Genevieve
Copyright© 2023 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 5
The driver is required to build their own car.
No commercial builds.
I couldn’t go buy one ... I couldn’t ask Genevieve to build it. I was going to get my lily white hands dirty ... and YES ... I was going to build one. Watching the reaction of the spectators convinced me. This was going to happen. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the trend went global. The next thing that would be happening would be the promoters for the Belle Isle Grand Prix asking our group to put on a pre-race race ... I’d even make book on it. The little cars are pure fun. Affordable fun.
Gen was going to build a new car ... the guidelines outlawed her car.
She used the engine, transmission and driveline from a Honda Sport 90 ... it has a four speed driveline ... and 18” wheels. Illegal.
“Heck,” she said, “Hoist by my own petard.”
She’s 10, David. 10! Where does she learn this stuff?
“I read, Daddy.”
Startled, David asked, “What?”
“Daddy ... you are losing it ... You asked me, Where does she learn this stuff.”
“I spoke?”
“Are you feeling okay?” she moved towards him. “You look a little flushed. Let me feel your forehead.”
Suiting words with action, she touched his forehead ... her hand was surprisingly cool.
“You have a fever ... I’m putting you to bed. I’m making chicken soup.”
“No ... I’m okay.” He shrugged off her hand.
“Choice, Daddy ... bed or I call Doctor Grost ... choose.”
“Brat!”
“Which? Bed with chicken soup or Grost with a needle?”
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