A black Chevy and a white dress

Part I: The Black Chevrolet Camaro

His line manager quoted once, 'I won't call you a workaholic because that word does not serve justice to your addiction to work.'

That line pretty much summarised what he had done in the last few years. First in, last out – man, he was very seriously addicted to work. No party, no rest, no alcohol, well, almost no life outside of work. Neither anyone knew how he was before nor did he show any signs of that other life.

Out of the blue on a bright day, he called in late to office. When he walked into the office a couple of hours late than usual, his face was unusually lit with a bright smile – a sign of accomplishment. And, when he was about to leave for the day in the evening - that too before anyone else, everyone's curiosity was kindled.

'Looks like someone's finally got a life', giggled the bespectacled lady in the third cabin from his.

He wished the security guard a good evening and jogged – well, almost ran to the parking lot. He felt like he had just been unnerved by a shot of Sambuca.

If someone had stopped him on the way, to quench their curiosity, then they would have come to know about the secret - the secret behind his sudden burst of enthusiasm. If they had followed him along to the parking lot, they would have met her - the beauty who he had fallen head over heels for, with an unknown measure of awe.

He stood for a second and looked at her face to face. She was stunning in black – a gorgeous sight! No wonder he had fallen in love with her at first sight – who wouldn't?

She stood a few feet away from him - his new found love. If she had been human, Cleopatra would have been the reference for comparison. Since she was a car, there were no words in stock. His very own Chevrolet Camaro in royal black. Her beauty and radiance would have beaten Cleopatra hands down. And, the love he had for his Chevrolet Camaro was a lot more than what Antony had for Cleopatra.

He had booked his Chevy Camaro a long time back and had been eagerly waiting like a child. His was the first to be delivered by the dealer. He had seen a real Chevy Camaro only once before other than the one from the Transformers movie. And, that too it was a Camaro in white. His Chevy Camaro, in black, was beyond any means, a stunner of a car. The moment he touched the car for the first time, he knew that the Chevy was going to be more than just a car.

The interior of a Chevrolet Camaro was – you could use the term 'State of the art'. The authentic leather, the temperature control to the last degree, the comfort on the sexy steering wheel, the stylish gears that slid with ease, the BOSE surround sound system, the latest GPS for a pin point location, the anti theft finger print scanners, the much talked about voice recognition – you could just go on and on and on. He wished his journey would never end every time he got into his Chevy Camaro.

He loved driving his Chevy. He was tempted many a times to just stand on top of his Camaro with his arms wide open and shout 'I am the king of the world' – just like Leo did in Titanic. He didn’t like it when someone referred to his car as 'it'. He would correct them to say 'her'. That was how he treated it, oops, treated her - the love of his life, his black Chevrolet Camaro.

He was sometimes asked if anything or anyone – a real person for that matter, had come so close to his life lately. That was a simple question with a very simple 'No' as the answer. If the question was a little farfetched, changing the 'lately' to 'ever', then that would have turned into a slightly more complicated question.

If the question had been 'had anyone come close to his life ever before?’, then his answer would have been a thoughtful 'yes'.

Yes, there had been someone in the past - the past which stayed almost forgotten, the past which he wanted to stay forgotten.

There was a girl who he had been deeply in love with. She was a lovely girl with bright blue eyes, beautiful curly hair and a fairy tale name. She loved white – the serene colour of peace. Gorgeous as she was adorable. Smart as she was sweet. She was William Shakespeare's Portia, George Eliot's Eppie, Jane Austen’s Eliza and – well, the list would be never ending. Every other great literary work seemed to have a beautiful leading lady just like her. It was love at first sight then too and a poetic one nevertheless.

It was a rainy day. She was dressed in white and was waiting at a bus stop with a bright red umbrella. She was playing like a little child with the water dazzling on the glass. Along he came cursing the rain till that moment. When he saw her, he realised that the rain was a blessing in disguise. The Mini Cooper that he owned back then came to a slow stop near her. He saved her from the storm and dropped her home. He didn't even take her name but she took his heart along.

After a series of deliberately accidental meetings, things took a positive turn. She reciprocated his love after almost a year. After that years vanished like minutes. They took life as it came with unending episodes of happiness. Even their arguments were sweet and romantic. Their story of love would have captured a place among the greats of Allie - Noah, Anna - William and Jessie - Karthik. And, things went towards a 'happily ever after' fairy tale ending. All was well until that fateful day.

He was the one who always drove – no matter where and no matter when. But that day was different. They had had an argument in the morning. There was an awkward silence for over an hour and then she drove away in his car – probably to the church where she usually went to calm down. But, little did he know that she was never going to come back to him – not alive at least. It had snowed the previous night and a truck on the opposite lane had lost control, slid across the signal and rammed into the driver's side of the Mini. She came back in a coffin, dressed in beautiful white.

For over a year, he kept punishing himself for whatever had happened. If he had not argued with her, if he had not let her drive alone, if he had not waited but apologised. Only if... There were a lot of things that he could have done. But, he hadn't and she had left him forever taking with her all the happiness she had given him.

The days that followed her demise were inexplicable. He could not comprehend her death and believed that she was alive. Sometimes she smiled at him when he drove past bus stops. Sometimes she whispered in his ears when he was asleep. He saw her in the church, he saw her in the garden, he saw her in almost every place they had spent their time together.

The thought that he could have done a lot to have avoided the tragedy and the thought that he was not able to save his girl was sculpted into his mind. He was slowly going insane and he had turned to drugs and alcohol as a remedy.

It took him three long years to get over the addiction. And it took even more time to rehabilitate and get to where he had gotten now. He did not want to go back to his past. He just wanted it to stay forgotten, for his own good. He was a new man now and just as he had gotten a grip over his life, he had fallen in love with his Chevy Camaro.

He loved his time driving to office every morning. He loved his time driving home every evening. He loved the time he drove to anywhere at all. He even loved the time he waited in his Chevy for the traffic lights to turn green. This love story was beyond words too.

Part II: The rainy night

He was working late on that rainy august day. It was close to eight PM but the sun had just begun to set and it was pretty bright. A beautiful rainbow had formed fully on the eastern sky – it looked very beautiful indeed.

'It’s time to wrap up for the day', insisted his colleague and he obliged. He jumped into his Camaro who roared to life and they were on their way home.

The glittering road, the splashing water and the extra drift at the sharp corners, he loved it more than ever. He had an absolute control over his driving. His Camaro did as he told her to - Stop where he wanted her to stop, turn where he wanted her to turn, drift to the exact position where he wanted her to drift to. If the drift had to be six and a half feet, his Chevy would do exactly that - nothing more, nothing less. Even in the most drastic conditions his driving was perfect to the ‘T’.

The sun had almost set with its golden rays turning to a beautiful orange. It would have been a few minutes since he had started and he came towards a deserted signal just before the Motorway. As he inched closer to the signal, the lights turned green. It brought a smile to his lips. He drove faster and was about a few hundred metres away from the last of the bus stops on the road. As he came closer, he saw a lonely figure waiting in the bus stop.

He took his foot of the gas pedal and his Chevy slowed down. The image of the person standing in the bus stop slowly became clear in the rain. It was a girl in a white dress standing with a red umbrella. A lot of memories crossed his mind but he had learnt enough to brush them away. He stopped his Chevy Camaro close to the bus stop. He lowered the glass of the passenger window just enough to talk to the girl.

The girl appeared to be totally drenched in the rain. Her skin was pale obviously due to the chillness. Her eyes were half closed as if she was going to fall asleep in the next few minutes. She wore no jewels but looked radiant. The fingers holding the umbrella was slightly trembling. She had a weird but beautiful dragon tattoo on her shoulder which crept up to the middle of her neck.

He waited for a couple of seconds for her to lift her face up to see him. But she stood there as if she didn't even know that he was there.

'Excuse me?', he said in a normal tone. She did not react which made him think that he was not loud enough.

'Excuse me?', he said in a louder voice hoping she would hear. But, the response remained the same.

The next moment a bright lighting struck in the direction behind him. For a second it was so bright like standing in the sun at noon. The thunder that followed a few seconds later was so loud that he could feel the ground below him shake for second. Those few seconds were really frightening. But against all odds, the girl did not even wince.

'What on earth is wrong with this woman?', he whispered to himself.

As he prepared himself to ask the girl if she wanted a ride home, he noticed in the rear view mirror that a bus was approaching from far behind. He hesitated for a second and decided that it would be better for him to leave the girl at peace. After all she was in the bus stop and the bus would be there in the next few seconds.

He shifted into gear and moved away. He kept checking the mirror. As he took the left turn to the motorway, he saw that the bus had reached the bus stop but the girl was not to be seen anywhere.

For the next couple of miles, his thoughts kept going back to the girl he saw in the bus stop. He felt nervous about the similarities of the events in the past - The bus stop on a rainy day, the girl in a white dress and the red umbrella. He could not keep the girl who he loved out of his mind. How much ever he tried, her memories kept returning back again and again. His nightmares were returning, he thought. He went into a quasi stable state as if he was hypnotised.

A sudden loud horn brought his wavering thoughts back to reality. The first thing he noticed was a pair of bright lights approaching him at a fast pace. He got back to his senses just in time to steer his Chevy out of the way of the bright lights which belonged to a 20 tonne truck. Just as the truck went past he realised how far he had gone into the opposite lane.

He took a deep breath to control his nervousness and continued his drive up the motorway. He had to forget everything and focus on his driving. At the current speed and being in the deserted motorway, he would reach home in the next forty minutes. He took slow but steady breaths and gripped the steering wheel harder to get things under control. And then, it happened.

He approached a roundabout – the last one for the day. After this round about it was going to be just a straight road up hill. He would have to take the second exit. He crossed first exit and with the usual ease reached the second. Just as he was going to straighten his steering wheel to guide his Chevy into the second exit, the steering wheel resisted to turn. The car just kept taking the curve. He pulled the steering wheel hard but it did not budge for the next few seconds. Not until they were closer to the third and final exit.

Just as the Chevy reached the third exit, steering wheel came to life and he guided his car into the exit and on to the main road. As he sped away into the road he had not much used in the past, he was trying to comprehend what just happened. How did it happen? How and why did the steering wheel act as if it was locked on the curve?

He slowed down and came to a halt on the hard shoulder on the left. He just sat there for a few minutes wondering if everything was alright. He swirled the steering wheel all the way in both the directions. There was not even a slight hinge in the movement. It was as perfect and smooth as ever.

'What has gotten into you?', he asked his Chevy. Or, was he imagining something?

He stepped on the gas a minute later and was off in the direction which was totally new to him. He had to get around to the other side of the road somehow, go all the way back to the roundabout and take the usual motor way. He hoped he could take the turn at the earliest.

He drove on. Traffic was nonexistent and there were no speed cameras in sight. He gave it all to his Chevy Camaro and she roared to life like a lioness chasing her prey. The speed hit 115 mph. Still, he could not see any speed cameras, traffic or an opportunity to turn around to the opposite lanes.

Finally, a traffic signal appeared in sight at around two hundred metres dead straight ahead.

'Time to slow down', he told himself.

He took his foot off the gas pedal and waited for a second. Something was strange – very strange. The digital speed dial still read 115 mph. After a couple of seconds it was still on 115 mph. The car was closer to the traffic signal now. He could see at least four more cars waiting at the signal.

After four seconds, the speed was no more 115 mph - it read 117 mph. And a second later it was 119 mph. The speed was fast increasing.

Blood drained from his face. His heart was beating at the rate of 120 beat per minute. The veins in his hands were pumped up and protruding through his skin. His grip on the steering wheel was immense that he could feel it crumble under his grip. His eyes had turned red under pressure.

He slammed the brake pedal all the way down to the floor of the car. He slammed it again and again but there was not even a slightest sign of the car slowing down. It was still gaining speed. 125 mph read the dial and still gaining. He tried his last resort, the hand brake - without even giving a thought about what could happen at that speed. But, it appeared to be jammed and he was not able to pull it up.

The signal was just within reach and the cars waiting for the signals were just a few yards away. He was definitely going to crash into the cars in front. He knew that it was going to be the end of it. At the speed he was travelling, survival was not even a question. He lost hope and closed his eyes.

He shouted at the top of his voice 'OH GOD!!!'

When someone knew that their time was fast approaching, and all they had to do was just wait for it, minutes were like years. For him, those few seconds were like millenniums. He waited and waited for his beautiful black Chevy Camaro to crash into the car in front and to take him along with her forever. He waited and waited. But the moment never came. He slowly opened his eyes.

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