“C’mon, fatty,” Maria said.
Hey, I’m getting prepared for winter! It’s gonna be a cold one, Sherlock said.
“Yeah, you’re about three months too soon, buddy.”
The two of them went out to the garage.
Gramps stood in front of the Firebird, admiring its beauty. It was beautiful; the type of car you’d see on the front of ‘Classic Muscle Cars Magazine’ (if such a magazine existed). Maria, too, appreciated the beauty of such a fine piece of craftsmanship. She’d always wanted to drive it, but she knew Gramps would never let her. That’s okay. I can appreciate its beauty from the passenger’s seat.
Gramps pulled the keys free from his pocket. He’d done the right thing and put a shirt on. Maria was glad.
“Ready?” he asked.
Sherlock barked. He loved the Bird, too. Loved sticking his head out the window, and letting the wind blow his flappy cheeks every which way, which usually meant a rather large backdraft of drool for whomever joined him in the backseat.
“Heads up,” Gramps said. He tossed something to Maria. With her new magical abilities came a quicker reaction time, and the keys her grandfather tossed through the air seemed to move in slow motion.
Maria snagged them. “What?” she said, breathless.
“I think you’re old enough now,” Gramps said.
“B-But you never let anyone drive the Bird but you.”
Gramps shrugged, smiling. “First time for everything.”
“Seems like there are a lot of firsts since I turned nineteen.”
“It’ll only get weirder!” Gramps said, then he threw his head back and cackled. “That’s not a bad thing, by the way, Maria. You know what I say… ‘The weirder, the—”
“…Better,” Maria finished.
“Good girl. Now let’s get out of this smelly garage and out on the open road. It’s a beautiful day, and we have much to discuss.”
As much as Maria wanted to put the pedal to the metal, she couldn’t. Ignatius had fixed it to where the Firebird somehow wouldn’t go over thirty miles per hour, no matter how hard Maria pressed the gas pedal.
Magic, she thought. Whenever I don’t understand anything, I’ll just blame magic. Kennedy assassination? Magic. Aliens? Bigfoot? Abominable Snowman? Magic. Simple as that. I like it.
So Maria drove up the road with people riding her rear bumper, some of them honking and flashing their lights. She did her best to ignore them, but she caught her skin glowing blue again, threatening to unleash an uncontrollable burst of magic.
“Now we talk,” Gramps said.
Sherlock, who usually stuck his head out of the passenger’s side window, was leaning over Maria and drooling out the driver’s side.
“If this is payback for me calling you a fatty, then touché,” Maria said softly into his ear. He ignored her. She turned to glance at Gramps, to ask him the question that had been on her mind.
His eyes bugged out and he looked at the street. “Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!”
Maria snapped her eyes back in that direction.
“Good, good. There is no tomfoolery while driving Sheila.”
“Sheila?” Maria asked.
“That’s what I named her. Fine, fine name, don’t you think?”
Maria chuckled. “Yeah, I guess; if there’s no tomfoolery, or whatever the heck you called it, I think you better tell Sherlock to stop stepping all over me.”
“You’re the one who can communicate with him!”
“He won’t listen to me,” Maria said.
Gramps frowned. “Sherlock? Get in the backseat.”
Sherlock listened, reluctantly, making sure he put his butt in Maria’s face on the way to the back.
“Bleh!” Maria said, turning her head away.
“Eyes on the road!” Gramps shouted again.
She was beginning to think that driving was actually not all that it was chalked up to be.
“Why were you looking for galoshes, Gramps?” Maria asked him with a slight edge to her voice. “Especially on such a beautiful day as this.” She took one hand off the wheel and swept it across the windshield as if showcasing a beautiful new house on Home Makeover.
“Hands on the wheel! Hands on the wheel!” Gramps shrieked.
She growled, sounding like Sherlock, and put her other hand back on the wheel.
“Galoshes, Gramps! Why? Tell me.”
Gramps sighed.
Maria turned off of East Avenue into the area’s strip mall. Down the way, across from a plaza full with Petsmart, Target, Starbucks, and Shoe Depot was the Walmart.
“I will tell you, Maria, as long as you promise not to get upset.”
Can’t get anymore weirder, I suppose, she thought, and flipped on her left blinker at the stop sign that led into Walmart’s parking lot. She almost raised her right hand, too, and said something like ‘Right hand to God,’ but quickly remembered how touchy Gramps was about keeping both hands on the wheel.
She settled for “I promise” instead.
A lady was walking her dog. Sherlock sniffed the air and turned to look at her. The dog outside started barking.
How dare he say something so vulgar about my mother! Sherlock said. Maria, stop the car. Stop the car and let me at him. I’ll tear his face off!
“Or you’ll sniff his butt and ask him to go get a Dairy Queen Blizzard with you,” Maria said.
“Pardon?” Gramps asked.
“Oh, nothing. Anyway, I promise,” Maria said again.
“Well, Maria; Salem, Agnes, the Muffler twins, and I thought it would be best if you sit this one out. I will need you here to guard the portal.” All that actually meant was that Gramps thought it was best. The others seemed mostly on her side.
She pulled into a parking space, shifted the gear stick to ‘P,’ then turned to her grandfather. “What the heck does that mean? You’re making it sound like this is a recreational softball league or something.”
Gramps cringed. “I knew you’d be mad.”
“I’m not sitting this one out. Duke came to me! It’s up to me to save the villagers from the world in between, and it’s up to me to stop whatever the giant spider-men are planning on doing.”
Gramps leaned forward. He put one bony, liver-spotted hand on Maria’s, and sighed again. His face lost all of the humor that was usually there.
Maria moved her hand out from under his.
