Vision Quest Read Free Page A

He rested his elbows on my headlight and sighed.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t mind a man making money,” Dad said. “But I don’t like him stealing it.”
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked.
    â€œYour fucking father flipped out is what happened,” Lucas said. He shook his bloody dentures in Dad’s face. “This crazy bastard broke my teeth!” he yelled at the cops.
    The ambulance attendant made Lucas lie down on a stretcher. “For Chrissake,” said Lucas. “I’m all right.”
    â€œWe got a call somebody was hurt,” the guy said.
    â€œWell, it ain’t me,” Lucas replied.
    One of the cops took Lucas’s statement and the other took Dad’s. All of us, except Dad, leered at the girl. “Fuck you guys!” she screeched, giving us the finger. She turned and fingered the mechanics who stood looking at us from the shop door. She fingered the salesmen looking at us from behind the showroom window.
    The ambulance attendant taped Dad’s hand and the girl grabbed her shirt from my handlebars.
    â€œPull that Ford in, park the wrecker, and go down to The Shack and wait for me,” Dad said, flipping me the wrecker keys. “Buy her a sandwich,” he said, pointing to Carla.
    Carla and I walked the six blocks to The Shack. I’d have taken her on the bike if I’d had an extra helmet. But I didn’t, so I had to push it along the curb. First a guy in a Dodge van stopped to give me and the bike a lift; then a guy in a Toyota pickup stopped. By the time I told themI was just walking with a friend who didn’t have a helmet and thanked them for the offer, Carla was two blocks down the street. I pushed the bike at a dead run to catch her.
    â€œI’m Louden Swain,” I puffed. “That guy back at the car lot was my dad.”
    â€œI know,” she said.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” I asked. God, she was beautiful. She had curly red hair that blew a little in the breeze. Her nose was small and her face was lightly freckled. Her breasts swayed slightly at the speed she walked.
    â€œCarla,” she replied.
    â€œWhat happened back there?” I asked.
    â€œAccording to your dad, that guy he punched sold me the car for too much money.”
    â€œHow much did you pay?”
    â€œA hundred and forty dollars.”
    I could have bought that old Ford for fifty bucks. Lucas sold it to Carla for $140. Dad and I could have dropped another engine in it for that kind of money. She thought she was getting a deal because Lucas filled it with gas. Someone had primered it without sanding, so from a distance the finish looked fuzzy. Carla got off on the idea of a fuzzy car. She also liked all the space created by its lack of a backseat. “Lots of animals could have ridden there,” she said. She made it as far as the freeway ramp.
    We got to The Shack and Carla went in without waiting for me. I hustled the bike around to the parking lot and wassprinting back to the door when Dad pulled in. I walked over to his car. “That was fast,” I said.
    â€œDoesn’t take long to lose your job,” he replied.
    I didn’t press for details.
    We spotted Carla in a booth at the very back. Dad said hello to all the waitresses and to six or eight guys in coats and ties seated at the counter and in the booths. They acted a little funny, so I figured maybe they’d already heard what had happened. The Shack’s right on what they call “auto row,” so a lot of car-business guys eat there. I’d been meeting Dad for lunch or dinner at The Shack for as long as I could remember. When I was real young Mom would dress me in little suits with hats and short pants and take me down to show me off. Then when I got older I’d take the bus by myself.
    â€œSorry about putting you through all that,” Dad said to Carla.
    â€œI’m sorry about the trouble I’ve caused