I'm cheating, big time...

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

...Because I've already posted this as part of a longer story which some of you have read at dueSlash.

But it started out as a short-short, complete in itself, and it seemed to fit the challenge, so I am shamelessly reprinting it here while I think of something original to write. Please don't hang me in effigy.

And even more shamelessly, the whole thing is at:
http://www.dueslash.com/archive/1090.html (Thanks for asking, theodosia!)
Let's call this



GHOST IN THE MACHINE


Sometimes I think the back seat still smells like her.

Usually it's a hot night, but not so hot that I try to crank up what's left of the air conditioning. They made great cars in the late sixties, but some parts just don't hold up so good, no matter how long you spend under the hood, how much money you sink into it. So the a/c's pretty shot; I mean, the car's thirty years old, what do you expect? Some things weren't meant to be replaced, anyway.

Anyway, if it's hot but not too hot out, and the sky is clear, and especially if the moon's up, then instead of listening to the a/c whine I just roll down all the windows. And then I drive, fast. I take the shore road and there's not too much traffic and I can really sail, maybe catch a breeze off the lake if I'm lucky. Times like those, nights like these, blasting the Sex Pistols or The Clash on the tape deck -- NOT original equipment, but no way I'm driving with just an AM radio -- it could be now or it could be 1979, for all I can tell the difference. The night still feels the same. Still smells the same, funky Lake Michigan, gas fumes, maybe even a clean wind coming down from Canada. And sex. Yeah, the smell of sex coming from the back seat, where we were doing it because we couldn't go to her house or mine.

I must have cleaned those seats a hundred times, or, when I'd think ahead, covered them with some blanket or other to keep stains off the leather, so I know there's no way I can really smell anything. It was too long ago, too damn long ago. I know it's some trick of my mind, or something else that makes me think I smell Stella in the car.

But she's THERE, sometimes, all the same. In the back seat. In the mirror, looking at me with her big pale eyes, mocking me, but not in a bad way, in a way that says we're sharing something, a secret that only we know, about what only we do, here in the car. Together. Private stuff. Our stuff. And I smell her, smell us.

And then the wind will shift, or the traffic jams up, or there's a call on the radio, or the song ends and just like that it's now, not twenty years ago, over, she's gone.

And then I realize it's hot, and the a/c sucks, and I really should do something about it one of these days. Get a whole new system, maybe.

But I can't help thinking some things weren't meant to be replaced.

Comments

[the-star-fish.livejournal.com]

::whimper::

Sigh. Now *I'm* getting nostalgic...

(I liked this, btw...)

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Go ahead, indulge. And thank you.

[theodosia.livejournal.com]

Liked it! You should post a link to the longer piece for those of us with very little memory who can't remember which it belongs to....

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Thank you! And thanks for the suggestion. It's been edited.

[theodosia.livejournal.com]

It's a particularly good link to read on what is the first actually hot day of summer here! (To be accurate to the experience of the story, I ought to go and read the appropriate sections in the AC or unAC sections of the house....)

[mergatrude.livejournal.com]

Oh, I recognised this straight away because I love it so much! Just really captures that nostalgia - looking back over my summers past, tooling round in a 61 Falcon with Alice Cooper singing "Welcome to my nightmare". Sigh.

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

What do you suppose it means that I used to tool around in a 1964 Corvair singing "Don't Fear the Reaper?"
Thanks for your comments~!

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Now, see, "Phantom Pain" is a much better title. Shoulda asked you first.

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

I call shotgun!
Er...guess that doesn't apply....

[akite.livejournal.com]

Love this bit, love the whole enchilda too. Had to follow the link and read it all again. ::g::

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Thanks, hon. I admit I feel a bit cheesy about posting it.

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

I admit I feel a bit cheesy about posting it.

*Don't*. It's *so* worth bringing back for another look.

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Bowing gratefully in direction of my beta.

[jenboo.livejournal.com]

ahhhh...old cars are the best! The ghosts can be wonderful and poignant and you've really captured that. It's like time travel in more ways than one.

But I can't help thinking some things weren't meant to be replaced.

Maybe not, but he could make some new memories...with Ben. :o)

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Maybe not, but he could make some new memories...with Ben.

And so he shall. Thanks!

[imkalena.livejournal.com]

I'm extremely fond of the "Ghost In The Machine" title. It's perfect. And you already know how much I liked the story.:-)

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

::blush:: Yes, I do, thank you kindly.
BTW, what is the title of the book you snagged your icon from?

[rowanfairchild.livejournal.com]

Well, you know I loved this the first time around. I'm not gonna call you for cheating! *g*

[shayheyred.livejournal.com]

Thanks. You know I hate to be caught cheating.