by Kathy Bosman
“Okay,” he said, feeling the wind woosh out of his air pipes. Why did that idea not appeal to him somehow?
“What’s wrong, Buggy?”
“Oh, I’m just tired.”
“I understand. You’ve been very busy lately. Life is so much busier for me, too, and I’ve had to hire someone to look after my nursery because caring for Tonca takes time. He’s starting to talk now. Say ‘hello’ to Buggy, Tonca.”
“Hello Buggy.” Tonca looked at him and Buggy smiled warmly.
“He sure looks like you but he’s got Harvey’s spunk.”
“He certainly has.”
“Will he be ready for school yet?”
“I sure hope so. He loves other cars around him all the time and it’s very quiet here so I think he’ll enjoy it. He doesn’t want to be surrounded by plants all the time like me.” Tina winked.
***
After Tonca was enrolled, it seemed that everyone wanted their children to try out the new school. At the end of the busy month, Mannie gave Buggy a good sum of money. Buggy found a builder—one of the parents—and some plans were drawn up for his new building. He bought some bricks and cement and planned to buy his first stock the following month. He began to wish he had a friend to build with and share his dream with but everyone seemed interested in their own dreams. Pelly was so busy with her lessons, Luca and Harvey with their petrol plant, Tina with her new child and home, and Curvy, well, he didn’t want to think about her. He felt lonely. Even God felt distant.
“God, what is wrong with me?” He prayed one night in his dusty, bare little room in the school. He smeared the dust off his Bible and paged through. Nothing seemed to mean anything. He opened the book to Proverbs and began to read.
“Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evil men.” Proverbs 4:14
“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid.” Proverbs 12:1. Had he been stubbornly ignoring correction like when Whizzler had warned him something about money and when Curvy had said he was greedy? What did God mean about setting foot in the path of the wicked? He had so aligned himself with Mannie that Curvy had said he looked like him. Was Mannie wicked? He wasn’t the nicest person to be around and he did seem to have that look in his eyes that he was after something. Buggy had ignored that look—it was just a look—because he wanted to start his own business and Mannie was someone who could help him. Mannie was helping Motoland. It was all so confusing. There was no proof that he was a wicked man, just a funny feeling inside. Was that feeling from God or his own fears? He put his Bible on the shelf. Even his relationship with God was becoming very confusing. He needed to concentrate on building his business. Once it was running smoothly, he would be happy again.
***
“I hate this place. I can’t wait to be free of Mannie,” Buggy said one morning to himself as he opened the school gates for the man again. He’d given him so many orders that morning that Buggy was exhausted and he still had to go to the mayor’s office. Every day felt so long as he worked from early morning until late at night, often missing his supper, just to keep Mannie happy. He had been setting up classrooms, cleaning black and white boards, making all Mannie’s notes, and even cleaning the litter off the grounds.
The young cars drove past him noisily; barely noticing him, their growling engines and smoke making him cough. He left for work, glad to be out of there but worrying about all that would have to be done when he got back that evening.
At lunchtime, Buggy was called by a very angry parent at the mayor’s office.
“It’s only the second month of school and your teacher is never there when I go to fetch my child.”
“Really?” Heat began to rise in his radiator. “I was not aware of that. I will find out what’s going on tonight and fix the problem.”
“You had better or else I’m taking Cemola out of the school immediately and I want a full refund of my school fees.”
“I will do my best,” Buggy said politely, hiding his true feelings. “I’m very sorry about this.”
The parent slammed down the phone without even a goodbye.
Buggy’s petrol sparked fast as he rushed back to the school as soon as he finished work. Mannie was packing books away as Buggy drove in.
“Where have you been?” Buggy roared as he drove up to the man.
“What do you mean?” He looked up at Buggy, the usual smile on his face.
“A furious parent phoned me saying you are never here when he comes to fetch his child.”
“Who was that?”
“Cemola’s Dad.”
Mannie laughed. “I thought so. He always comes early for his child – never abides by the proper school hours.”
“So?” Buggy stared at Mannie, feeling the spark plugs inside of him tingle. “You should always be here. You’re the only teacher. You can’t leave the children alone.”
He put the books down. “Listen car, what do you know about running a school? You just help me with the things I ask from you and keep your nose out my business else your payments will cease.”
“What nose?” Buggy mumbled as he drove away, his spark plugs hurting. He didn’t have a nose. He had a bonnet.
What should he do? Why did he get involved with the school in the first place? What was he going to do about the young cars left alone during the day while Mannie went who-knows-where? He went to his room, every bolt and part rattling from exhaustion. His wheels turned and turned on the hard mat all night as he tried to think of a plan and how to get out of the mess. All he could think was to go to work and ask for the day off and come to the school to see what went on during the day. He would make a plan from there.
***
A very red-lighted Buggy tried to explain to the mayor’s secretary why he had to take the day off.
“Really, Buggy,” the secretary said, “you shouldn’t be involved in this.”
“I feel responsible.”
“I think you should but I hope your job doesn’t suffer.”
“It’s just one day.” His lights focused on the floor. He hated having to let the mayor down, but the school and the children were important, too.
“Okay. I hope you sort it out.”
“Please don’t tell Obenza what’s going on else he’ll close the school.”
“You have my word,” she said a little reluctantly as Buggy left, bumping the door frame on the way out. The secretary frowned at his clumsiness.
Buggy drove into the school at ten o’clock. Mannie was writing on the blackboard while the children watched intently. Buggy crept into the room and listened carefully to the school’s activities. After tea, class resumed, and Buggy heard a different voice. He drove quietly out his door and saw a young student teaching the class. Mannie was gone. Buggy drove down the road to find him. He saw him walking down Rolling Road towards the entrance to Motoland. Before Mannie saw him, he drove away, back to the school. The class was getting rowdier as the poor student tried to make her fellow pupils listen to her. Buggy screeched his tires as he drove in, unable to hide his frustration.
“What’s going on?” he asked the student in front of the class.
“It’s my turn to look after the class today but no-one wants to listen to me.” The little car’s wipers were wiping some tears away.
Chapter Five
“Pelly, Pelly!” Buggy shouted, “I need your help.” Buggy banged on her gate.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
“What could be so urgent, Buggy,” Pelly asked, “that you can’t come in for tea?”
“I don’t have time. I need someone to stand in as a teacher at the school.”
“Do you mean permanently?”
“Yes. Mannie’s never around. There needs to be another adult there.”
“Oh dear, I can’t help you. I’m so busy with lessons.”
“Please Pelly. We’re going to lose students.”
“I can’t.”
&nbs
p; Buggy allowed his grill to form a grim line.
“Buggy, you shouldn’t have got involved in this whole thing.”
“I know. But I have no way out.”
“I can’t help you. Sorry.”
Buggy began to drive away, his wipers drooped in despair.
“Wait!” shouted Pelly. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
“One of my students. You remember I told you about her? Her name is Fiata.”
“I’ll ask her.” He remembered where she stayed after visiting Evity.
Only ten minutes later, Buggy sat on Fiata’s fluffy mat which had a pattern of blue and gold stars.
The bubbly Fiata was more than willing to help.
“I’ll pay you half of the money Mannie pays me,” Buggy said. He didn’t care that it would take longer for his business to start. As long as the children were looked after.
“Thanks, Buggy. I’ve been looking for a job for so long and it’s just what I would enjoy.”
That afternoon, Fiata managed to take charge of the class just before Cemola’s Dad arrived.
***
“I can’t believe you’ve been doing things behind my back.’ Mannie shouted at Buggy. Fiata had been working at the school for nearly a week and the parents were happy.
“Who said you could just hire someone for the school without asking me? Don’t you think I know what I’m doing in this school? You’re just a car and you think you can come here and take over. I’m much older than you. I know much more about life than you do.”
“You left the children on their own without any supervision. Anything could have happened to them. Don’t you care what the parents think about the school? I thought you were the one who wanted to make money in this place? Where do you go to all the time anyway?”
“I’m getting teaching material for the school. What do you think? You have to know what you’re doing when you teach them not like your young Fiata who doesn’t know a thing about what to teach them.”
“I give her the notes that I help you prepare every day.”
“Pah. You can leave if you want. I don’t need you.”
The veins in his temples were bulging out and his eyes were like headlights, round and bright. Buggy had never seen the normally smiley man so angry before. There was a different side of him and it was scary to discover.
“I’m the one that’s been helping you.” Mannie dismissed him with a wave of his hand and walked away.
Buggy went to his room in the school and rested on the carpet, letting his pistons calm down. When his breathing eased, he closed his eyes and dreamed of the days when he, Luca and Tina used to work in her nursery together. Although the work they did was simple and easy and sometimes boring, he had friends to talk to and laugh with and didn’t feel so exhausted every day. Was it all worth it just to have his own business?
***
“My engine is not working so well anymore. I need a weekend away.” Buggy told Mannie one Friday afternoon.
“I need you to help me paint the new room.”
“I’m going to my friends, Tina and Harvey. They said I could come anytime I wanted. I’m not helping you.” The man could manage on his own for once.
“I’ll cut your money.”
“Go ahead,” Buggy said as he drove off.
On the way there, he worried about his decision though. Maybe he wouldn’t have enough for the next installment for the building. But soon he was by his friends and his worries were temporarily forgotten.
Tina and Harvey were thrilled to have Buggy over. Buggy and Tonca hit it off and spent many hours driving slowly around the farm, enjoying the fresh air and Tina’s wonderful plants.
The weekend went by way too fast.
Sunday morning was warm and there was a gentle breeze blowing the flowers and trees. Buggy rested happily under Tina’s fruit trees. The scent of oranges, lemons, and flowers eased his restless spirit. He thought hard about his last few months in Motoland. Even though he was pursuing a dream, deep inside, he hadn’t been happy. He had no inner peace and felt increasingly alone. The fellowship of friends he enjoyed last time in Motoland was missing. Had he pushed them away? In a way he had.
Tina drove over to the pensive Buggy with her usual concerned look. “How are you really doing, Buggy?”
“I’m not right, Tina. I don’t have peace inside.” His thoughts just tumbled out.
“I’ve noticed. What’s bothering you?”
“I’m not sure.”
Tina remained quiet for what seemed like a long time, watching the trees and the distant hills.
“You know what I know. If you’ve stopped listening to God and are going your own way, sometimes the peace goes away.”
“I’m beginning to realise that. I felt wrong about getting involved with Mannie from the beginning, but he was my only chance to help me start my business.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, there was no other means of getting money to pay you.”
“But you didn’t give God a chance to provide.”
Buggy thought carefully. “What do you mean?”
“Since I’ve let go and trusted Him, he has blessed my nursery.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I don’t stress so much about my bills. I know that God wants to give me my dreams. I don’t pursue them at the expense of my relationships or even my happiness. Then they lose their lustre. Maybe God was warning you in your heart about Mannie but you didn’t want to listen.”
Buggy felt like his spiritual headlights lit up with realisation. He’d had this niggly, icky feeling about Mannie right from when he wanted to come to Motoland, but he’d been proud and thought he knew what was best.
“I really thought Mannie wanted to help Motoland. Now, I’m almost sure he has a bad motive. He wants to make money, that’s all.”
“That’s sad.” Tina looked away. “Maybe that Motoland rule is there for a reason.”
“You mean the one about not talking to humans?”
Tina nodded her mirrors.
Buggy felt sick inside. Breaking rules for the good of Motoland was okay like when he told the cars not to use the standard petrol anymore, but most of the rules were there for a good reason. He’d been too proud to admit it all these weeks even though deep inside he’d known something was wrong.
“After all the struggle of the last few months, I don’t even want to build my shop. I would rather let God lead me to the right thing.”
“I’m not saying the shop is not what He wants. You need to find out.” Tina gazed at him, her lights bright.
“How?”
“Just ask Him.”
Tina drove inside to prepare lunch and Buggy spent some time talking to God, telling Him he was sorry for not listening to his instincts and letting his ambition get in the way. A very different Buggy drove back to Mannie’s school on Sunday evening. He was planning to resign at the end of the month and tell the mechanic to keep his money.
***
“Buggy, you have a visitor for you at Reception,” the secretary said on the phone the next day at work.
“Oh, thank you.” Buggy rushed to Reception.
Fiata was parked on a mat, her wipers moving furiously as the tears kept on spraying.
“What’s wrong?” Buggy asked, his pistons frantic again.
“Mr. Pulator fired me.”
“What? Why would he do that?”
“He says I’ve been stealing stationery and things.”
Buggy just stared at her.
“I promise you, I’ve never stolen anything in my whole life. He says I’m using it for my party business.”
“That’s ridiculous. What are you going to do? The school needs you.”
“He’s up to something.” Fiata whispered. “I can tell. He’s always out.”
“I know. Look, you’ve got to stay even if he doesn’t want you. I’ll speak to him tonight.”
***
A v
ery reluctant and tearful Fiata returned to work the following day much to Buggy’s relief. Mannie allowed her to come back as long as Buggy took responsibility for any losses. Buggy watched the relieved children gather around Fiata, talking incessantly, saying how glad they were to see her. It made up for the hurtful day before. Then he rushed off to work again, wishing he could stay and check up on Mannie.
During the week, five exercise books and ten pencils went missing. Buggy was not ready for the phone call he received at work on Friday. Fiata’s high-pitched voice was even higher and full of panic.
“Buggy, you’ve got to come to the school. Latty is gone.”
Buggy excused himself from work, most apologetic, and rushed to the school. The children were huddled in the classroom whispering, looking frightened. Fiata was pacing around the school, searching in every corner.
“She excused herself to go to the exhaust-cleaning room and just didn’t come back. I’ve searched everywhere for her.”
“Maybe she ran away.” Human kids did that sometimes when they hated school. Hard to believe when Fiata was the teacher though.
“Latty? Latty is my prize student. She thrives on school. I even asked the students if she was unhappy today. They said that she was just fine. Have you seen how scared the students look?” Fiata opened the storeroom, switched on the light and searched in it for Latty.
Tonca drove up to Buggy. “Latty’s bag is still in her locker. She must be here somewhere,” he said, his lights bright with hope. Buggy looked in her bag. Her lunch, some wiper fluid, and a cloth were neatly packed in. Nothing seemed out of place. He looked sadly at Tonca and shook his wipers and Tonca drove away slowly.
“Where’s Mannie?” Buggy asked Fiata.
“I haven’t seen him for days. He’s going to say this is my fault but if he had hired another teacher as I suggested, this wouldn’t have happened. One teacher isn’t enough for all these kids.” Fiata started to wipe the tears off her windscreen again.
“We’d better call the parents.” Buggy walked through to the office area to phone them.
Minutes later, two smart and professional but very concerned BMW’s arrived—Latty’s parents. Their modern, streamlined bodywork caught everyone’s light. They were one of the richest couples in Motoland but at a time like this, they were just like everyone else, scared and full of pain. The police arrived and soon Motoland was teeming with busy police cars, searching high and low for the bright young car. Buggy tried to picture Latty’s sparkling blue body and silvery headlights. Her bumpers were always clean and polished and a pleasant smile always lit her up. She had an extra-efficient engine and always led the other students in fun and games during break time. The kid was always polite and helpful with adult cars. Who would take her and why? Buggy suddenly knew who and why and felt sick in his battery. How did he let things go this far?