MILE-O-MINUTE “MOM” MAGAZINE

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MILE-O-MINUTE “MOM” MAGAZINE

Vol.I, No.1, 4/4/04

THE STORY OF OUR TRAVELS

I saw it out of the corner of one eye.  It was only a cloud of dust on the road ahead - only that and nothing else did I see as I picked up my rifle and started for home.  Home!  Gee whiz, what a home I had now!  If my mother had lived it would have been good home all right.  But with Aunt Cordelia always scolding and whipping me, and my Pop never coming home any more, well - I wished it wasn't my home.  But I had to stay some place; I had to have a place to sleep.  So I started to go back, with two rabbits that I had shot in the field over on Mooder's place.  Mr. Mooder and I were friends since I helped him with his mountain lion troubles and now he let me hunt the fields whenever I wanted to.  In return, I gave him some of the game from time to time.

"Hi, fella," he said to me, "how far is it to Watertown?" 

 

"One mile to the bridge," I answered; "Watertown is on the other side of the river.  Keep on, straight ahead; you can't miss it." "Thanks," he said; "you don't happen to be goin' that way, do you?  I'll take you along, if you want.  There's just room for one more." 

 

I shook my head.  "No," I said, "I got to get home soon; I live down t'other way.  Thank you, just the same, though." 

 

"All right," he said; "don't do nothin' you shouldn't.  I'd like to take you, fella, but may be your maw'd be worried-" "I ain't got any mother," I told him. "Ah!" he said.  Then he was silent.  He looked up at my face.  "Excuse me for saying that; I know how you feel.  I aint got no mother, neither.  That's how come I’m to be goin' 'round the world all by myself this-a-way.  Ain’t got nobody to boss me, and I'm goin' to do just what I please.  That school marm, Ol' Miss Noble say she was goin' to git the truant officer after me, but I ain't afeared of him.  When I put my foot down on this ‘yere pedal - this one right ‘yere - ain't nobody can catch up with me.  I go so fast you got to have a spyglass to see me 5 seconds after I pass."  I looked inside the gray colored interior and noticed 3 pedals there, but I didn’t say anything cause I didn’t want to let on I didn’t know much about cars. "Golly, M o s e s!" I exclaimed, where'd you get such a fast machine?" "My Daddy left her to me – she’s called a ZR1 – (‘breviated from Z-ora a-R-kus d-ONE-tov, the great guy who invented these cars I think).  When they come out first, they beat all the world land speed and endurance records and made all the fancy forrin’ car makers jealous cause they only cost 1/4 as much, and could beat ‘em all six ways to Sunday.  She was wrecked pretty bad when Pop went over that cliff at dead-man’s curve down home a ways.  But he died happy cause he made it to 200 miles an hour before he hit a loose stone or sumthin’ and couldn’t keep her on the road.  That was his life-long ambition to get up to 200, and he did it by gosh.”  I noticed a kind of wetness in his eyes behind the glasses as he continued, “Pop didn’t make it, and neither did this old ZR1, but I fixed her back up cause me and Pop loved this old tub.  You wouldn't believe it to look at her now, would you?  No, course not.  This old body is fiberglass – won’t never rust nor nothin’.  Then I got the busted engine fixed and made it even faster than it was – it’s called an LT5, you know, and is all aluminum so it won’t rust neither – fixed her back up with my pal Speedy Sprague, him what keeps the garage back home, and I found some of the parts here and there, and the wheels you see them wheels? - well, they come off two different wrecks from the bone yard.  And I got her lookin’ like new with a great paint job from DJ’s paint barn and I like to keep everythin’ in perfect order and shinin’ real good too.  Cars go faster when you keep ‘em waxed and shiny, you know.  You wouldn’t believe all the trophies I got from car shows and from racin’ too.  I had to sell the trophies cause I needed money to eat, and anyways, you can’t haul all that gold around when you travel as much as me.  Then I got her fixed so she'll run on land or water - see that airyplane screw stickin out back there underneath?  That's what gits her through the water when I unhitch the gears.  Yes, sir, over land and water, nothing stops me, but maybe once in a while if I am goin’ 180 or so, a tree I didn't see in time or a lazy cow what don't know any road manners gits in the way and I have to fix it up agin’; but no matter how banged up she gits see, she is as sturdy as an ox and you just can’t keep her down long.  And I just got to keep goin’.  A quitter never wins you know." "Gee!" I said, "some bus!"  I had to say something cause this kid didn’t seem like he would ever stop talking. "You bet,” he said, “and it's all around the world for me this time. I'm on my way. I'm going to do some great things, I tell you. I'm goin' to see every place in your geography - remember those maps, England and Germany and France and Africa and China -?"  He was fastidiously wiping off the portions of the car here and there as we talked and he had a little bottle of liquid he would spritz here and there before he wiped.  Then he would stand back a little and look her up and down this direction and that, and once in a while he would mumble a little something to himself kinda, and re-wipe the same spot he just did.  It seemed like a lot of unnecessary work, but he looked so happy that I know it was doing him good to do it. "All 'round the world?" I repeated. I couldn't believe that. "How would you be able to cross the ocean in that machine?" "Didn't I just tell you she would ride the water?" he said, with a very serious look on his face, "but if I got stuck out in the ocean, I'll just wait till a ship comes along to save me.  And I won't let any ship take me back home; no sir, the one that picks me up will have to put me down in China or somewhere new.  You see, I'll have things all fixed right.  I been thinkin' it out for a long time." "Well, maybe so," I said.  But won’t the salt water hurt it none?  Seems like it will be a hard job, sure.” “Heck, kid, you ain’t payin’ a lick of attention to me.  I done told you this here ZR1 is made of fiberglass and it don’t rust.  And the undercarriage and LT5 engine is aluminum so it won’t rust neither – plus it was made by a boat motor buildin’ company that knows how to make stuff that works in water of all kinds.  This old Z is bulletproof sure, don’tcha know.” “Oh yeah,” I says, “that makes sense.  Say, don't you ever get tired traveling though?"  I felt like saying didn’t he ever get tired of talking so much, but I bit my tongue for once. "Naw," he said, "I see too many sights to get tired.  Been driving all day today and ain't tired a bit.  Stopped once to get some gas.  A fella who drove a limuzeen had too much in his tank; it was spillin' out every time he went over a bump, and me driving behind his car, I see his tank was too full, so the first time he stopped I got out my water gun - I use that water gun there to git it out o' tanks for fellas what has too much in - and I took enough out o' his limuzeen tank so he wouldn't go on spillin' it all over the road; it's a shame to waste gas.  Anyways, I needed it purty badly myself-running low.  So, you see, I did that man a favor and did myself a good turn, too." "Did he thank you for doing that?" I asked. "Who? Him? Say, don't you know you ain't supposed to go around tellin' everybody all the good things you do for 'em?  Course I din't tell him. I never like to git thanked for things I do for a fella.  I just waited till he went in the house. Then I slipped out and fixed it for him.  I bet he is glad he ain't spillin' gas all over the road now." "Yeah, I bet he is," I said. I wisht’ I was like you.  I guess you have the best times." My new friend spent about 20 minutes wiping off everything inside and out of the ZR1 so it looked like it just came off the new car line.  He sure was picky about the looks of the car.   When I meet nice people I know 'em" he went on; "and, you - you look like a nice fella to me.  How would you like to have me go to your house and eat supper with you?  I got a good appetite." He grinned at me when he said that.  I thought of home - what would Aunt Cordelia say if I brought this boy home for supper.  Not much. "I wisht’ I could," I answered him; "but the truth is, I just can't.  I ain't got a regular home like other fellas; I’m stayin' at my Aunt Cordelia's, and she don't care for me much.  I can't take you up there-but, say, if 'you're hungry, I'll get you something to eat." "Will you, kid? Gee, that's fine.  Didn't I tell you I know nice people when I see 'em? I knew you was a nice fella-" "Where will you wait?" I asked.  "I'll be gone most likely for a half hour, till I can get my supper and get back here." "Let's see - those trees yonder make a nice camping ground," he, said; "I'll park the ol’ “Z” under those trees and git myself comfortable – I can clean the old girl up a bit whilst I wait - I'll be waiting there easy, so don't make no hurry for me, fella.  Take your time, my appetite will keep." I left him there and walked toward home. I knew I was going to get a scolding for going hunting, and for taking Lem's rifle.  Aunt Cordelia always scolded me for that.  And for most everything else.  But Lem could go out hunting any time he wanted to - he was Aunt Cordelia's boy. You see, when my mother died, I was only a little kid, and it weren't long till Pop married Aunt Cordelia - he told me I must always call her Aunt. I saw Lem standing at the gate when I come up. "You been usin' my rifle again, haint you?" he said to me, with a sour look on his face that made me know right away I was going to catch it. But I didn't answer him. I walked on back to the shed, put the rifle up on the shelf and then came back to the kitchen door.  Aunt Cordelia opened the door. 

 "Where you been?" she demanded. "An' you didn't chop the kindlin' nor  nothin' - what do you mean by bein' so shiftless?" With that she give me a clap alongside my ear so that it seemed like bells were ringing in my head. She kept on scolding me - if Aunt Cordelia had only stopped that everlasting scolding of me I might have been there yet - not minding the claps on my head and the whippin's with that black strap.  I can stand a pretty good-size slap on the ear or a knock on the bean, but dern if I can stand everlasting scolding.  I saw Lem come in laughing - he could do anything he pleased Lem could. She never scolded him, but I guess that was all right; Lem was her boy and she was his mother.  But she never even give me time to tell her that I had done did the chopping the kindling before I went out hunting, and there was a stack of wood out in the shed.  She was glad to get the rabbits I brought - I could see that the way she grabbed 'em cut of my hand - but she never said thank you for 'em.  I didn't answer her back.  No, I know better.  It never does any good, only makes it worse for me in the long run.  But I sat down in my place at the table.  I took some bread and cold meat-there wasn't much of anything else on the table-and I shoved some in my pocket when they weren't looking.  I acted like I wasn't very hungry, but I was.  Only I wanted to save some food for that poor kid who was waiting for me to bring him a supper.  Then Aunt Cordelia sat down; she scolded me because my Pop didn’t come home no more.  As if I could help that.  No.  He wouldn’t come home for weeks at a time - I couldn't make my Pop come home; most likely it was Aunt Cordelia's scolding that made him stay away so long at times.  Then that little snip of a Lem up and says: "Maw, he's been taking my rifle out again - had it all afternoon, and when I wanted to get it, I couldn't find it." Aunt Cordelia glared down at me. "Is that the truth, young man?" she demanded. "Yes'm," I answered. I had Lem's gun, 'cause I ain't been able to use mine since Lem dropped it in the creek.  I had a hard enough time fishin' it out o' the water, Aunt Cordy -" But that was enough from me.  I saw Aunt Cordelia put down her fork --that was the signal for me to get up and run if I had any notion at all to save myself.  But I didn't have the heart any more.  No.  I just let her grab me by the collar and drag me ever to the wall by the stove, where the black whip hung.  She kept on scolding as she brought that black strap down across my back; and when I struggled away she ran after me and lashed me across my legs, and I didn't know where to run so that I stumbled over in a corner and lay there till she let up  on me.  I tell you there ain't nobody in this world who can whip harder than Aunt Cordelia.  Oh, boy!  She could certainly wield a wicked whip! "Shame on you, taking that gun after I told you to let it alone," she said, at last letting up on me.  "You know it ain’t your'n, and you ain't got the right -." "But I used my own cartridges, Aunt Cordy," I said; "I only borrowed the rifle -" "Makes no diff'rence, young man. You got to mind me when I tell you  something - they's got to be some law in this house purty soon, or -" I didn't wait.  I saw my chance to get to the door as she turned back to the table.  I took the chance.  I leaped through the door like a deer over a log in one bound.  I slipped on the step, though, and sat down hard outside with a thump of my rump on the second step.   I jumped up quick, but as I got on my feet I saw Lem starting after me. I never liked Lem, but I never used to say much to him; now when I saw him start after me, I liked him worse an' ever.  I dodged out of the front gate with him at my heels.  As I turned to run down the road, I saw Aunt Cordy standing in the door, her figure like a black shadow against the light inside.  Then I ran.  Lem ran.  I knew he was faster than me because he was two years older'n me.  Just at the corner of the last fence I thought he had me sure, but something happened.  Yeah,  something happened there that I didn't expect.  Neither did Lem.  For I heard him give a little cry of downright fear; and it made me turn quick as a wink, to see somebody light upon Lem's shoulders and bear him to the ground. They tumbled over in the cinder path together.  I ran back Lo help Lem.  I thought as he was a half brother to me in a way, it was my place to help him when he needed help and I could give it.  But when I reached them rolling over on the cinders, I saw  that Lem was underneath, and on top of him was my new friend, the boy who owned the ZR1 automobile, who had been waiting for me to bring him some supper. "I saw everything, fella," he said to me; "I saw the old lady give you a thrashin' up there, and it made me hot, you bet it did; and I saw you light out o' there and break away, and it made me think a whole lot of you for that.  But when I see this big sneak take out after you, I just says to myself it's gone too far.  So I short-cutted the yard down to this corner, and jumped on top of the fence and waited.  I landed right down on top of this bully-chaser when he comes past." "Oh, you must let him up," I said; "Aunt Cordelia will whip me because you did this." "Let, me up, you!" snapped Lem, shooting his fist into the boy's face, but just missing.  So he let Lem up, but he held him by the coat.  Then he said to Lem: "Get back to where you come from mighty quick," and he gave Lem a kick that sent him back flying in the dust.  Lem stood just a minute, looking as if he wanted to do something, but he thought better of it, I guess, for he turned and went back without a word. "Come on," said my new friend, "let's go." Together we walked down the road, until we came to the trees under which he had his ZR1 automobile.  It looked even shinier than before, so I knew he had had fun.  The engine was running, although I had to get real close to tell because it was so quiet and didn’t bounce around as many cars I had been used to seeing at an idle.  Two of the small lights in front were lit now, and some big headlights had popped up from the front somehow so the machine sure did look like an ugly bug now, with two big eyes popping out.  If I had come upon that thing all of a sudden somewhere in the dark on a still night, derned if I wouldn't have got the worst scare of my life.  It just looked like some  monster mole that had dug out of its burrow.  A campfire smoldered alongside the machine, making firefly sparkles in the shiny surfaces, and on a rod across two pronged sticks over the fire swung a little coffee pot. "Smells good, don't she?" he asked.  "That's fine coffee I cook.  But I guess it's all I'm goin' to have for supper tonight." "Here," I said, "here's some bread and cold meat." He looked surprised. "You mean you fetched that away with you?" he asked. "With all that whippin' and tongue lashin' you got?” "Eat it," I said; "it's all I could get.  If you're hungry it'll taste all right." He said no more, but went to his auto and wiped off a few places where something had fallen out of a tree, then he fished around for something under the seat.  He brought out a tin cup and a bottle of milk.  He poured milk into the cup and then went to the coffee pot hanging over the fire and filled the cup with the steaming stuff.  Then he sat down and began to eat the food I had brought.  I sat across the fire from him and watched him closely.  He had a firm cut jaw and a look of confidence that I had not noticed in other fellas.  It did me good to see the way the boy could eat.  He was so hungry.  But he ate with fine manners and I knew he was brought up a nice kid.  You don't know how much I liked this kid the very first time I set eyes on him.  And I've liked him better every minute I've been with him since.  Finally, when he had finished, he put the pot and things back into his machine.  I was yet to find out what a load of truck he carried in that little automobile of his.  Seemed to me later that whenever we needed any kind of an article, we could dig it out of that car somewhere.  So he put his things back, and, taking down the sticks from which his coffee pot had swung, he broke them in pieces and put them in the fire.  Then he sat down and looked across the fire at me. "'s 'at your home up there?" he asked. "Call it that if you like," I answered; "when I was a little kid, no bigger'n so high, I had a fine home; you don't have to believe me if you don't want to, but I had good times till my mother died.  Then when Aunt Cordelia came-." We did not speak then for some time. Both of us sat looking into the fire. I knew he was thinking. So was I. 

 "You'd best come with me," said my new friend; I ain't got no more home ‘an a rabbit, but I tell you, kid, I wouldn't change places with you - no siree-bob.  Not for a million dollars." "Wouldn't ask a cent for it," I said. "Look at me," he continued; "look at me here and then look at you.  Here is me, goin' a ridin' every day, takin' my time around the world.  There is you, stayin' in a place as you ain't wanted in and takin' beatin's for nothin' from somebody who ain't got no feelin's for you.  She ain't got no right to whip you like that.  I seen her tonight.  I just slipped up and peeped in.  Say-" He stopped suddenly and looked up at me.  I threw a handful of small wood on the blaze. "What?" I asked. "You had any schoolin'?" "Some. I went to the eighth grade -" "Well, you can write, can't you put things down on paper, things you see happen and what you hear, and all like that?" "I don't know.  Maybe I could.  Guess a fella can do anything if he has to." I looked up but he was not sitting at the fire any more.  He was back over to the car, wiping things off under the hood.  I got up and went over too and that was the first time I had seen the engine he called the LT5.  Gosh, it was beautiful the way it looked so strong and solid and just sparkling in different spots with the reflections of the fire.  The plug wires were red and that was the perfect touch to make the whole picture even more remarkable.  And boy was it clean under there!  The engines I had seen on the cars around here before were mostly black with oil and grease and so forth, but this was so clean you could see every part of the steering gear and everything shined proudly.  I could even read the numbers stamped on each part here and there even though it was night-time.  Wow, what a sight!  Something seemed to whisper in my mind – something like an older girl’s voice with a kind of growl that reminded me of the way the exhaust on that ZR1 sounded.  It just said, “Hi there big boy, wanna play?”   Now where could that have come from?  I looked at my new friend to see if he heard it too, but he was busy brushing off some grass that had found its way in the wheel-well.  “Must be tired,” I said to myself.   "Well, listen to me, fella,” He said all of a sudden. “You're the very one I'm looking for.  If you had a home and a Mom and a Pop who'd miss you, I wouldn't think of talkin' this way to you, but you just lissen a minute - I'm goin' all around the world.  I want somebody who can write down all the things I do, and every place I drive through, and everything we see, and all the trophies we win from races and shows we will enter, so that everybody in the world can read about this wonderful ZR1 trip we took.  See?  Now, could you do that?" "I guess I could," I said, slowly. "Well, then, there's just room for you and me in this little bus.  Come along with me.  I'll be a pal to you, and I'll stick to you all the time.  I'll see you through."  He was wiping the inside of the windshield as we talked. "I only got four dollars," I warned him.  I tried to take the rag from him to help by wiping the other side of the windshield, but he kinda shook his head and quickly pulled out of my reach without saying anything about it. Now he was brushing things off the carpet and leaned over real close to me and said. "Four more'n I got; you're rich," and laughed; "can't you go up to the house now and slip in and git what you want to take along?  Do it right away, if you want; but if you're afraid to go back, jump in and we'll be on our way." "I'm afraid to go," I said; "I never been away from home -" "Home?" he said.  "Why, you ain't got no home, fella.  You're worse off ‘an me, I tell you that.  Look here.  Think what it means to go all around the world!  And you never been 180, so your life is just about to begin.”  “180 what?”, I thought. That got me though.  That business of going around the world - after he put that idea in my head, I just couldn't honestly say that I didn't want to go with him.  Yet there was one thing - "She might send the constable after me," I said. "What constable ?  What kind of a car's he got?" "He rides horseback," I said. "Oh, sugar! Say, a horse couldn't keep up with this bus for 10 feet. Don't be a’feared o' that, boy.  But say, maybe you think I'm coaxing you.  Now don't think that, will you?  No.  That's right.  I'll be packing up the things, and you just sit here and think it over.  Maybe you can make up your mind by the time I get through." So I sat there and thought it over; but I knew my mind was made up before I began to think.  Yeah, I knew I was hankering to get into that little bug of a ZR1 machine and tell this fella to let 'er rip.  I was just aching to get away from Aunt Cordelia and Lem.  Seemed to me then that God knew what I was going through; seemed like it was Him who sent this funny little kid with his bug machine to take me away.  I slipped up to the house while the boy was busy in back of his auto; I climbed the back porch and got into my room, and in a hurry I threw some of my clothes together and tied it into a bundle.  Then I went to the old bureau and took my four silver dollars that I had saved up since I was little.  I heard Aunt Cordy down in the kitchen; so I slipped out the window again easy as I could and dropped from the porch roof into the soft mud, and made my way noiselessly to the gate.  Once I turned to look back at the old house; I saw the door open and Lem go in.  Then I turned and walked out to the road. 

 Pidgin Sanford and Joe Zachary stood there waiting for me. "Good boy, Hap," said Joe, "we just come 'round to see if you could git out tonighta n’ here you is.  Me and Pidgin's goin' for frogs.  Look the sticks we got, with prong-ends-that's to stab 'em with.  Old Mister Mobley says he caught some last night with hind legs a foot long.  We got our flashlights with us, to find 'em with.  Gee, it'll be great sport, Hap." I shook my head. "Wish I could," I said, "but I ain't got time for that tonight, Joe. You boys go ahead. I got to see a fella down the road a piece." "You mean the fella with the funny automobile?" asked Pidgin. "Yeah," I said; "I got a 'pointment with him. I told him I'd be there, so I want to keep my word. You fellas have good luck and catch a whole lot. I m sorry I can't go, but I just got to do some business with that boy down the road yonder. So long." I turned away and started walking quickly down the road.  I knew the boys were wondering why it was I wouldn't go along with 'em tonight. We've been pretty good friends for years, and hardly a day passed but what we’d meet, about a dozen of us, down in Meeder's field, where we had our ball games and other kinds of fun.  And now I was going to leave all that behind me.  I might never see Joe and Pidgin again. "Oh, Joe!" I called, "wait a minute, you and Pidgin.  I got to say a word to you." I hurried back along the road, and they turned and started walking toward me. "What's the matter with you tonight, Hap?" asked Joe. "You ain't yourself - you don't act right." "No," I said, "I ain't myself, fellas. I don't want you boys to remember me as you see me tonight - I'm all worked up.  But I do want you to think of me, sometimes.  I may never see you again.  I want to say goodbye, right now.  I'm going away --- tonight, Joe." Joe gave me a funny look.  He was always good to me, Joe Zachary was. "Hap," he said, "you mean you're really going away - going to leave the old town and never play with us fellas – ever again ?" "I guess that's it, Joe," I said. "You know how it is.  I got to get me a job or something.  I'm going to make a fresh start.  I guess I'll come out all right, but if I don't nobody will care much.  Maybe you fellas will, though." You could have knocked Joe Zachary over with a feather - he was so surprised to hear me talk that way.  He didn't move.  Pidgin started to step up, but Joe held out his arm and stopped him.   Hap," said Joe, "you must be crazy - you can't mean what you're a-sayin'. You mean you're goin' to let that fella down the road take you away in his machine?  You goin' to be side-pardners with him?  How do you know what he is, Hap?  He might get you in trouble.” "I don't think so," I said, "because I like his looks, Joe.  He's goin' all 'round the world.  Listen.  And there I told them all about what happened that evening, and what the boy had said to me.  By the time I finished, I think both Joe and Pidgin were hankering to go along. "If I had a home like you fellas," I said, "not for a minute would I think of leaving it.  But you know how it is with me, Joe?" They both nodded their heads.  "Hap," said Joe, "I wish you wouldn't 'av' done this, makin' up your mind so sudden.  But I know you, and it ain't no use for us to try to change your mind when it's made up. Course we'll miss you, but maybe you'll write to me, sometimes?" There was really a sad tone in Joe's voice as he took my hand and shook it. "Good-bye, Joe, I gotta go,” I said with a little catch in my voice. He turned away from we without a word.  I don't believe Joe wanted to see me go.  He couldn't have said "good-bye" to me at that minute if he wanted to.  But Pidgin had a smile on his face as he grabbed my hand. "You'll make good, Hap," he said.  "I'm glad you got the nerve to do it.  It ain’t right for you to stand the way your Aunt Cordy treated you, nohow.  If you ever get in Dutch any place, makes no difference how or where, just let us fellas know.  We'll git help to you someway, somehow, and git you out.  Good-by, Hap." He turned quickly and ran after his pal, who had walked some distance down the road toward the frog pond, I stood there with my little bundle under my arm and watched them until they were lost in the dark, and there was a lump in my throat when I turned to go, and, by jiminy, if I didn't have to brush my eyes dry.  So it goes.  Everything must come to an end some time.  But it's hard to break away from old friends. I quickly made my way back to the clump of trees on the roadside.  I heard the sweet noise of the powerful LT5 motor as the little ZR1 machine shot out onto the road.  Something about that sound just made me happy to hear it.   "I'm going," I said, as my friend leaned out to hear me. "I'm ready now."  I had to shout to make myself heard above the noise of the car. "Great!  Come on in.  Open the door careful like and just touch the handle, not the paint.  Clean off your feet real good and throw your duds under the seat, and try not to get fingerprints on anything." he said.  I carefully did as he told me, and got into the fiberglass shell of that ZR1 machine and sat down beside him.  He held out his hand and I took it and we shook hard. "You got spunk," he said. "I'm glad to know you, kid; what's your name?" "Happy Hazard," I said; "what's your'n ?" He was busy getting the machine backed up and turned around and he didn't answer me right away.  The motor was going like thunder.  Then, as he let her start forward, the noise died down, and he gripped the wheel with both hands, and turned to me and said: "Seems like you weren't named just right, don't it?  How come you to be called Happy when you never knew what happy was?" "The fellas nicknamed me that," I said. "My right name's Randy, but I been used to hearing the fellas call me by my nickname so long that when a fella asks me my name I always say 'Hap Hazard.'  I've most forgot the Randy part by this time.’"  He laughed and said, “Heck, that’s as good a name as any, but how about if we just call you ZR1Randy from now on since you’re ridin’ with me in the ZR1 now?”   I thought that sounded pretty nice, and said so. 

 "Mile-O-Minute is what they nicknamed me," he said. "My right name's Dave Bright - sounds like `stage fright' don't it?  Hahaha!  The old guys in town said I was always goin a mile a minute in this here ZR1 – but we really go more’n 3 miles in a minute with this ZR1.  Then they said, OK, but you idle at a mile a minute.  ‘Well, that ain’t right either’, I says, but you get tired of tellin’ some folks over and over.  And then when I got to really knowin’ how to be drivin' this ZR1 proper - well, I do go pretty fast some times, and most of the guys who rode with me kept yellin’ for their Momma when we got goin’ real good – and if you use the ‘nitials for Mile-o-Minute, that spells MoM, so they all started just callin’ me MoM for short.  You just watch and see if they nicknamed me right when you see how fast we get goin."  Right now for starters, I’ll show you how we can go from zero to 60 in 4 seconds – here we go!” Whirr! Bang! Squeel! Roar!  And away we went – Goodnight! – like a shot from a gun we started down that road, only the rays from the headlamps to be seen high in the trees ahead, cause it was a dark night.  Then all of a sudden, I saw a blur of tree trunks as the lights in the car lit up tree after tree after tree, round and round at least twice and we were stopped dead, facin’ back the other way – we had spun around and around so fast that we didn’t go anywhere but in a circle and went smack dab back where we started from.  “HAHAHAHA!” MoM laughed, “I did another danged donut!”  “I always seem to do that when I am trying to show off the car to a new person the first time.  Just gave her a little too much gas at the first and this here is a mighty slippery road.”  Now, get set cause I’m gonna do ‘er right this time.”  “Nno! Wwwaai….” I tried to shout wait, but too late.  Off we shot once again, and this time I could feel the tires gripping, even though they were spinning fast and throwing chunks of stones and dirt out the back.  My back was pinned to the seat and pressing harder and harder.  We were going like a jet aircraft before I knew it.  "Oh Momma!” I screamed without knowing I was saying it.  “Slow her up please!" I yelled.  "I believe, you, all right, you got your name honest." But he couldn't hear me in all the noise that the motor made.  Else he acted like he couldn't.  Just out of the corner of my water-filled eye, I could see the numbers on the speedometer rolling faster and faster – 170 / 180 / 185….  Well, on we shot down the road, and I couldn't quite hold my head up, because of the pressure and the wind cut my face like knives coming at me, and I was afraid that any minute we would see something in the road too late to stop and we would smash into it.  Once we did pass a slower car – he said it was a Viper horse and wagon - I think it was a horse and wagon, but I only got a glimpse of it - my heart was in my mouth when I saw how close we whizzed past it. I raised myself and looked back, but it was long past out of sight.  MoM slowed up a little and then he laughed heartily.       "How'd you like that?" he asked. "Listen, buddie," I said, "don't do that again, will you?  Else I'll have to get out and go back."  But secretly, I loved going so fast so quickly and being in a ZR1 too. "All rightie," he said, "I'll take you slower till you git used to it." Slow my eye.  For even as we were going a bit slower now, the dark shapes of telephone poles along the road sailed by so fast that they looked like a picket fence.  I was going to tell him to slow her up more, but I shook my head and said to myself: "Let him go.  I guess he's right - I'll get used to it."  I have to admit, I did like it a lot.  I guess my life did just begin when he hit 180 cause it is a thrill I remember to this day.  And the sound that engine made – oh baby, I was in love with that sweet music.  I knew someday I would have to get a ZR1 of my own to drive around like this with ol’ MoM driving his right next to me.     On we went.  There were not many automobiles in our town, and after dark you hardly ever see any machines on the road.  So we had an open road, and it was lucky for us, the way that boy stepped on the gas.  But he was careful. I could see that.  He did not say another word to me, but paid strict attention to his wheel and the road ahead.  Seemed to me he had eyes like a cat, for he could see things in the dark long before I could.  I'd have to be right up on a thing before I knew it was there.  But MoM (still seems funny to be calling a real man MoM) saw it a half mile off.  We rode for a while before we made our first stop.  He wouldn't have stopped then, I guess, but our road crossed the railroad track at a little station, and a train was just pulling in, and we got out to stretch our legs and wait till the train went on.  Of course, MoM had to wipe off a few spots on the fenders.  I tried to help, but he said he could handle it.  Guess he liked to do it more than he liked to have it done for him.  We went into the restaurant room, and I thought maybe MoM was as hungry as I was, so I took out one of my silver dollars and bought two sandwiches.  While we were eating, he didn't say a word, but I could see he was thinking deep.  When he had finished his sandwich, he said, "Wait here a minute," and went back outside to his little ZR1 machine, and through the window I could see him wiping off the hand prints I had made on the dashboard and then he was rummaging around under the seat of the car.  In a little while he came back with a notebook computer - this very notebook in which I am writing - and handed it to me, together with a car plug and carry case. "Here," he said, "this is goin' to be yours.  You can remember everything that happened since I met you, can't you?" "Sure," I said, "I only met you about two hours a-" "That's fine," he said. "This is the notebook you got to write it down in. Now remember, everything that happens is got to be put down in this notebook.  Just like it happened.  Don't miss a thing, now.  Folks will want to read about me an’ the ZR1 – about everything I do and every place I go around the world.  You can put your own name in where you want to, of course.  You better start right now before you forgit anything.  Sit here in the waiting room.  When we get to a place where we can get on the internet, you can post it for all the other members to read.”  “Other members of what?” I says.  “You’ll find out in due time.” He grinned.  “Say, you ain't afraid of the Constable catchin' up with us now, are you?" "Listen," I said, "you see by that clock that we have been gone just twenty minutes?" "Yeah," he answered; "I noticed that." "And you see the name of this station, don't you?" "Sure, there it is, right a-top the clock - `Belleville.' " "Well, this town is 62 miles from where we started from -" "Sure," he said, laughing, "you don't know me yet, but you will.  Sure, 60 miles in 1/3 an hour -" "Sure, no constable can catch up with you.  They should have named you 3 Miles-O-Minute.  You sure go that fast." “Yes,” he said, and you have now found out why life begins at 180.” "Put that down in the notebook," he said with a big smile. So here I started to write down the strange adventures of ZR1Dave,  nick-named MoM by all who knew him, or Mile-O-Minute MoM.  Maybe you think I was very foolish to ever get mixed up with him; and maybe you think I did wrong to leave home, no matter how hard Aunt Cordelia made it for me; well, maybe so.  I don't know.  But I will say right here that MoM was a true friend to me when I needed a friend, and that's all I ask of anybody.  We had some hard times, MoM and me, and I often thought how good some fellows have it in a nice home with their Maw and Paw and brothers and sisters - believe me, if I could have had my pick, I wouldn't have picked out any, round-the-world stunt for mine.  But it was just my luck.  We had hard times, but we had exciting times,  too, and I think may be it made me a better boy to have to stand some hard licks.  Anyway, I am glad MoM and his ZR1 came into my life: I'm glad I went with him, and I'm glad he liked me well enough to ask me to go along. MoM had one fault that sometimes made me feel sore at him.  He was a little stuck on himself.  He always thought whatever he did should be written down for all people to read.  He wanted everybody to know how fast he could go in his home-fixed ZR1 machine and how he could beat everybody in a car show or a race and how he skinned us out of every tight place we ever got into.  Ah, well, everybody has some fool notion.  That one was MoM's.  I don't know but maybe it was a good thing at that.  First place, it kept me pretty busy writing, and while I was doing that I was happy, because I like to write; and then it will give a lots of boys and girls a chance to read about some of the strangest adventures that ever happened to any boy; adventures that I don't think any boy in the future will ever have again.  I am glad I was always by his side to see him through - never could a brother have stood by brother as we stood by each other.  He was good to me too.  In all my life I never met a boy I liked better than MoM.  He taught me how to wipe off different parts of the car with special towels and little sticks with cotton on the end, and so forth.  He explained the 4 cams and 32 valves and how that and the other parts worked like a symphony together to make the car the best in the whole world.  And anything that went wrong with the car or engine, he had fixed in a jiffy, he did.  He let me sit behind the wheel a few times and even start the car once or twice, but he never let me drive.  He always promised to teach me to drive the way he did, but I am still waiting.  Those times I started the engine, I always heard that girl’s throaty voice – every time too - but I never told MoM for fear he would think I was goin’ cuckoo on him.  The first time, I heard in a softer tone, “There you are again – you do want to play, don’t you?”  Then the second time, just as it fired up, the voice, even sexier then said, “I’ve got a friend who is going to just love you.”  I wondered what that meant for a long time, and hoped one day I would find out.  Which I did.   So I went everywhere with old MoM in that pretty little ZR1, and I wrote down for MoM his whole story from the time we met and every night I would write some more.  He thought a whole lot of me for that I think.  He couldn't spell worth a nickel.  And, you see, just because I could, he thought a heap of me.  Before I had been with him very long I began to like to write about him and that ZR1 and all the great folks we met along the way who also had ZR1 cars.  That was the other “members” he was talking about before.  They were all so wonderful and hospitable to us, and it seemed like one universal brotherhood club that really didn’t have any official name – just ZR1-ers as they all called themselves.  And it was the same in every foreign country we went too – we were all brothers and sisters and we liked each other before we even met.  And we all kept in touch with the internet where  MoM invented a special way that we could write one email and everybody got to see it at the same time and could send in their comments too, and he kept it in a special archive place so we could go back and read any note again whenever we wanted to.  And MoM never let any bad talk get goin’ in the email neither – he kept all the ZR1 children (as he thought of us) in line and playing nice.  We all thought that was another good reason to call him MoM.  The ZR1.net was the internet address and what we called the club too.  The members all loved ZR1 cars, every single one of them – and they loved all Corvettes too.  You would love their ZR1 cars too – all colors and concoctions of ZR1’s and LT5’s and they always were doing something together on the weekends with those cars and other Corvettes.  One thing I found out real quick was they all believed that first and foremost, the ZR1 was Corvette, “only more so”, as they all said.  And all the members of the club helped each other in anything that needed helpin’.  They were fair and square with each other and I never heard of one ZR1-er taking unfair advantage of another.  That seemed to be the unwritten club motto – “Fair & Square”.  They all let me be a part of the club group even when I didn’t drive my own ZR1.  They said you don’t have to own a ZR1 to be a member, you just have to love the ZR1 and what it stands for.

 

There seemed to be always other special things to write about, too.  Seemed like every town we got into we saw excitement or trouble, and we always found ourselves in the middle of it.  Right soon there was one adventure about which we have many a good laugh now and then, when we think how scared we were when …

 

Ah, well, I'll tell you about that next month.

 

Yours Fair and Square

 

ZR1Randy