Excellent My Name Be Polly... Peach Of The Beach : Peach Of The Beach (five) by rhonnie69 Artwork by willie at FanArtReview.com

Fanning her brow with her hand, Mom got in the car. She sat at the driver's wheel and looked at me. Then without raising her head, she rolled her eyes up to the sky, in a sort of, God help kind of way. "Cross your fingers," she said with a sigh. Then she turned the key. Nothing happened. She tried again. NOTHING. Something told me that I wasn't as worried, as I should have been. Mom tried once more. Nope. No Go. Mom looked at me and squeezed out her smile. "Maybe if you try it, Brittney." "Yes. I'll dare to try." Mom got out. I got in. I turned the key. There came a faint...tick tick tick tick tick... That was all. "Wait," Mom said," I'll jiggle a few things down there in the engine." She jiggled a few things. "Try it now," she called. I tried it. The car didn't start. I jumped out and ran to the front where she stood with her head under the hood's lid. I poked my head in too. Doggy Bag panted patiently at my feet. "How about if we jiggle that thing?" I asked. "I jiggled that already." "What about this?" "Uh huh. I jiggled that too." "Did you jiggle that thing?" "I don't remember." "What about..." "NO!! Don't touch! It's still hot!" "OUCH!! Too late." "Hee hee, Got me too." We were so busy jiggling things and singeing our fingers that we didn't notice the blue pickup truck that was approaching. You can bet your last cookie that Doggy Bag noticed. I knew all of his barks. Especially his, there's something you ought to know barks. This was one of his, heads up! There's somebody coming, barks. I was first, between Mom and myself to see the truck coming. I shaded my eyes with my hand at my brows. "Mom. I see someone coming in a truck." Mom peered eagerly over the top of our car. Lights flashed in her eyes. "I choose to believe that it's a boat. It's our dream boat," she chimed. "Just look at it float." The truck slowed down and stopped right next to us. There was a young girl driving it. She looked about seventeen. Her hair was red...like Doggy Bag's fur,.. but it was lighter in shade. A deep copper tone sun tan made her pudgy face look like a ginger cookie. Tiny red freckles were sprinkled gracefully about her robust cheeks. Her face looked plain, but attractive. It was smeared with a smudgy smutty looking something. In spite of that, her smile was as lively and as bright as a firefly's glow. "Where'd you get that cute little dawg?" She asked. "He's my puppy, Doggy Bag," I replied. "Uncle Brentz got him for me for a B' day gift." "I once had a puppy," she said, "ain't no puppy no more. Great big girlie now. She's the biggest Irish wolfhound you ever laid your eyes upon." "What's her name?" Mom asked. "I call her, Snow White, because that's what color she is. My oh my. I just know she would love Doggy Bag." She squinted her eyes over Mom's shoulder to get a better look at our car with it's hood's lid up. She somehow made herself look like someone who had firm confidence in herself. "Automobile trouble you folks are having I reckon." "For some reason beyond my understanding it just stopped going." Mom replied. "Well now," she replied in a spirited expression. "Got to see what we can do about that. Now ain't we?" It wasn't until she hopped briskly out of her truck that we noticed that she had the same smutty black stuff on her clothes. There was some on her arms and hands too. She wore a dingy T-shirt and shaggy jean shorts that looked like they were at one time full length, but had been cut short with a butter knife. They were cut short right up to her rear pockets. She wore no shoes...but her feet looked clean and her toenails were polished neatly in bright red. "My name be Polly." she announced as she ambled pass us and headed toward our car. "You folks Got names?" Mom and I followed her. "This is Mom," I replied, "Her name is, Noreen. I'm Brittney. We're going to Hunter's Point Naval Shipyard. We're lost. Can you help us?" "Sure thing," she said, "see to your car first. Yes?" Polly was short and stoutly built. She moved herself in a leisurely and lively manner. She seemed to be care free. She was as frolicsome as she could be. "JOLLY POLLY." We liked her right away. Author Notes THIS STORY WILL BE CONTINUED IN, Peach Of The Beach, (six)

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