First Ride by Scott Torborg

I drag my finger slowly along the smooth fiberglass lines of the body, marveling in awe and admiration at merely standing in the presence of such an exemplary piece of automotive engineering. The rear wheel wells bring to mind the shoulders of a wildcat, poised to lunge.
"Who wants to take the first ride?" Chuck questions gleefully. I glance towards my dad, who points back at me. I frown skeptically, but slowly walk over to the passenger side. I start to tremble slightly, intimidated by the aggressive machine. However, I manage to pass the test of agility as I crawl into the cockpit, carefully avoiding the relatively massive fire extinguisher. The door slams shut with a loud clang. Chuck works his way into his harness, then reaches forward to turn the key in the ignition. Suddenly the garage becomes alive with the wondrous thunder of an Ford V8 let loose. He clicks the car into gear, and we slowly roll down the driveway to the main road. After a short jaunt around the block to warm up the roadster, we set off on a twisty mountain road, all the while experiencing turns far beyond the limits of any ordinary metal beast. We slow to a halt at a stop sign. The roads sit empty, devoid of any other cars. Suddenly I snap back against the seat as we rocket forward. Mere moments later, the acceleration vanishes, flinging me tight against the belts as the tach nears 7000 and the driver shifts. A split second later, the acceleration returns, and the jet catapults off again. Only moments after this Chuck shifts into third. This time, however, I prepare and anticipate the sudden break in acceleration. Then I catch a glimpse of a sign as it flashes by. "45" A quick glance reveals the speedometer crossing 90, 95. Rows and rows of palm trees fly by like stars in an imaginary "hyperspace." I hear a vague noise camouflaged beneath the blaring roar of the exhaust sidepipes. I listen, confused for a moment, then realize Chuck is talking. I turn and yell, "What?" He repeats, "Are you having fun yet?" I quickly nod and shout an enthusiastic, "YEAH!" We pass by a high school, having slowed down slightly. Despite the holiday, a group of students grins madly and waves, witnessing the rare juxtaposition of a dove among crows- Fords, Kias, and Chryslers. We return the gesture, and continue to blaze past block after block of houses until finally drifting to a stop. I climb out, ears still ringing. My dad walks over, raises his eyebrows and asks, "cool car?" I casually nod and manage, "Yeah, kinda cool." But the snake is already off again, vanishing quickly into its next delightful roller-coaster ride into the California distance.