SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: THE JEEP

 

Sweet ride. Sweet life. Sweet 16.

Look, I get the importance of having a car in the suburbs. People need to get around, especially teens, they just feel trapped. And trust me I would have bought my son Kellan a car if I could have afforded it. I tried. I really did, overtime, extra shifts, but the money just didn’t come together. So, color me surprised when I wake up to Kellan screaming for joy on our front lawn. A green Jeep was just out there waiting for him. My son wrapped me in a hug, thanking me. I was too caught off guard to explain, a car that hadn’t existed the night prior was just there and attributed to me. My son was so happy I didn’t want to take his smile away, I played into it, as if I had put the car there.

He asked me if he could take it for a spin, just around the block a few times.

“Sure, I relented.” and that was my biggest mistake. I didn't know what people said about cars in the suburbs at that time: They were important, but they could also be traps. People's lives could become entangled in them. 

I remember that first night, my son and I were sitting in the living room watching a movie, while my eyes drifted to our window. In the dark of night, the car sat there. Felt like it was watching us. I got up and closed the shades.

A week later, was when I first noticed that Kellan’s clothes were tight on him. He was passing me by in the hall and I stopped him. “Got you a new shirt,” I pulled on the hem. It looked like he had been going to a gym, it made me look like I needed to get to the gym.

Three weeks in, I was chilling with my neighbor Jan, sipping homemade mimosas in her backyard. A hot spring day that two single parents off work could enjoy by drinking the afternoon away.

“It’s great you brought Kellan a car. Here you had me thinking you weren’t going to make it.” She hit me softly on my thigh.

“Actually,” I reclined in my chair, “I didn’t buy that car, it just showed up.”

“Haha, stop joking. Tell me how you got it,” she asked.

“I’m serious,” I shrugged while taking a sip of my drink. The look she gave me. It was like the world froze. All I could hear were the birds in the distance and her sprinklers going off. She began to stand up, clearing off her table.

“You need to go.” She turned to me. No humor or merriment in her voice from our previous fun.

“What, why?” I asked and sat up.

“Cars don’t just come from nowhere. You need to get rid of that thing before it’s too late! Cars are parasites if you're not ready for them.”

And then she kicked me out, ending our fun times there. I walked back home and I thought about what she said. I got the overall point that cars were money sinks, gas, insurance etc. but wasn’t her reaction a bit over the top?

I was on the porch drinking the rest of my mimosa, when Kellan pulled up back from school. He hopped out of the car. I nearly did a spit take; my son was standing taller than when he had left. I wasn’t even discussing the few inches people claimed to grow a day. I mean he grew INCHES. He slung his backpack across his shoulder, locking his car, and strolling up to me real casually. It would have looked cool if his body wasn’t attempting an escape on his clothes. Kellan looked like he had been dieting on nothing but protein for years, though he’d only been gone for school hours.

“Sorry, I’m late. Graduation practice ran over time.”

“Graduation practice? Oh, were you asked to help with that?”

Kellan looked at me like I’d grown a second head, “Uh Dad, I’m in it. I graduate this year. Stop playing around.” His face turned into a smile as he clearly believed I had been passing off a joke. He made his way inside, putting his keys in the house key bowl. I got up and walked to the car, his keys in hand. Sure enough, a graduation gown was hanging inside. 

I unlocked his car and got the gown out the back. Stopping for a moment, I looked over the interior of his car. New car smell, clean floors. The car looked like a car to me. Jan had really lost it over nothing. Heading back inside, I shouted up to my son, “Don’t leave this gown in the back!” I don’t know how he had it, as it was another thing I hadn't paid for, but I assumed it was for a prank. Kellan didn’t respond so I headed upstairs and knocked on his door. Still no answer. I turned the knob and walked inside. Kellan was gaming and had his big headphones on.  Walking over I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hang on guys,” He turned to me, spinning his chair. That’s when I registered, he had changed his clothes. Nothing on but a loose tank top and sweats. More clothes that I hadn’t bought, but his arms were out on display and looked ready for action. “What’s up, dad?”

My attention drifted back, “You can’t leave this outside. I don’t know what you’re planning but someone could break into your car to get it.” I walked over to his closet to hang it up and to my shock, there was nothing but new clothes hanging in there. Shifting through, I couldn't recall a single piece he had ever worn, and they were all larger than his normal size. I placed the clothes in and got out of there.

The joke was on me. One week later, I was attending a graduation with parents I’d never met before coming up to congratulate me as if we’d been friends for years. Kellan taking photos and laughing with a bunch of guys I’d never seen at our house before. All sort of cut from the same cloth of athletic, gym going types. 

Jan came around to the house again, but she didn't recall our last conversation at all.  No fear, no anger, when I brought up her statement last time. She simply laughed it off and said I must have been drunk. Though when I mentioned again, I hadn’t bought the car and how it showed up her body tensed as she turned to peer out my window at the car. She then relaxed, but there was something unnatural about it. No sigh of relief or dropping of the shoulders. Rather the tension in her muscles let go, like a prey being forced to ignore its instincts. It unsettled me.

So much so, I decided it was time to get rid of the car. One weird coincidence was fine, multiple in succession was a pattern. I figured the best course of action was one of least resistance from Kellan, so I told him we could trade his car in. He told me he loved his car, BUT what freshly graduated young man was going to turn down the opportunity to get an even better car?

We got in his car and pulled out our driveway. Hard to recall what happened next. I think it was the radio playing Burn Baby Burn that started it all. My son reached over so casually to flick it off, but I noticed he was sweating. I told him to put down the windows. He tried, but they didn’t budge. Next, he tried to blast the A/C: nothing. Then I had a random thought to try and open the door. They locked. I heard faint sounds like pop rocks going or tiny crackles. Looking over, my son’s hands were growing on the steering wheel, flesh remolding, bones shifting. Kellan was in a full-on sweat. It wasn’t just his hands, his whole body was changing, muscles growing. The car began to smell like iron, as the temperature climbed, all pouring off Kellan’s body soaking into the vehicle.

“Pull over, Kellan!” I started. He couldn't respond, only looked at me as I saw his neck dancing, shifting muscles around, changes climbing into his face. I grabbed the wheel, but couldn’t move it, though the wheel turned regardless: The car was driving itself. It moves at a leisurely pace as my son’s growth went into overtime. His clothes split as his body busted out everywhere making every showing of skin more visible as the time went on. The car seat rocketed back as Kellan legs stretched out, feet splitting his shoes. The width of his shoulders spilled over the edges of his seats. 

Then heat got to me and I passed out.

—

When I came too, I was standing outside, phone in hand. I was in the middle of a large park.

“Dad, take the shot,” a deep voice shouted to me. I looked through it and saw a young man sitting in front of his jeep. My memory came back to me. We were celebrating Kellan’s 26th birthday and graduation from his master’s program. How had I forgotten that? I snapped the photo, Kellan looked bigger than I remember, he must have been horking those post-grad college meals down. Strangely, I couldn’t recall how we had got out there.

After getting a few pics, I looked down at my shirt. There was a picture of a Jeep on it. I never fancied myself as a car guy, but it was there all the same. Maybe I was a car guy. I mean, what was life in the suburbs without a car? Cars were the life blood that kept our suburban living alive. No one understood that more than my son. Kellan’s car was his life; it took him everywhere he needed to go, college, home, the gym. It was like an extra part of him, and it wasn’t going anywhere.