"A Tale Of Two RAVs"

Act I: Death of a RAV

I was lucky to have been sleeping in . . .
   my first cold in three-and-a-half years
   since COVID began.

Through my wandering slumber
   I briefly heard something like a winter sled
   whooshing and scraping across my deck.
Recalling wet snow from my youth
   that soaked my shoes
   and focused my breath into long clouds of vapor,
   slow to dissipate.

So, too,
   did the sound of my neighbors’ chainsaws,
   freely conjuring vignettes simmering across my bed
   into dreams
   for me to bathe in.

Those two rescue workers could not wait to see
   my face when I saw their photos
   of the oak tree that fainted and gave-up-the-ghost,
   totaling my beloved Toyota RAV4.
A Forest Foreclosure, of sorts.

So compelling was this sight that a wild turkey
   tried gleefully to puncture a tire with its beak.

___________________________________
Act II: Adopting a RAV

Searching, week after week after week . . .
   piles of photos,
   pinpointing models and pedigree,
   claims of compatibility,
   promises of perfection,
   disappointing diagnostics . . .

My Friend says,
   “If you’re really clear about what you want,
   it will feel like an adoption.”

Across the street from the dealership that I walked out of,
   I entered another dealership,
   filled with balloons and expecting young couples.

As the salesperson led me to the RAV4 I saw online,
   I was not impressed . . . until I went inside.
The photos barely prepared me for my reaction.

Easing into the oh-so-comfortable leather seats
   and gazing at the black and copper dashboard,
I felt like I was in a car owned by the Mafia,
   or at least someone with way too much money.

The salesperson intoned:
   The car isn’t ready to test drive yet, but give the engine a whirl.

When it started, I heard the car whisper to me:
   Don't you like my hot trim, my comfy seats,
   and my alluring purrr?
   You know, I can make you feel like you’re having a hot date
   every time you drive me.
   I loved it when my last owner
   really took control of me.

I cleared my throat and asked the salesperson to give me
   a couple more minutes alone with this car.

What’s the matter?
Haven’t you ever been seduced by a car before?
You know, we cars have a lot more sway
   in deciding our owners
   than you might think.

All you have to do is buy me in full
   and get me checked out within five days.
If you find something major you can return me,
   no questions asked.
Honest!
Pay no attention to those 200 negative reviews
   for my dealer on YELP.
   That’s a lot of oil under the bridge . . .

Days later . . .

I came upon a nearly identical RAV4,
   eager to be adopted from a Mom ’n Pop’s lot.
Its more modest interior
   and assortment of minor paint scratches
   were deceiving.

As I got into this car, it whispered to me:

You know, you can put leather covers on my seats,
   if you like.
You can make the dash monitor fancier by combining
   my backup camera with a GPS system,
   if you like.
I can be the perfect listener when you drive home from a long gig,
   or less-than-perfect concert,
   if you like.
And I’m just as quiet as that other RAV4 you lusted after . . .

As I began driving it, I was relieved to feel how solid this car was,
   and how in tune it felt to me.

See how responsive I am?
   I will always be there for you,
   and never wander off to flirt with other owners.
Unless you repaint me that hot copper you’ve been eyeing.
   You’ll see . . .

Unwilling to solely trust my instincts,
   I had this RAV4 thoroughly checked out.
I returned to the dealer,
   results in hand.

The dealer’s
   spartan office,
   clear eyes,
   relaxed demeanor,
   and unflappable honesty
   communicated
   badly needed trust.

He smiled when I showed him the clean diagnostic
   on his RAV4.

What did I tell you?
I listen to my customers,
   but I listen to my cars, too.
I bet this car was a musician
   in a past life,
   just like you.
Sign here.

Transferring my belongings out of bags
   and moving into my new car
   was the ritual my body needed to know:
   It Is Done.

When I turned the ignition on,
   with papers in hand,
   I heard my car whisper:

I can’t wait to
   Take You Home. 

 

 

 

June 2023

 

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©2023, Michael Smolens