The new blue car
Created | Updated Jul 1, 2005
The new blue car
During all of his life, he had never respected things. He slammed doors, he kicked chairs, he scratched the polished surface of the table; one day in anger, he had even thrown a fan against the wardrobe. Nothing was precious to him. He did not much respect persons either. He had no tolerance, no tenderness and very little love for anything or anyone except for himself. He was vain.
One day he bought the car. It was nearly new. It was a lovely metallic blue. It did not have a single scratch on its paint. The inside had been so well cared for by its previous owner that the plastic covers were still in place. Its motor hummed smoothly.
The car was equipped with air-conditioning and thus could be driven through the heat and noise of the city with its windows rolled up. It was the newest car he had ever possessed. He loved that car as he had never loved anything before.
Whenever he had to travel and leave the car with his wife, he instructed her over and over on how to be careful with his car. Whenever he came back and used the car for the first time again, he inevitably found something the matter with it. The brakes did not feel the same, the steering did not feel as stable as before and always he found a little scratch somewhere on its body.
He did not like that his wife had to change the position of the mirror and the driver’s seat. One day, exasperated, his wife told him she could try and put a pillow on the seat so as not to change the position of the rearview mirror. She had meant to be funny, but he ansered seriously that she could move the mirror, but she had to be very careful not to use any force as it might become unglued from the windshield.
Once, when he came back from one os his trips, he complained of all the usual things and his wife sat quietly, trying not to pay attention to him until he said, “I bet you have not even bothered to check the water.” And, “probably you did not even know the car is refrigerated with water!” His wife’s heart gave a secret jump of apprehension and she asked him to show her where the tank was. He made some uncompromising sounds, said he was in a hurry and she forgot about it.
Weeks later, when he had the hood of the car up and was checking the oil, she asked him to show her where the radiator was so she could know where to put the water. He hedged and tried to change the subject, but she insisted until he had to admit that the water was in a sealed tank. She did not even try to argue with him and let this revelation hang in the air.
When he left on a trip again, his wife drove the car home from the supermarket one day, had to break suddenly and sharply because of a speeding car cutting in in front of her, and the car behind her rammed the back of her husband’s beautiful blue car. She felt panic welling up in her. She stopped the car and the woman driver behind her stopped too. They got out and together the two women inspected the back of the blue car. Nothing seemed to be dented or out of place. Both women parted in a friendly way. They had behaved in a civilized manner. They were so relieved they did not find any obvious damage, that they forgot to be thorough.
The wife got back into the car, feeling a weight lifted off her mind. She breathed deeply. If anything had happened to the car, she would never again have a moment of peace. She would have to listen to her husband telling her again and again about the heinous crime she had committed against the shiny blue car and against himself.
When she arrived home, she drove the car into the garage, opened the trunk, took out her purchases and as she closed the trunk, she noticed it would not close. She tried many times, pressing down and in, slamming the door down quickly while she pressed against the lower part with her knee. At last she had to give up. In her mind she could hear the scalding remarks her husband would make. She carried her shopping into the house and told her daughter what had happened. Her daughter went out to try to close the trunk. She did not succeed either. Both women then tried together. The daughter nearly lost her temper and started to get angry at her mother. They became nearly irrational with dread.
Both women tried out different versions to tell the husband. None was satisfactory because the fact remained that the car was damaged and they knew the husband’s reaction was going to be devastating. They considered taking the car to the mechanic, but quickly gave up the idea. The mechanic could damage the car even more if he were not successful and everything would be worse. The anger against the husband was growing strong in both women.
The wife phoned her other daughter and told her what had happened. This daughter had a sometimes irrational husband too and suggested to pretend nothing had happened but, instead, to attack the husband, saying when he had come home, had had his shower and already mesmerized by his beloved television, “why did you not tell me the trunk of the car did not close properly?” And nothing else because too many questions and explanations would give the liar away, especially when lying was not a habit. Yes, that was the only solution and the three women were confident it would work. It would save them a lot of anxiety, anger and bad feelings.
The husband came home. As usual, he did not greet anyone, did not kiss anyone, did not bring cheerfulness into the home. It was as if dark clouds were trailing behind him and the atmosphere became oppressive as it always did when he came home. He took his shower, he said he had eaten on the way home and threw himself into his favorite place on the sofa with a tin of beer in one hand.
After about twenty minutes his wife had rehearsed her sentence several times and was ready to pass by him, as if casually, and, as if suddenly remembering, stopped and turned back and said, “By the way, why did you not tell me the trunk of the car did not close properly?” He immediately stopped looking at the flickering screen and snapped “What do you mean, the trunk does not close properly?” The woman thought: very, very brief, no long explanations now and told him that after she had put in her shopping, she could not close the trunk again at the supermarket.
The husband got up, robot-like, every movement a statement of protest and anger, went out to the car und used many tools from his tool kit, but could not close the trunk. He speculated on what must have happened, asked where the wife had left the car while she did her shopping, where else she had gone and eventually came to the conclusion that everything had been O.K. four days ago and that someone had hit the car while it was parked either with him or at the supermarket, and that he was going to have it fixed the next day.
The wife sent a silent prayer heavenwards and asked her God for forgivenness. She felt sure HE understood that this time she had to use a lie just to be able to survive in relative peace.
During all of his life, he had never respected things. He slammed doors, he kicked chairs, he scratched the polished surface of the table; one day in anger, he had even thrown a fan against the wardrobe. Nothing was precious to him. He did not much respect persons either. He had no tolerance, no tenderness and very little love for anything or anyone except for himself. He was vain.
One day he bought the car. It was nearly new. It was a lovely metallic blue. It did not have a single scratch on its paint. The inside had been so well cared for by its previous owner that the plastic covers were still in place. Its motor hummed smoothly.
The car was equipped with air-conditioning and thus could be driven through the heat and noise of the city with its windows rolled up. It was the newest car he had ever possessed. He loved that car as he had never loved anything before.
Whenever he had to travel and leave the car with his wife, he instructed her over and over on how to be careful with his car. Whenever he came back and used the car for the first time again, he inevitably found something the matter with it. The brakes did not feel the same, the steering did not feel as stable as before and always he found a little scratch somewhere on its body.
He did not like that his wife had to change the position of the mirror and the driver’s seat. One day, exasperated, his wife told him she could try and put a pillow on the seat so as not to change the position of the rearview mirror. She had meant to be funny, but he ansered seriously that she could move the mirror, but she had to be very careful not to use any force as it might become unglued from the windshield.
Once, when he came back from one os his trips, he complained of all the usual things and his wife sat quietly, trying not to pay attention to him until he said, “I bet you have not even bothered to check the water.” And, “probably you did not even know the car is refrigerated with water!” His wife’s heart gave a secret jump of apprehension and she asked him to show her where the tank was. He made some uncompromising sounds, said he was in a hurry and she forgot about it.
Weeks later, when he had the hood of the car up and was checking the oil, she asked him to show her where the radiator was so she could know where to put the water. He hedged and tried to change the subject, but she insisted until he had to admit that the water was in a sealed tank. She did not even try to argue with him and let this revelation hang in the air.
When he left on a trip again, his wife drove the car home from the supermarket one day, had to break suddenly and sharply because of a speeding car cutting in in front of her, and the car behind her rammed the back of her husband’s beautiful blue car. She felt panic welling up in her. She stopped the car and the woman driver behind her stopped too. They got out and together the two women inspected the back of the blue car. Nothing seemed to be dented or out of place. Both women parted in a friendly way. They had behaved in a civilized manner. They were so relieved they did not find any obvious damage, that they forgot to be thorough.
The wife got back into the car, feeling a weight lifted off her mind. She breathed deeply. If anything had happened to the car, she would never again have a moment of peace. She would have to listen to her husband telling her again and again about the heinous crime she had committed against the shiny blue car and against himself.
When she arrived home, she drove the car into the garage, opened the trunk, took out her purchases and as she closed the trunk, she noticed it would not close. She tried many times, pressing down and in, slamming the door down quickly while she pressed against the lower part with her knee. At last she had to give up. In her mind she could hear the scalding remarks her husband would make. She carried her shopping into the house and told her daughter what had happened. Her daughter went out to try to close the trunk. She did not succeed either. Both women then tried together. The daughter nearly lost her temper and started to get angry at her mother. They became nearly irrational with dread.
Both women tried out different versions to tell the husband. None was satisfactory because the fact remained that the car was damaged and they knew the husband’s reaction was going to be devastating. They considered taking the car to the mechanic, but quickly gave up the idea. The mechanic could damage the car even more if he were not successful and everything would be worse. The anger against the husband was growing strong in both women.
The wife phoned her other daughter and told her what had happened. This daughter had a sometimes irrational husband too and suggested to pretend nothing had happened but, instead, to attack the husband, saying when he had come home, had had his shower and already mesmerized by his beloved television, “why did you not tell me the trunk of the car did not close properly?” And nothing else because too many questions and explanations would give the liar away, especially when lying was not a habit. Yes, that was the only solution and the three women were confident it would work. It would save them a lot of anxiety, anger and bad feelings.
The husband came home. As usual, he did not greet anyone, did not kiss anyone, did not bring cheerfulness into the home. It was as if dark clouds were trailing behind him and the atmosphere became oppressive as it always did when he came home. He took his shower, he said he had eaten on the way home and threw himself into his favorite place on the sofa with a tin of beer in one hand.
After about twenty minutes his wife had rehearsed her sentence several times and was ready to pass by him, as if casually, and, as if suddenly remembering, stopped and turned back and said, “By the way, why did you not tell me the trunk of the car did not close properly?” He immediately stopped looking at the flickering screen and snapped “What do you mean, the trunk does not close properly?” The woman thought: very, very brief, no long explanations now and told him that after she had put in her shopping, she could not close the trunk again at the supermarket.
The husband got up, robot-like, every movement a statement of protest and anger, went out to the car und used many tools from his tool kit, but could not close the trunk. He speculated on what must have happened, asked where the wife had left the car while she did her shopping, where else she had gone and eventually came to the conclusion that everything had been O.K. four days ago and that someone had hit the car while it was parked either with him or at the supermarket, and that he was going to have it fixed the next day.
The wife sent a silent prayer heavenwards and asked her God for forgivenness. She felt sure HE understood that this time she had to use a lie just to be able to survive in relative peace.
