"You are in big trouble, Edward Michael Knight. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Seated at the sofa in his living room,  Ed glanced up at his parents as they berated him. Nodding, he began to address his father.

"Yes, dad. I am not mentally disabled, you know. What I did was wrong and I won't do it again, but you got to remember, those clowns were pressuring me into racing them. If I didn't do it, I'd be less than a man in everyone's eyes."

Mr. Knight shook his bespectacled head.  "Listen boy, I get what the need to prove yourself. Believe it or not, I was a young man like yourself once. Even so, that doesn't give you leave to run headfirst into trouble. It takes a bigger man to exercise restraint and not fall for the baiting of his peers."

His mom crossed her arms and nodded. "That's right. I stand with what your daddy said. Besides, what were you doing out when it is a school night still?"

"I had already finished my homework," Ed responded. "I thought I'd get a bit of a breather before the rest of the school year commenced. I mean, this is my final year before I get to apply to colleges. Why not have a bit of fun with my homies before I go through the grinder?"

Mr. and Mrs. Knight exchanged looks before the latter spoke.

"Edward , listen to me. Believe me when I say you are doing well in your studies and keeping your grades up these past few years. Honor Roll for 6 semesters stressed. Pa and I are proud, but we are worried that your recent antiques could jeopardize your college acceptances. "

"That's right," his father chimed in. "You are to spend a vast portion of your time on schoolwork, extracurriculars, and a part-time job. Once college acceptance letters come through, you are free to travel where you wish as long as it doesn't involve getting arrested or cited by KCSO. "

"What?" The young man stood up, his heart feeling like an anaconda was constricting it. "That's like I am being sentenced to solitary confinement. "

"No, it's not," his father countered. "It will only last until you get your first acceptance letter. Then you can enjoy going out with your friends. Just don't go with anyone that is not Rollie, Alex, and Cassidy. They are the only good influences in your life."

"Dad, you know we are barely in the process of applying, right? That will take months."

"Then you better hunker down until then," his mother retorted. "You know that speeding ticket you received in addition to being arrested wasn't covered when we bailed you out of the jail. These few months will be sufficient enough for you to pay it off. Be glad that your arrest won't go on your record. You are dismissed, young man."

Edward rose and wordlessly ascended the polished Navarro wood steps to his room and plopped down on his bed, fit with Chicago Bears livery,  and wordlessly glanced upwards. Anime as well as a Godzilla poster greeted him as he fumed over what he deemed was an unjust punishment for his behavior. 

Man! It is not like I was planning to bomb city hall or some Shite like that. Besides , Johnny Karrington and his thugs came to start trouble at Nevin's, not the other way around. 

He sat up and took his Wolverine Funko bobblehead, gazing at it before a flashing green light caught his attention.  His phone, nestled between his DVD collection and his graphic novels which included manga,  had received a voicemail. Picking it up, he activated his phone and noticed that it was from Rollie. Curious what his best friend, whom he had last spoke to in his car, wanted to say, Ed played the message.

"Hey bro, this is Rollie. Sorry about what happened earlier.  I didn't mean to get you in deep doodoo with your parents, but I didn't know how else to get you out of jail. I should have spoke up in your defense when your folks were berating you and I regret that I don't. Anyway, I am going to put that behind us now and hope you will do the same. Are you up to study at my place over the weekend for Wong's? I hope you will come along as Alex and Cassie will be here as well. I have even extended the invite to Dali as well. Take care and if you can call me back, that would be great."

---

"Bro, I thought brothas were supposed to watch each other's sixes?"

In the Fury's passenger seat, Rollie glanced over at Edward as he drove his closest mate home.

"Well, I got you out of jail, didn't I? Did you enjoy staying sitting in that piss-stained cell with Karrington and his apes as your companions?"

Eddie only snorted. "Yeah, but now I am going to be grounded. I won't be able to play Call of Duty, Halo, or Battlefront 2 nor will I be able to watch that new Bruce Willis movie or the latest John Wick film because you decided to rat me out to my ma and pa."

"The alternative would be worse," Rollie shot back. "Who knows how long they could have kept you inside that cell? You could have missed weeks or even months of classes, including exams. Also, aren't you playing the trumpet for the ROTC Color Guard? How bad would it look for colleges if you missed that many days and this arrest ended up on your record?"

"I got the point, dude. Oh,  look! Here we are.  Ride's over." Ed pulled Christine over before Rollie's green and white contemporary house. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. Do we have drills for the Color Guard presentation? "

"I believe so." Rollie nodded as he stepped out of the vehicle. "I'll let you stew over what happened for a bit and I do hope your folks don't chew you out much over it. I'm aware that actions have consequences, but I do hope you will recover from it soon enough so we can get on with this year.  After that, bye bye Carpenter High!"

As soon Rollie stepped out and marched to his door,  Ed drove his precious car down King Boulevard and rode toward his home. Heading West to White street, the route to his home, Ed began to think over everything that had occurred from the party at 27th Guilder Street to his ass getting bailed out of Bakersfield's Sheriff's jail. He felt a sense of dread he hadn't felt since his middle school yeas when he received detention for letting Jose Gallegos copy his Algebra homework.

"Boy, your friend talks too much. You are better off dumping him and riding solo. After all, you have this baby."

The young ROTC cadet glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw the old man sitting in the back, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, the nerdy dude wearing a red-black high collar jacket leaned back, staring at him intently. They had been appearing as passengers in his ride occasionally yet they never unnerved him one bit. It's like they were part of the vehicle, like the hood and trunk. 

"No true friend would rat you out like that. Only you know what's best for you.  You need no one else other than us. Our darling here is all you will need. She will be your friend till the end. "

Eddie watched as the geek, who looked more like Renfield now, pat the scarlet seat affectionately.  While he took what the two riders said with a pinch of sand, a part of him inside felt that it would be more practical for him to follow their advice and break contact with his school friends. He might benefit from having new friends that wouldn't hinder him and would support what he wanted to do.  It would just be him and his baby, Christine. He would dazzle and awe his peers with his classic ride and even kick the asses of punks like Karrington, making him a role model for all the aspiring racers and students. Moreover, Dali would ditch the D-bag prick Karl and come with a real man like him.  He was just tempted so tempted to take up on the specters' offer.  

---

Nah, screw it. My parents will put all this behind them once I pass my exams and get into the university. Then I can put this desert boonie behind me and move forward with my life. I am undecided on my future career path, but after college and the military, I will have an idea. Perhaps I can get into automotive engineering.

Putting aside his anger at Rollie, Edward took out his phone and dialed his childhood friend. 

Come on, man. Pick up. I hope you ain't pissed off at me after I unpacked my rage at you. You always been a better man than me.  Besides, I think you'd make a better psychologist than I could.  You know I can't stay mad at you forever. We are bruthas for life.  We can make amends. Just trust me on this. 

Ed held in a sigh as the fourth ring was heard and it seemed like his pal wouldn't pick up. However, right before it could go to answering, a click was heard and his longtime buddy's voice was heard. Ed smiled in relief as he heard it and responded, hoping to make patch things up.

"Hey man, about that offer to study at your place. I'm game."

---

'We've got a Code 568 on Gordon. Any units within a five mile radius, please take care of that. "

Officer Whalley , his Challenger parked in a Vons lot, among other cars, activated his lights and immediately roared off onto Ming Street to give this sucker a citation.  Individuals like these really need to learn that laws exit for a reason and no one is above them.  He would be damned if he let Officer Penny or that loudmouth partner of his , Officer Derry, beat him to the prize. He had a quota to meet after all.  In a matter of a little over 5 minutes, the eager cop appeared at the Casterly Townhomes and searched for the offending vehicle that was reported by the residents. His eyes then landed on the Red Plymouth Fury that was parked in parallel in a spot designated for one of the residents and immediately recognized it. 

Isn't it the car that the audacious punk drove the other day off the I-204 exit by the Aldo's on 24th Street? It seems like he doesn't learn, does he? Perhaps another citation would drill the message into his head. If not, there is always impoundment and jail. Thugs like him sometimes need to learn that life doesn't revolve around them the hard way.

The dedicated policeman blared his sirens one time and once he saw that the Fury still didn't budge, stopped his car and stepped out. He peered in through the driver's window, but it was hard to see anything through the tinted windows save for the streetlights reflected in them.  He tapped on the window roughly to get the occupants to lower them.

"Come on! Roll down your windows. It's so dark that I can't see sh*t  in them. Besides, there is a law about having tinted windows. You want to add that on to your already growing rapsheet? Soon, it will be as long as Santa's naughty- ah! Finally, you comply. Was that so hard? No need to present your ID, I recall your details really well."

As soon as the windows of the Plymouth Fury, black as obsidian, finished rolling all the way down, it was not the young African-American man he had pulled over earlier that stared back, but another youth the same age, only white, with a Jewish-looking nose, and wearing a red windbreaker that reminded Officer Whalley of James Dean from Rebel Without a Cause. In the seat beside the young chap was an old man with a full beard that had white patches chomping on a cigar and giving him a look that didn't sit well with the cop. 

"What the hell do you want?" the lad barked.

"Well, I'll be damned, it isn't the young punk I was looking for," Officer Whalley surmised. "It seems that I have the wrong hooligan. I could have sworn you both have the same cars with the same license plates, but that could be my memory drawing blanks. Perhaps this was your car he was borrowing or vice versa. Either way, you are getting a citation."

"Go eat s*^t, sh*^ter!" the odious-looking elderly guy snarled and puffed his cigar smoke at the bewildered officer, who drew his gun.

"That's it! I've had enough of your guys' crap! Both of you out of the car with your hands in the air! On the count of three-Augh!"

The driver's door shot open and knocked the austere police officer onto his bottoms,  causing him to release his grip on his weapon. As the gun skittered somewhere under the Dodge Challenger,  the Red Fury started its engines, the lights turning on like the eyes of a night demon and with a roar that reminded the downed cop of a dragon from the movies his son watched , the classic car sped off.  Once the driver's door slowly shut like an automatic garage door,  he took out his radio and started to call for backup.

"Requesting Code 129, we have a 1958 Plymouth Fury with a red and white color scheme wanted for a parking violation speeding down Gordon. Requesting backup and a nice charge of assaulting an officer on this young white dark-haired juvie. I believe he is the owner of the vehicle-"

The agitated cop froze in mid-sentence once he saw the Fury pause in the middle of the street. After a couple of seconds, the reverse lights came on and the automobile from a bygone era started to back up toward the officer. Horrified, the officer wondered what the heck the criminals were doing when the car gradually began to gain speed. Terror soon overtook him when he realized what the intentions of the driver was. The doomed officer raised his radio to request help, but with unearthly speed, the Plymouth Fury crushed the disreputable cop into his vehicle. The last thing the man saw before being tattooed into his squad car was the taillights resembling a sneering ghoul. 

The roars of the revving engines could be heard as the possessed auto tore down the street as if it was racing. Local residents , especially in the Casterly Townhomes, could report hearing loud laughter, but that remained unconfirmed.