Valt Wagner

  I began my day like any other day. It was Monday, a typical Monday. I was late. I rushed getting up, stubbed my toe on the corner of the bed frame, cursing and limping my way into the bathroom. The bathroom floor was icy cold and it felt nice against my swollen toe. I sat on the throne for what seemed like hours, moving my toe back and forth against the tile floor. Finally, the throbbing of my toe was lessening and I pulled myself together and climbed into the shower stall for a quick hose down. I finished my shower, toweled off and stepped out onto the cold tiles and stood in front of the sink assessing my hair. Grabbing the toothbrush, I loaded it up with toothpaste and gave the moss on my teeth a good scrubbing. My hair was standing straight up and I ran some water on my brush and attempted to tame the beast. It was no use, the unruly mop was going to stick up. I grabbed the hairspray and swept my hair up into a bun and sprayed it in place. I headed to the bedroom and picked out an outfit, I was already late, so a few minutes more wasn’t going to hurt. I decided that if I am going to be late, at least I would arrive looking better than I usually do. I put on my nicest pair of shoes and grabbed a muffin out of the fridge and a bottle of orange juice as I entered the kitchen.

My car keys were hanging by the door along with my purse and I grabbed those on the way out the door. Locking the door behind me, I scanned the neighborhood. There was no one lurking, I pushed the garage door opener on my key fob and the door opened to reveal my vintage VW Thing. I had named it, Valt Wagner. It was orange and the top was down. I threw my purse on the passenger seat and hopped in.

I had bought Valt back in the seventies and had taken it to the garage for regular check ups every ten thousand miles so when I turned the key, the engine started up and hummed like it did when it was brand new. The seats were still in brand new condition and the rubber mats were not cracked or worn. I hit the car wash once a week whether Valt was dirty or not. I had invested in a clear coat of paint to keep it looking brand new.

Valt never was exposed to sunlight for longer than it took me to drive to work and back. I kept a tarp in the back and covered Valt in the parking garage at work. Valt and I had several close calls in our fifty year history. We had gotten trapped under a bridge by a tornado one year and I prayed that Valt would be safe and not be harmed. Every year that went by, I grew more and more wary of the other drivers in my path. There were days when I almost retired Valt and thought about buying a cheap car to commute back and forth to work. On those days, I would look at Valt's smiling grill and say to myself, “One more week". Of course, the one more week never came.

I pulled out of the garage and rolled out to the street backwards and looking both ways, backed into the street and put Valt in first gear and headed down the street. Today, was a good day. Most days, my street was busy with commuters. I guess it pays to be late. Valt moved along at the safe neighborhood speed of twenty miles per hour. I didn’t mind the slow speed. Being slow had saved Valt and I on countless occasions. He could stop on a dime as long as our speed was below forty. The city streets I traveled were rarely set higher than thirty-five, so Valt had it easy. The only problem we faced was the fifteen mile stretch of highway between my little neighborhood and the downtown area, where I worked.

The powers that be, had decided back in the eighties that traffic was too congested downtown and had blocked off several roads and built a bypass. I was forced to change my route and Valt and I were not happy. He struggled with all the detours, during the ten year project and I had to take him to the body shop once due to an incident with tar. The highway contractors had sprayed tar on a new section and opened that section up without warning that tar was wet. I had cried, upon seeing Valt’s tires and body when I had arrived at my job. I immediately had called my insurance company and was assured that the tar could be removed by a reputable body shop and had given me the number. I had called them right away and they set up an appointment for Valt.

Valt had been cleaned and sparkled like new when I arrived to pick him up. It had taken a week for the body shop to strip and repaint a few places that the tar could not be removed. They had given me a loaner car to use and I gladly turned it back over to them the moment I arrived and saw my new and improved Valt. I called the insurance company and told them what a wonderful job they had performed. The next week my premiums went up. I didn’t care. Valt was worth every penny.

I was coming up to the blasted bypass and my whole body tensed as I saw that the traffic was already bumper to bumper and moving fast. The cars were whipping by us about sixty miles per hour and I sat on the ramp, waiting for a brief opening. I had to time it so that the car behind would not hit Valt. Valt’s engine was running smooth and I push down on the accelerator and released the clutch just enough to keep us from rolling backwards. There it is was, a large truck was slowing down and flashed its lights. I released the clutch and floored the accelerator. Valt leaped forward and eased into position between the truck and the car that had been in front of it.

We were flying along in front of the truck and I could feel Valt’s displeasure at the rate of speed we were forced to maintain. I eased off the accelerator and slowed down a bit. The truck driver behind us blew the horn and I could see in my rear view mirror that he was upset that I had slowed down. I didn’t care. Valt was my baby and I was not going to speed up just to suit that person. They could pass us, it was a three lane by-pass after all.

Valt was rumbling by the time we got to our exit. I eased off the bypass and down the ramp. The signal light was green at the bottom of the ramp and I slowed and looked both ways before proceeding through the intersection. I made it across and pulled into the parking garage and found a spot and parked. I got out and grabbed Valt’s tarp and thanked him for another crash free ride to work. I covered my baby up and went up to my office on the second floor.

My office door was open and I looked inside and saw my co-workers looking around. I heard one of them say, “I just can’t believe she’s gone. She was always so careful when she drove. I hope they throw the book at that truck driver for running over her.”