawfter,
You say after and I say awfter;
Laughter, lawfter, after, awfter,
Let's call the whole thing off!
You like vanilla and I like vanella,
You, say s'parilla and I say s'parella;
Vanilla, vanella, chocolate, strawberry!
Let's call the whole thing off!

But oh! If we call the whole thing off,
Then we must part.
And oh! If we ever part,
Then that might break my heart!

So, if you go for oysters and I go for ersters
I'll order oysters and cancel the ersters.
For we know we need each other,
So we better call the calling off off!
Let's call the whole thing off!