If Cars Could Think 9

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Casey, keep Omaira out of the way," warned George for probably the tenth time that day.

"What?" Casey asked. "I thought she was inside."

"She was," he snorted, letting his heavy snowplow hit the ground with a loud clang. "But, she doesn't seem to care to listen to a thing anyone says, so I suggest staying inside with her."

Casey glanced around at the lot behind the garages. The fast falling snow was already accumulating on the ground, and she could see her daughter whirling about in it, not caring that she was in anyone's way.

"She has no fear," George went on. "She won't move out of my way, even when I'm coming towards her with my plow to the ground. Shut her in that garage please."

"Of course." Despite the frigid air, Casey's paintwork pricked hotly with annoyance. I've taught her better than this. I've told her a million times to stay out of the way while the big trucks are working. Why doesn't she listen? She rolled up to her daughter, who spun a tight circle in the snow, sending it showering into Casey's face.

"Omaira," she snapped. "You're in George's way. He needs to plow this out-"

Again, she spun her four tires hard, ignoring what her mother was saying.

"If you're going to make me push you into that garage, you're going to be in a lot more trouble."

Omaira finally stopped, and spun around to face her. "But it's fun," she protested.

"You're in George's way!" Casey hissed. "You're lucky he didn't plow right over you. Let's go." She gave the little SUV a sharp thump with her wheel, nudging her along.

"Hey!" she cried. "I stay outside!"

"No. You're coming with me." She turned back to George as Omaira finally headed along. "Sorry, George!" she called.

"Don't worry about it, kiddo!" He was already plowing a mound of snow up to the corner.

"You see how strong George's plow is – Omaira?" She turned around, realizing that her daughter was nowhere to be seen. She didn't roll back over there, did she?

"Mommy!" Relief made her suspension droop when she realized her daughter had already made it to the entrance to the garage. The dark red Ford Explorer sat there, headlights glowing smugly. "I tricked you!" she giggled.

"Not funny," Casey hissed, rolling in beside her. "None of this is funny. Do it again and you'll have your father to answer to – and he won't be as nice as I am."

Omaira didn't seem too bothered by it, though; she was already settling onto a blanket in the corner. Am I doing this right? Casey asked herself, as she had probably thousands of times over the last couple months. How am I supposed to know?

...

"You think we're good parents, don't you Michael?" Casey stared at him.

"Of course." His gaze was fixed on one of the alien enclosures, so she didn't really know if he was listening to what she said.

"She's with my parents right now, anyways. I managed to keep her in while George was plowing everything out – that was a task in itself. I know you're busy with everything here, so I thought you'd like to know."

"Yeah." He shifted his wheels. "She's just a little rebellious. Kids get that way. Don't worry about it."

But I'm the one who has to worry, Casey thought, because she's more my responsibility than yours. It wasn't his fault, of course; he just had a higher position than her.