Read Online The Yellow Packard by Ace Collins - Free Book Online Page A

Easter bunny left chocolate eggs. A few might hold stock in bizarre curses, but most logical people saw them for what they were, just twists of fate. And rich folks, the kind with the money to buy a car like this, surely wouldn’t back off because of a couple of accidents. Or would they?
    As the image of Rose flooded his senses, he once more pictured her in his arms, realizing how messed up his priorities were. He was wasting time hoping for something that couldn’t happen rather than celebrating something that already had. But as the old Chevy wouldn’t even start, leaving to visit his wife and child wasn’t much of an option either. So even if he walked back home, he’d be stuck at the house until he could find someone to give him a lift to Danville. That reality sunk his spirits to an even lower level. Suddenly all the faith he had in himself evaporated like the dew on a hot August morning. Just like the St. Louis Browns, he was a loser. Always had been, probably always would be, too. And like millions of others he was completely at the mercy of things out of his control. How many people in this world had a new daughter and no way to even go see her? Yet as bad as that thought was, there was something even worse.
    If he didn’t have a car to visit Carole and Rose in the hospital, then he also didn’t have a way to bring them home in two days. And even if someone loaned a vehicle to him for that trip, how could he get to work? Maybe instead of hanging around the sale, he needed to be searching the newspapers for a place to live in Danville. If they lived in the city, he could ride the bus to work and wouldn’t need a car at all. That would be a crushing blow to his ego, but maybe it was the smart thing to do. It would save money, and with a new mouth to feed and all the things Rose was going to need over the next few months and years, he really needed to hang on to what little savings they had.
    Thoughts of the great responsibilities of being a father tore at him like a winter snowstorm, leaving him spiritually battered and cold. Though he tried to keep them at bay, question after question pushed into his mind, and he had answers for none of them. Overcome by thoughts of his own inadequacy, he was suddenly filled with nervous energy that drove him to start walking. But a mind that wouldn’t stop worrying only took him on a trip that lasted no more than a few steps.
    Overwhelmed, George looked back toward the car. A few minutes ago it was all he thought he needed to make his life perfect. Now he realized he needed so much more. The Packard had style, but style couldn’t put food on the table or help him raise his kid. So this was a pipe dream he had no business dreaming. It was time to get back to reality. Yet even as logic urged him to leave the barn and go back to his house, to pick up the afternoon paper and study the want ads for homes or apartments in the city, the car still begged him to embrace it. It called out to him, demanding his attention. In a very real sense, it had gotten so far inside him that he couldn’t walk away from it. Samson had his Delilah and George had this Packard, and that drove him to shove his hands into his pockets and start walking back and forth again.
    After thirty minutes of pacing, his exhausted legs overruled his soles, demanding he find a place to park his body. With no chairs in the vicinity, George opted to once again sit behind the Packard’s big steering wheel. Perhaps it was fatigue, the weight of his worries, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t bothered to eat lunch, but for whatever reason, the plush bench seat had a profound effect on the new father. Within seconds of closing the yellow car’s heavy door, he fell asleep.
    Because all the action was at the auction podium, it was likely no one would have ever noticed George’s unplanned nap if he had just remained in an upright position, which he did for fifteen minutes. Yet, as is human nature, when the mind is