The Space Ship

The drive was short. The streetlights buzzed overhead. Frankie pulled up to the curb. The house was quiet. A small bungalow with peeling paint.

But the yard was the main attraction.

In the center of the overgrown grass stood the ship. To anyone else, it was a rusted shell of a vintage car propped on cinder blocks, half-buried in ivy. A relic of a forgotten decade.

Frankie stepped out of his vehicle. The air was cool.

Red was waiting on the porch steps. She looked exactly like her avatar. Fiery hair. Thick-rimmed glasses. A dress that looked a little too nice for a Tuesday night.

She walked down the path. Gravel crunched under her boots.

-You made good time, Frankie, she said.

-Warp speed, he replied.

He gestured to the heap of metal and wood on the lawn.

-There she is, Frankie said. Rinky dink looking flying saucer.

He saw a pair of garden shears in the lawn and picked it up, tucking it into his pants.

Red circled the car. She ran a hand over the rusted fender.

-Trust me, Frankie added. She's a beauty..

Red smiled. She looked at him. The game was on.

-Shall we? she asked.

-I give you a light peck on the cheek as we climb aboard, Frankie said, narrating his own action as he leaned in.

-Why, thank you kindly, Captain, she said. It seems your ship isn't the only thing that packs a surprising punch.

They climbed into the hollowed-out chassis. The seats were torn vinyl. The dashboard was a mess of analog dials and switches.

Red settled into the passenger seat. She touched a rusted knob.

-It's mostly mechanical like they used to build in the 50s, Frankie explained.

-Oooh, like something straight out of a classic sci-fi flick,-she said, eyes wide behind her lenses.

Frankie grabbed the gearshift. It stuck. He gripped it harder.

He grabbed the throttled and shoved it.

-And the flying saucer jerks up and off into the sky, he muttered.

The car didn't move. The cinder blocks held firm.

But inside the cabin, the streetlights blurred in their minds.

Red laughed. A sound of pure delight.

-I feel like a real-life Jane Jetson blasting off into outer space.

Frankie looked at her, and took her gently by the hand, squeezing it.

She squeezed back.