The sun was setting, but I knew I needed to get a new part for my car before it was dark. My children and I piled into our 15 year old, worn out, compact Chevy. We drove along winding roads before climbing a final hill to arrive at the auto parts store. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, and I sighed with relief when I saw the store lights were still on. Just before I got out of the car, I realized I wasn't in my parking space; I was straddling the line. So, I re-started the car, and as I slid the gear into reverse there was an awful grinding sound, like sandpaper and bricks rubbing together. Although it felt futile, I tapped the gas pedal hoping the car would move. It didn't. I put it in drive, inhaled deeply, and tapped the pedal again, hoping that the only problem was the 'reverse' gear. The engine revved but my car sat frozen, like a forgotten piece of furniture in and old shed. My shoulders dropped as I exhaled.
"This is not good. I'm going to need a new transmission. Oh my God, how am I going to afford that?" I said to no one in particular. I got out of the car, feeling defeated and overwhelmed.
I headed into the auto parts store, glad I wasn't alone.There was a woman at the counter and I explained that my car had just 'died' in her parking lot. "I'm going to need to call a wrecker and a friend. I'll be in the market for a new transmission, too." She nodded and walked away.
"Ill be right back. I need to check on my children." I said. I went back outside where the dark blue sky had changed to a deep purple on one side, and black on the other. My children sat in the car with someone parked right beside the store. I saw that they were safe. Just then, an old pick up truck pulled up beside me and two long-haired men got out. They appeared old and weathered, yet they moved with ease like younger men. They reached into their back seat and pulled out what looked to be guitar cases and amplifiers. It was now pitch dark, the only light was coming from inside the parts store. The men then walked to another truck, that was parked alongside the one they just got out of, and began loading their equipment into the backseat of this truck.
I said, "Excuse me, could you help me with my car? It's not working. Let me show you what it's doing."
One of the men nodded and said, "Okay."
I walked back to my car, opened the door and got in. I put the key in and it started very smoothly. I put it in reverse, and the car moved. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I looked around and saw that I was not in my car. Everything was new and clean. It smelled wonderful. I put the car in park, turned it off and hopped out.
I walked back over to the two men, "Hey, My car is gone. Someone must have taken it. Weird. My key fit that car, and it is parked where my car was."
The man looked at me and said, "That's your car." very matter-of-factly.
"No, that's not mine. Mine is old and broken."
"Ma'am, if the key fit, then it's your car."
"What are you talking about?"
"Just get in your car and drive, I will explain it to you." I assumed he was going to get in the car with me, on the passenger side. I never looked to see if he was there, I was that certain he would be there. I continued talking to him as I pulled out of the parking lot and began driving home.
"This does not make any sense. I don't understand why you are saying this is my car. Mine is old and broken."
"Someone gave you a new car a long time ago. But you gave it back." The man said. I looked beside me, but he was not there. I didn't have any sense of fear, just curiosity.
"Hey, where are you?"
"I'm in the truck behind you." I glanced at my rear view mirror and saw him and his friend driving the old pick-up.
"How can I hear you, then?"
"It's a special connection. Don't freak out. Just keep talking to me. I hear every word you are saying. And see, you can hear me just fine. It's a clear connection, huh?"
"Yes. Very clear." I paused and then added. " This is awfully strange. So, where did this car come from?"
"It's yours. It is your car. Someone gave it to you a long time ago, don't you remember? But you gave it back to them. They are giving it to you again. It's yours. Keep it this time."
I smiled, remembering the new car from years ago. I tried to remember why I gave it back, but nothing clear came to mind.
I drove on for a few miles, looking in my rear view mirror, every now and then, at the long-haired musician and his buddy in the pick-up truck. A strong feeling of security descended over me knowing that he was right behind me. I studied my new car, relaxed into the new leather seat, and appreciated the strong high beam lights that lit up the dark, curvy mountain road.
