If Cars Could Think 9

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

"You shouldn't have told us anything," Casey hissed, trying not to awaken her four little ones that shared the garage with her and her parents.

"I believe you deserve to know something like that," her dad answered curtly. "Especially since it ties you to me – as your father – so perfectly. You're not only my daughter, but you hold a part of my past within you, and that's special to me."

"Don't you understand? I don't want to be special; not while Cassie isn't. I want to be normal."

"We never said Cassie wasn't," argued her mother. "I was getting to the part where I saw the original soul split – she just wouldn't listen to me. And she never does! She's too insistent on everything being unjust and unfair for her, it's almost as if she wants it to be that way!"

Her dad nudged her mother with a wheel. "Cassie will come around, and I'll explain that to her then, if she cares to hear it. But you have to keep in mind that she told us she didn't have any of those dreams like Casey has. That tells me that maybe she's not related to the original Casey at all."

"The soul split," her mother insisted. "They each got half of it, and half of whatever unique soul we gave to them, so they're the same, and different, in many ways. One of them may still have memories of her traumatic past life, while the other doesn't. Either way, I don't see how it matters. We love them the same and they both know that."

"Of course." Her dad's headlights dulled, and he seemed at ease.

What an eventful night, Casey thought, wondering if she would be able to sleep soundly, or at all. This is just another way I'm making Cassie suffer, another reason for her to feel that I'm everybody's favorite, and another reason for her to hate me. If I could have everybody else love me a little less, in order for Cassie to love me a little more, or at all, I'd be happy with that.

...

Casey's mind had taken her to this dark place once more as she slept. It had been awhile since she'd dreamed of this place, but now, for once, she knew she was dreaming.

She was tinier than ever; everything around her looked tall and scary. The four walls were dirty, and the window at the very top of the rear wall didn't let in any light, though she could hear the incessant patter of rain against thin glass.

Casey rolled up to the wall opposite of the one with the window. This one had a tiny hole that she could peer out of. All she saw were more little rooms like the one she was in, almost too dark to make out. She could smell other cars, too, and the oddly strong odor of oil and other fluids. Is there a car leaking in here? Or more than one, maybe? She backed away from the little crack; the scent was enough to make her gag. I hope that doesn't happen to me! Why am I here, anyways? She could recall scraps of the previous day, when the world around her had flooded enough to make it impossible for her to move, and a human much bigger than her had scooped her up. She'd been tossed into the seat of a massive truck, and taken far away. She was quite clean, though. I think they washed me in a bright white bowl. I sort of remember that. She had been covered in mud, enough mud to conceal her white color.

Do they care about me here, if they bothered to clean me up, or did they have to simply in order to recognize me? To tell me apart from the rest, maybe? But who were the rest? What was this place, and what were its intentions? They weren't supposed to take me! I had a place to live. I had a home, and a family. Didn't I? They must have thought I was lost, or I didn't belong anywhere. Maybe that was what this place was; somewhere they took young cars who didn't have a place to live, or anyone to look after them. I'll need to tell someone that that's not the case with me!