Mechanics

Birthday Roadworthy Quiz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cracked an eye open and blinked wearily up at my bedroom ceiling. Was it real? Was I actually, finally awake?

         On my birthday?!

         I leapt out of bed, frightening the aged cat who slept just underneath my mattress. He almost bowled over my mother, sneakily pushing the door open and poking her head around the edge.

         ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, equal parts excited and disappointed. ‘You’re awake!’

         ‘Of course I am!’ I cried out, sticking my arms in the air. ‘It’s my eighteenth birthday! I can drive a car today!’

         I waved my hands around and she laughed, infected by my good spirit. A shadow appeared in the doorway behind her, and the huge, meaty frame of my father stood at her shoulder.

         ‘Son,’ he grumbled, voice booming from beneath an admittedly impressive moustache.

         ‘Yeah, Dad?’ I asked, determined not to let his thundercloud ruin my good day.

         ‘There are responsibilities that come with your new car,’ he said, brow furrowed.

         ‘I know, I know,’ I laughed. ‘But I’ll be a good driver, you’ll—’

         ‘Not with driving,’ he cut me off. My smile slid down slightly.

         ‘Oh?’

         ‘Name the best car auto electrician in the Underwood area,’ he said. ‘Quickly, now.’

         ‘The best… what?’ I stammered.

         ‘Steven,’ my mother quietly protested, already knowing it was no use.

         ‘You always have to be aware who the best mechanic is near me,’ my father continued. ‘And then find your own best mechanic, when you move away from the Underwood area, of course.’

         ‘Of course,’ I sighed, suddenly wishing that day was sooner.

         ‘What about a roadworthy certificate?’ my father shot out at me.

         ‘Is that really necessary?’ my mother attempted. He ignored her.

         ‘Name a mechanic who can do a roadworthy certificate. Near me, of course.’

         ‘Of course,’ I repeated, air truly let out of the balloon that was my birthday.

         ‘Well?’

         ‘Obviously I have no idea,’ I said, sullenly. ‘Can I enjoy my birthday now?’

         My father looked at me, then down at my mum, then back at me.

         ‘Very well,’ he said, with a stiff nod.