Grandpa's Surprise by DragonSkulls
It was a Saturday night, a couple days before my sixteenth birthday,
when Grandpa said, "Come on, boy, I've got a surprise."
Grandma hollered, "You be careful out there," as we were leaving.
"No, I'm going to be uncareful. How's that sound?" He laughed and
blew her a kiss, then we hopped in his beefed up 57 Chevy. My grandpa
was cool, not like your typical, boring grandpas. The engine roared like
thunder as we tore out of the driveway.
"Where are we headed?" I asked.
"I figure we'll get you that car you've been hounding me about for months."
He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm lying. I just said that to crush your dreams."
I laughed. "Of course you did."
It was already ten o'clock and all the dealerships were closed. "So, where
are we gonna buy a car at night?"
"Don't get your panties in a bunch. I have it under control."
We went deep into the back streets of the city. We turned on Harold and
the whole block was filled with cars parked on the side, facing the road.
We parked and got out. Immaculate, power-infused machines rumbled as
we walked past. "See any you like?" Grandpa asked, gesturing.
"Yeah, you're going to buy me one of these. Right."
"Who said anything about buy?"
We reached the main crowd that cheered when this ferocious looking
1975 Mustang came tearing up the road and skidded to a stop in front of us.
Grandpa elbowed me, "How 'bout that one?"
"Sure, Grandpa, I want that one." My sarcasm was clearly evident.
Another car came screeching to a halt shortly after. That's when it dawned on
me what was actually happening. These people were street racing.
The drivers exited their vehicles and Mustang man snatched a huge wad of
cash from the loser's hand.
While high-fiving all his fans and mates, Grandpa blurted out, "My wife drives
faster than that going to her knitting class!"
"You got a huge set there, old man. Talkin' trash here isn't cheap."
"I was hoping not." He pointed to his Chevy and added, "I got five hundred says
you'll cry like a baby next time you're here." He turned to me and winked like
"I don't even start my car for less than two grand."
"Okay, pendejo, if you're so gung-ho and positive, let's just do this..." Grandpa
slapped his car title on the Mustang's hood.
"You seriously want to pink slip this?"
"What, need mommy's permission?"
Both engines revved like earthquakes at the line. The flag dropped.
Coming back over the bridge, the second time, the Mustang pulled ahead.
"Hold on!" Grandpa yelled, flipping the nitrous oxide switch. Everything blurred.
Grandpa hollered, "Yeehaaaa!"
Little Sanchez nearly did cry at the finish line.
When both cars drove up, Grandma knew. "So, how'd it go?"
"Easy peasy, baby." Grandpa pulled her in and gave Grandma a huge smooch.
She turned, pointed at me, winked and said, "Happy birthday, kiddo."
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