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    Valkyrie
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Christmas Confidential - 4. Max, Dylan, and Fungus

Max, Dylan, and Fungus

By Valkyrie

Max cursed and put his right blinker and hazard lights on, although it was hard to tell since every light on the console was lit up. Not that he needed the indicators to tell him something was wrong with the smoking, lurching vehicle. Why did I have to move to the middle lane? Trying to navigate over to the right lane so he could reach the shoulder of the busy highway was proving to be an exercise in futility.

Cars honked and sped around him, not allowing him the time needed to get safely to the side of the highway. Dylan screamed in his car seat, frightened by all the noise and the jerky motion of the car. Max slammed his hand on the steering wheel and shouted as someone almost side-swiped him instead of letting him in. The old car was losing velocity, making his situation extremely dangerous. If he didn’t get over soon, he’d be rear-ended by some impatient asshole paying attention to their phone instead of the road.

He finally decided to take matters into his own hands. If the fuckers weren’t going to give him space, he’d have to make his own. There was about half a car length between the next two cars—if he edged into the lane, the driver would have to let him in.

Max laid on his horn and started to move over. Miraculously, enough space opened up for him to safely move into the right lane. He was finally able to navigate onto the shoulder, ignoring the blaring horns and hand gestures of the other drivers, and ease the broken car to a shaky halt.

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and rested his head on his folded arms on top of the steering wheel. The thudding pulse of his racing heartbeat felt like it was going to tear his eardrums apart. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, trying the relaxation exercise his therapist taught him. The seriousness of his predicament washed over him. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breath came in gulping gasps as his anxiety accelerated.

Dylan’s sustained shrieking pierced through Max’s panic, bringing him back to reality. He inhaled deeply. He had to be strong for Dylan and Lee’s sake. Max turned toward the back seat and made soothing sounds, hoping to calm the howling infant. Dylan’s face was bright red, and he had knocked his Santa hat off his head with his wild, gesticulating arms. The baby’s pacifier was wedged along the side of the car set. Max removed it and placed it in Dylan’s mouth.

The baby latched onto the plastic and started sucking. He looked at Max with wide, bright blue eyes filled with tears and sniffled. One crisis averted. Max pulled the hood release and stepped carefully out of the car. He moved to open the hood, but hissed as he touched the hot metal. Using his gloves like oven mitts, he somehow managed to get the hood up and waved at the steam billowing from the overheated engine.

Fungus had been living on borrowed time for ages, so the breakdown wasn’t a surprise to Max, even if it was an inconvenience. The old Impala had earned its nickname years ago, when Max was still in college. Even back then, it was held together with duct tape and sheer determination. Every time he looked at it, he found another spot rusted through. The plan was for Fungus to get him through college, then he’d buy a new car once he got a decent job.

Unfortunately, there was always something more important taking his money. His job was close to home, so Fungus was perfectly fine to get him there and back again. If the car broke down, then Lee would drop him off on the way to work.

Max sighed and stared at the steaming engine. He knew in his heart this was the end of the line for Fungus. How the fuck was he supposed to get to the city to visit Lee now? He thought back to his college days, when he first met Lee. They were in the same English literature class and had to work together on a class project. Max smiled as he remembered picking Lee up for their first date and the look of horror on his face when Lee first saw his car. You seriously expect me to get into that piece of fungus on wheels? How the hell does it even run?

From that moment on, the car was known as ‘Fungus’, and Lee did all the driving on their dates. They moved in together after graduation, and Max supported Lee while he worked on his doctorate. Sure, things were tight, but they were happy. After Lee graduated, they’d look for a house, buy new cars, and live the future they dreamed of together.

Max snorted. Something always seemed to throw a wrench into the works. Several months ago, Lee developed debilitating migraines. The slightest bit of light or sound sent him into fits of agony. He barricaded himself in their bedroom and wore earplugs and eye coverings, hiding from anything that might trigger a headache. They purchased blackout curtains so the room stayed pitch dark. He had to take a sabbatical from his studies because he fell too far behind.

The doctors had no answers for him. They also had no cure. It was sheer luck Lee happened to qualify for a trial of a new treatment regimen, but it meant he’d have to be an inpatient in a city two hours away. The trial was supposed to last three months, and they were one month in. Max drove up to visit him every weekend. He hated to admit it, but it didn’t seem like whatever they were doing was helping. It’d be just our luck for him to be in the placebo group.

Max returned to the front seat and turned to check on the latest wrench thrown into their lives. Dylan dozed peacefully in his car seat, worn out from his crying fit. The baby had been abandoned by his drug-addicted mother, Max’s sister, and now Max was the baby’s official guardian. Lee hadn’t hesitated when Max told him Dylan’s situation, despite his medical condition. It was one of the reasons Max loved Lee so much.

Max reached for his cell phone to call AAA. He wasn’t sure how he was going to juggle work, fatherhood, a sick partner, and now he had to somehow find a way to pay for a new car. He looked at the sleeping baby and sighed. It would all work out. It had to.

Bright lights blinded him as a car pulled up behind him. Max shielded his eyes with his hand as his heartrate increased. There weren’t any flashing lights, so it wasn’t a cop. He locked the door, just in case whoever it was wasn’t friendly. He had to keep Dylan safe at all costs.

A man wearing a Santa hat stood next to the driver’s side door and smiled. “Are you Max?”

Max cracked the window slightly. “Yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”

“It’s a funny coincidence, but I was on my way to see you when I saw your car stopped on the side of the road. It’s kind of hard to miss with all that duct tape.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure. You were on your way to see me? Sorry, but I don’t recognize you.”

“My name is Gabe and I’m with the local news station. An anonymous benefactor heard about you and wanted to give you a gift. This is as good a place as any to give it to you.”

The headlights from Gabe’s car highlighted his face, making his sleek, ebony hair look like it glowed. He looked at Max serenely, with a slight smile on his face. Peace flooded through Max, quieting his anxiety. Dylan cooed and grinned, reaching his arms toward Gabe. Max opened the car door and sat sideways in his seat.

Gabe handed him a small box wrapped in green foil paper. “Please, open it now.”

“Who is this from?”

“He prefers to remain anonymous, but he likes to help people in need, and said we had to help you when heard your story. Things have been a bit rough lately, haven’t they?”

Max nodded.

“How’s Lee doing?”

“He says he’s feeling better, although sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“And what’s it like having a baby around?”

“It’s taken some getting used to, but I love it. Dylan is a great kid.”

“Open the box.”

Max carefully removed the lid and removed two pieces of paper. His eyes widened when saw what was written on them.

“There’s three thousand dollars there to BuyBuyBaby, so you can get whatever you need to take care of Dylan.”

“I… I don’t know what to say. I mean… thank you, of course, but it hardly seems adequate.” Max’s voice shook.

“There’s one more gift for you.” Gabe held out a smaller box, wrapped in silver paper.

“Oh wow… this is more than enough! Is this for real?”

“Yes, it’s most certainly real. You’ve been doing a lot of driving to visit Lee, but this old car isn’t exactly reliable, is it.”

Max snort-laughed. “That’s the understatement of the year. I think poor ol’ Fungus has finally given up the ghost.” He opened the box and stared at its contents incomprehensibly. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a key. It’s to that vehicle parked behind you. You don’t have to worry about breaking down with Dylan in the car anymore.”

Max opened and closed his mouth in shock. “You can’t be serious. Who on earth would give me these generous things?”

“Someone who cares about you and Lee and Dylan and wants things to be a little bit easier for you all.”

Max wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you. With all my heart, thank you.”

Gabe smiled and nodded. “You are very welcome. Now, let’s get Dylan’s car seat out of here and check out your new ride!”

Max laughed. “Great idea!” He stepped out of the car and opened the door to the back seat, then removed Dylan’s car seat. When he turned around, Gabe was gone.

Do you name your cars? How horrible was the first car you ever owned? My current car, Drogon, is a far cry from the beast I first owned. It didn't last long enough to get a proper name.
Copyright © 2020 Valkyrie, aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

  • Site Administrator
  On 12/18/2020 at 6:01 PM, Parker Owens said:

My cars, regardless of size, age, gravitas, are called “little car.”  This included my first, an enormous 1973 Mercury Monterey, which steered like an aircraft carrier. 

Expand  

:gikkle:  I don't even remember what my first car was.  I just remember it was white and huge, very much like an aircraft carrier as well.  :unsure: 

  • Like 4
  • Site Administrator
  On 12/22/2020 at 5:14 PM, dughlas said:

Of course you would name an old clunker "Fungus". It's seems up until this point things were mushrooming out of control ... and then there was Gabe. I hope Lee finds the treatment he so desparately needs.

Expand  

*groan*  :gikkle:  I hope Lee finds a treatment that works too.  :hug: 

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