Love Her Madly

Chapter 9. Magenta

Song of the chapter: Two heads by Coleman Hell 

"Get in Lover Boy, we're going foraging" were Zara's greeting words as she flung open the passenger side door of her decrepit, old Toyota. I think I saw a swoosh of dust as the door rattled open and a squeak that made me think the car was not only alive, but also in unfathomable agony.

I shuddered. "What is that thing?" Way to hide your disgust David.

"This," she said with a wide smile, "is Magenta. I bought her for $300 when I was 16 and she has been there for me ever since. She's a senior so be respectful you prick."

I got into the car gingerly. The interior did not match the exterior. The exterior was rusted; it had dents in it and a lot of scratches. It was a small, red sedan, probably from the 60's, and you could hear it from a mile away. It looked like the kind of car that no matter how many times you took it to the car wash and spent hours scrubbing it clean it always ended up looking very dirty five minutes later. The interior however was very clean and organized. It had a subtle scent of bergamot that reminded me of a freshly brewed cup of Earl Grey tea. I closed my eyes and let my nose seek out were the beautiful scent was coming from and until I felt a hard swat on my arm.

"Oh hell no! You are seriously not sniffing me right now!" Zara Shrieked.

Fuck. My. Life.

I shrank back into my seat and tried to pretend like my face wasn't so red that you slice it up, add some cucumber and feta, and call it a Greek salad.

Luckily Zara was a good sport and opted to just laugh at me instead of ending the date. I promised myself I would not do anymore air sniffing because I was not a dog. I was a human.

The car rattled and thumped and buzzed all the way to the park. I was surprised we even made it there and the car didn't just stop midway through traffic.

"So...what's the deal with err..." What was the damn of the damn car again?

"Magenta." Zara offered.

"Right. Magenta."

Zara rolled her eyes. "Like I said, I bought her when I was sixteen. I babysat some little twats for two years, saved all the money I made and bought Magenta with it. She's my baby; I'm sticking by her side until she passes away."

I raised a brow. "You know that it's a car and not a person right?"

She scoffed. "Manners David, manners. Magenta's your ride home, don't forget."

I was beginning to regret agreeing to let her pick me up from my condo.

When we arrived at the park she reached into the backseat and produced 2 green buckets the side of ice-cream pales. She handed me one and got out of the car, slamming the door so hard I wondered how "Magenta" had survived in her care for so long.

"So, we are going to collect some Choke cherries, maybe even some wild cranberries, and then we'll use them to make choke cherry jam for the homeless shelter later on."

I missed a good chunk of what she'd said because I was too busy noting how her dark brown eyes looked golden in the sunlight. And also how incredibly perky her breasts looked in her little corduroy jumper and fitted blue belly top. I was positive there was a name for shirts like that, but I was too focused on where the shirt ended to think of it.

We walked around for a bit, occasionally finding a tree with berries that were to Zara's standards and picking all the good ones. It was peaceful and I didn't mind the silence at all. It was strange how comfortable I was being silent around her. I never felt like I had to say something for the sake of talking. I could just simply be with her and that was enough.