Here's an excerpt from a manuscript I'm writing titled, Old Boyz. It's about two old guys who decide they want to join a car club for young people. I'm not sure If I should publish it or not. I'd appreciate it if readers would let me know. My author name is D. W. Collins.
CHAPTER 1
Fred wants that ’32 Ford bad. He’s considering hocking his wife Marcy for it. He’s sure Teddy will go for it, especially after he overheard Teresa say Teddy had the hots for her. His best buddy Cliff is out to buy a car today, too, and Fred is hell-bent to one-up him.
“Honey, you will do fine with Teddy. He’s got a nice retirement stashed away, and we can barbecue still since we’ll be neighbors.”
Marcy’s arms are crossed. “You think you’re being funny, but you’re not. That car is ugly. If you do buy it, it’s covered at all times. At least when I’m home.”
“Oh, dear.”
Teddy strolls from his kitchen with three Schlitz beers. He hands Fred and Marcy one each.
“You really know my soft spot, Teddy,” Fred says, a content smile across his face.
“Thanks, Ted. Where’s Teresa today?” Marcy asks.
“Oh, out and about, I guess. It’s Saturday, so I don’t really know.”
Fred pumps his eyebrows at Marcy who gives him a mad stare. He thinks he’s stretched his luck enough with the sarcasm. Back to the business at hand. “Well, what are we lookin’ at?”
“What are we willing to pay?”
Fred bends sideways at his waist, his suspenders buckling as he dips, getting a good look at the Ford around his wife. He winces as he straightens again. “With the rust and all the work needed, how about three?”
Teddy elevates his eyebrows. “Three, Huh? Three is a good kicker, but what else ya got?”
“You suggesting a trade, my good friend?”
“Possibly. Watcha got?”
Fred squints at Marcy, and she rolls her eyes. “Tell you what. Since we go way back, I’ll give you Old Blue and fifteen hundred for her.”
Teddy scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Old Blue, huh?”
“You always liked her.”
Teddy grins ear-to-ear. “Eighteen and Old Blue and you got yourself a deal.”
Fred nods and nods, then stretches a sly smile wide. He shoots out his hand. “Sixteen and both are yours.”
Teddy sighs, not happy with the offer.
“Yeah? We have a deal?” Fred presses, wiggling his fingers fast on his extended hand.
After it appears Fred will not stop shaking his hand at him, Teddy concedes defeat. “All right. It’s a deal!”
Their hands meet and shake. Fred hands Ted a sealed envelope. “$1600. It’s all there.”
Teddy laughs, shaking his head. “Great! Bring Old Blue by, and you can come back later tonight and pick the Ford up if you want.”
Marcy is impatient. “Very good, dear. Can we go now?”
“I need need a bill of sale, honey.”
“Yeah, you guys come inside. Have another beer, and I’ll write one up.”
CHAPTER 2
The sun is almost down when Fred turns on Newberry Street. Cliff is nearly done with the mowing when he peeks up and sees the rusty bucket emerge over the hill. He raises a hand to cover the sun. “That ain’t him, is it?” he mumbles.
Successive honks disturb the neighborhood.
“Yep. That’s him all right.”
He sighs. “He’s gonna be in for one helluva surprise.”
Fred and his new, old 1932 Ford bucket roadster turns a u-ey, and parks in front of Cliff’s house. Cliff dips his knees to see his best friend through the passenger window.
“Well, hey there!” Fred says from the driver seat.
“Nice bucket o’ bolts you got there, Fred.”
“Ah, you’re just jealous. A little elbow grease and some paint, and the fellas are gonna swoon.”
“Not bad. Not bad. ’32?”
“Yep!”
Fred opens the door and steps out. He pats his new ride on the front tire as he rounds the radiator. He steps up to the sidewalk, then puts a hand on Cliff’s front yard fence. “She’s a beaut, eh?”
“What’d Marcy say?” Cliff says with a grin, holding the lawnmower by the handle.
“Oh, you know her. She doesn’t like competition. She’ll come around once I get her all fixed up.”
“Let me put my mower away, and we’ll ring her out.”
THREE TRIES and Cliff manages to get the passenger door to stay shut. “Well, fire her up,” he says anxiously
Fred turns a single key, and the V-8 coughs and rumbles into something resembling an idle. It takes pumping of the gas pedal to keep her running.
“Just needs to be let out every once in a while. She’s been sitting for years in Teddy’s backyard. She’s been neglected,” Fred says over the noise.
“I’ll say,” Cliff smirks.
Fred shifts into first and presses the pedal as he eases out the clutch, and the old lady lurches forward. She jerks hard as he shifts into second, but behaves slightly as they drive down Newberry. “Brings me back,” Fred says with a sigh.
“Yeah, me too,” Cliff says absently.
Fred steers onto Aquarius Drive, the car bottoming out and sparking when they smack the gutter of the intersection. “Looks like Teddy lowered it a little too much. I’ll probably add an inch or two.”
Cliff is quiet.
Fred bends his head at him. “Well?”
Cliff turns to him. “I like it. It’s nice.”
“Just nice?”
Cliff just smiles, close-lipped.
Fred looks back out over the road ahead. He looks back at Cliff. “What is that?”
“What?”
Fred jerks his thumb. “That. On your head?”
“A hat.”
“What does it say?”
“Can’t remember.”
Fred leans forward to get a good look. “It says Dope?”
“I guess.”
“Did your grandson buy it for you? Wasn’t your birthday a month ago?”
“No. I bought it.”
“You bought it.”
“I bought it.”
“What’s on the other side of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Turn your head.”
“All right.”
“Is that a leaf?”
“Yeah, it’s a leaf.”
Fred stares out at the road ahead. “A marijuana leaf?”
“I’m pretty sure it is. It might have been.”
“And, you bought that?”
“Yeah. I bought it on the Internet.”
“Everything okay, pal?”
“Just fine, Fred.”
Fred’s tongue is in his cheek. “Huh. Well, I’m hungry. Let’s go get In ‘N’ Out.”
THEY PULL INTO the drive-thru and order the usual double-doubles and chocolate shakes and fries. Fred pays the girl, and they head back onto the street.
“I think she was giving me the eye back there,” Fred says with a shit-eatin-grin.
“The girl at the window?” Cliff says with an eyebrow raised.
“Yep”
“Yeah, I’m sure she was, Fred.”
“So, where’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Don’t play with me, now. Where’s your ride? You said for sure you were gonna buy a new ride. Is it in the garage? You and me, pal. Remember? Once we get our rides, we’ll join the club. That was the deal. I got mine. I even traded Old Blue for her.”
“You traded Old Blue?” Cliff says in disbelief.
Fred nods quickly. “Yeah”
“Well, did you get yours or not?” Fred presses.
“I got it all right.”
Fred grins. “Don’t worry, I won’t laugh.”
“Oh, you might, buddy.”
CHAPTER 3
“Boy, that betty has some slick gams on her,” Fred says as they pass Cliff’s neighbor leaning into the trunk of her car. “Ever made a move on that one?”
Cliff smirks at him. “No, I was thinking about waiting until she graduated high school.”
Fred laughs. “Want to borrow my car?” Fred signals to turn, but it doesn’t work. He pulls into Cliff’s driveway. With a turn of the key, the car’s V8 rumbles and spits before it stops.
They get out and walk to the house.
“Where is it?”
“In the garage. Let me get the key. Wait here,” Cliff says excitedly. Cliff comes back out of the house with his ring of keys and says grinning, “Well, let’s check her out.”
“Let me guess, a ’39 Merc?”
“Nope.”
Cliff walks toward his garage. Fred follows.
“A ’42 Studebaker?”
“Not quite.”
“You didn’t get a DeSoto.”
“Sure didn’t.”
“Well, what did you get?”
Cliff sticks his key into the garage door lock. “Something cool.” He jerks up on the door, and it slides up by itself.
Fred squints as if he isn’t wearing his glasses. He is.
“Pal, they won’t let us in the club with that.”
“They might let us in a club. Just not the one you’re thinking of.”
“What the heck is it?”
“A 2001 Toyota Supra.”
“It’s Japanese?”
“Yeah, it’s Japanese. It’s a good car. Fast, too.”
“What’s it run under the hood?”
“A three-liter straight-six”
“A six-banger?”
“Yep, and I plan on boltin’ on a blower. You can do that. Maybe some neon lighting underneath. What do you think?”
Fred stands puzzled. His pulls forward on his suspenders, looking around, searching for the right words. “I see you’ve been smoking that funny stuff, haven’t ya. Never thought you would. The war getting’ to ya?”
“No, no.” Cliff shrugs innocently. “I’m just trying to find my youth. Maybe you should, too.”
“In that?”
Cliff rolls his eyes and sighs. “Let’s go for a ride, and move that relic out of my driveway.”
CLIFF TURNS THE KEY, and the three-hundred-and-twenty horsepower Supra fires right up. It idles smooth as silk.
“Nice and plastic,” Fred says as he rubs the dash.
“Saves on weight. Good thing with you there, Dumbo.”
He backs out of the garage into the moonlit night. The car hits the street gracefully, and Cliff cranks the wheel to straighten the car down the lane.
“Careful not to turn too hard, that steering wheel might go tumbling out the window,” Fred says with a short, high-pitched giggle.
“Funny.”
Cliff slams the gas pedal, and the car’s tires spin, propelling the Japanese car down the street when they gain grip. Fred presses back into his seat, his eyes wide open holding his newsboy cap on with both hands as the homes in the neighborhood streak by.
“Uh, slow it down there, Cliff. That’s fast enough. I get it.”
Cliff cranks the wheel, and the car fishtails down Aquarius Drive. He accelerates with a big grin on his face. “Let’s hear some music.” He taps the power button. The thumps of the hip hop music shake the car. Fred turns to him and gives him a bewildered look.
They slow before turning onto Willwood Lane. Cliff makes the turn and cranks the volume even more and slams the gas pedal again. The Supra is moving well over the speed limit.
Fred covers his ears. “What the heck is a G thing?”
Cliff shrugs and shouts over the music, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Can you turn it down and slow it down?” Fred shouts.
Cliff grins, “Sure, Fred.” He slows the Supra to a legal speed before stopping at the next light. The intersection at Willwood and Hancock is busy on a Saturday night.
“Well, what do you think, Fred?”
“What do I think? I think I’m gonna have a heart attack. That’s what I think.”
Cliff laughs at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” Fred asks.
“Well, it came about all of a sudden.”
“What happened to the Merc?”
Cliff shrugs. “Sorry, Fred. I shoulda told you first.”
Three young females, all dressed up, in a small BMW pull next to them on Fred’s side. They’re preoccupied with themselves when Cliff turns up the volume.
“Hey, turn it up more. Woo hoo!” the driver says, her long permed red hair flowing in the wind through her window.
Cliff cranks the music, and the girls dance in their seats and sing along to Dr. Dre’s, Nuthin’ But a “G” Thang.
Fred is amazed to see the effect on the girls from the thumpin’ beats coming from behind the back seat of the Toyota. He looks at Cliff with a shit-eatin’ grin again and turns back to the girls.
“So, what are you ladies doin’ tonight?” Fred shouts at them.
The girls giggle. The driver says, “Uh, we’re going to a concert.”
“Which one?”
“Katy Perry”
“Oh, she sure is good,” Fred says.
“Uh, huh. You guys going?” she asks suspiciously.
“No, maybe next week. Why don’t you share your phone numbers and we’ll meet up after.”
“I don’t just give my number out to any old guy,” the driver says. The girls giggle. “But, you can look me up on Facebook if you want. You know what Facebook is, right?”
Fred turns to Cliff looking confused. He turns back. “Yep. Oh, I sure do.”
“Look me up, then. Dandy Mandy.”
The light goes green and the girls speed off. “Bye,” they shout.
Fred is beside himself. “Dandy Mandy! You gotta teach me how to use Facebook, Cliff!”
“Someone needs to teach me first. Not sure your wife will like that.”
“Hey, I’m just teasin’. You know me.” Fred scratches his chin. He looks at Cliff with a childish grin. “That was fun. I’ll give you that.”
CHAPTER 4
Juliet makes an appearance in a fur coat, black tank top, and zebra-striped pants. He spreads the beads that hang from his door frame, then gallops prissily through all diva-like. He checks his fake, painted nails, fearing he may have chipped one on the glass jewels that is his bedroom door.
“Damn – all – to – hell,” he says wiggling upright as he shakes his head. “Oh, no I didn’t. Did I just de-bling myself?”
“Mercy, me. I’ll take care of that, Jules. You just bring them pretty little digits over here now, ya hear? I’ll paint ya up good, like Warhol hisself was here,” Monique says with his legs crossed from the Lazy Boy.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Juliet says.
Monique blushes. The suited men smirk uncomfortably on the fuzzy black and white checkered sofa. The man closest to Monique, Mr. Fitzgerald, clears his throat.
“Oh, where in heavens is my manners? Men, this is Juliet. Juliet, this is … men.”
Juliet waves with a hand so loosely as if it were ready to fling off his wrist. “Hello there.”
“These men are here on business, Juliet,” Monique says. “Business men,” she adds with a wink.
“Oh, right. I did see that on my schedule.” Juliet gestures to the chair. “May I, Mo?”
Monique stands. “I guess I’ll powder up in the powder room.”
“Ta ta!” Juliet sits in the Lazy Boy and crosses his legs. “Well, what can I do for you … men?”
Mr. Fitzgerald clears his throat again. “Well, Mr. Hockenfield, I thank you for seeing us today.”
“Do I look like a mister, mister? Call me Juliet … please.”
“Juliet. I apologize.”
Juliet nods and smiles close-lipped.
“We think you are just the man … uh … the person to move our product. With your reach and your syndicate, we see a partnership to be both beneficial to our organization and yours.”
“So formal, you,” Juliet says flirtingly.
“Yes, and we already have a shipment ready, so we are eager to get started,” he says quickly. He waves urgently to his partners who hand down a briefcase that he sets it in his lap.
Juliet uncrosses his legs and leans forward. Mr. Fitzgerald opens it. It’s full of bundled hundred dollar bills.
Juliet claps his hands. “Ooh! Pretty money!” He reaches toward the open case. “May I?”
The man nods nervously.
Juliet removes a bundle and fans his face with it. “It’s hot in here all of a sudden. Ooh, dear.”
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
Juliet perks up. “Have you ever known a lady to turn down a bundle of Benjamins? Of course it’s a yes, silly.”
Mr. Fitzgerald turns and nods to his smiling partners, then turns back to Juliet. “Oh, we are happy to hear that. Very happy, indeed.”
Juliet extends his arm, with his hand bent toward the floor. Fitzgerald smiles and shakes it quickly.
Juliet shakes her head. “That ain’t the way to treat a lady,” he says and purses his lips, while wiggling his hand.
Mr. Fitzgerald looks horrified. He turns to his partners who shrug and grin. He slowly turns back to Juliet. He gulps before he slides forward off the edge of the sofa. He takes Juliet’s hand and pulls it slowly toward his lips with his eyes closed.
Juliet smiles wide, anticipating the kiss. Before Fitzgerald’s lips reach his hand, he breaks out in laughter. “I’m just foolin’.”
Fitzgerald sits back and wipes the sweat from his forehead with his hankerchief. His partners laugh and nudge each other in the shoulder.
“Funny. Real funny,” he says, red-faced.
Juliet laughs again then shouts, “Oh, Monique, I got something fo’ you. Something fo’ you to put away nice and safe, ya hear!”
CHAPTER 5
Surprisingly, Marcy had been the first into the bathroom this morning. And, even more surprising, Fred was on the computer when she came into the kitchen wrapped in her towel. She watched him from behind for a while before returned to their bedroom.
She had her heels on when she came back, startling her husband when they clacked the hard tile floor. “What are you doing, dear? Is that Facebook?”
“Oh - uh - yeah. I thought I would catch up with some of the fellas I knew.”
“I thought you said websites were for kids.”
Fred just smiles and raises his eyebrows. He turns back to the screen.
“Well, I’ll leave you alone now.”
The clacking of heels indicates she left the room. Fred types ‘japanese cars’ in a box that says search in his browser. He hits the button with the magnifying glass and waits. The results come up, and he clicks Images at the top.
“Wow,” he says as the pictures populate the screen. “Didn’t know I could do this.”
He types ‘fast japanese cars’, and images of smoking tires and colorful Toyotas and Hondas in car shows with Asian models in skimpy outfits. “Now you’re talkin’, Fred.”
He peeks past his shoulder, not sure if Marcy went to her yard sales with Janet and her lady friends yet. “Anything for breakfast, dear?” No sound but the hum of Marcy’s laptop. “Dear? You wouldn’t let an old man starve would you?”
He turns eagerly back to the screen. “She’s gone!” He drums his fingers along the edge of the keyboard. He types fast japanese car clubs in bakersfield. The results come up, and he clicks on Web. Car clubs of various age and vehicle requirements appear. One link catches his eye. His eyes are wide, and he clicks. The website’s content fizzles into the screen magically as if a genie has granted a wish. Fred reads the alert at the top of the screen in bold:
The Sexy Bangers meet ever Friday and Saturday night and Sunday morning at Rowland Park. Accepting new members. Japanese makes only!
“Wow! Now, that’s the ticket!” Fred says to himself. “Well, Marcy doesn’t like the Ford, I guess. And, I don’t want to disappoint her.” He eagerly searches: fast japanese cars for sale in Bakersfield. He knows right away when he sees it: Suki.
CHAPTER 6
Cliff is torn between blue and green as he studies the packages in the aisle. He remembers the girls at the intersection. “Blue is cool, but green would be a real attention-getter,” he thinks.
“Shopping for your grandson there?” the parts store worker, Tim, asks. “Either one of those neon packages are good, but I got something better over here.” Tim bends his neck toward a display by the counter.
“All right. Show me!” Cliff says. Tim leads, Cliff follows.
“This package is the Blinginator. It covers the underside and inside, and you can even change colors: green, blue, red, pink, yellow and purple. It’ll blink to the music, too, and there’s an app you can download to control it. It’s the latest thing,” Tim explains. “Full one-year warranty.”
“Wow!” Cliff is amazed. “It’s just what I’m looking for!”
“What it’s going in?”
“My ’01 Supra.”
Tim is momentarily dumbfounded. “You giving it to your grandson?”
“No. It’s just for me,” Cliff says with a grin.
Tim chuckles. “Well, okay, then. Do you want me to ring you up?”
Cliff takes the package from the display and studies it. “Is this the best you got?”
“That’s it.”
“All right. I’ll take it!”
Cliff pays for his new light package and emerges from the parts store. Across the street, a silver and blue car with an oversized racing wing is pulled over by the police. The policeman is standing at the driver’s door. The cop walks back towards his patrol car, and Cliff notices the driver wearing a newsboy hat and sparkly shades. He looks closer. “It’s Fred! What’s that he’s driving? Is that a Subaru?”
The patrol car pulls onto the highway, and Fred leans out the window to wave at the cop when he passes. As the cop gets further away, Fred gives the cop the finger through the windshield, yelling something.
“I didn’t think he’d come around,” Cliff says as Fred spins out, then hurries down the road. He chuckles. “I guess I’ll pay him a visit.”
MARCY IS JUST pulling out of the driveway in her Chevy Malibu when Cliff pulls up to the curb. Cliff waves at her, and she gives him the same look he’s seen her give Fred many times. “Uh, oh. Somebody’s in trouble.”
He steps out of his Supra and heads straight for the front door. Fred opens the door wide. “Hey, buddy!” Fred says excitedly. “Have I got something to show you!”
“Let me guess: Subaru?”
“How did you know?”
“Saw you with the cop. I was buying my neon lights at Parts Depot, and there you were,” Cliff says motioning his hand across his body.
“Eh, that peckerhead. He was on power trip and felt like picking on the little guy. They do that, you know.”
Cliff laughs. “Well, is it in the garage?”
“Yeah it is, but I got an idea,” Fred says, a big grin splashed across his face.
** End of exercept **
Please, let me know if you want more of this story, and thanks for reading :)
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