High Mileage

by JG Faherty
"So, whatchya think?" Bob Harrison opened his beer and took a sip, a cat-ate-thecanary smile on his face.
Sid Chambers felt a twinge of jealousy, but didn't let it show. Instead, he gave a low
whistle. "Sweet."
"Yep, picked 'er up yesterday. The W-9. Dealer gave me a great price, too. Knocked
six grand off for the trade in."
"No foolin'? That much?"
Sid couldn't believe Bob had gotten that for his W-5; hell, it was ten years old. He
leaned down and grabbed a beer out of the cooler Harrison had sitting on the
garage floor. The temperature outside was already approaching ninety.
"You oughtta think about getting rid of your old clunker, Sid." Bob nodded his head
in the direction of Sid's house, where Shelly was out in the driveway washing their
car. "My Pop used to say, 'high mileage means high maintenance.'"
Sid sighed. "I don't know that we can afford it right now, not with Sid Junior starting
college in a year." He glanced at Bob's W-9 again.
Gotta admit, it's a helluva lot nicer than mine.
He drained the last of his beer and tossed it in the trash. "Well, I gotta get goin'.
Good luck with her, Bob."
"You think about what I said. In the long run you're just costin' yourself more money
and getting aggravated by hanging on to something that don't perform the way you
want."
Sid waved without looking back as he crossed the street. But that night, as he lay in
bed, he did think about it.
High mileage means high maintenance.
He thought about it a lot.
A few weeks later
"Whoo-wee, look at you, Mister Fancy."
Sid turned around from his mailbox and found Bob Harrison standing across the
street, getting his mail too.
"Afternoon, Bob." Sid couldn't keep the smug tone from his voice, or the smile from
his face. In fact, he'd been smiling all day, ever since he signed the papers at the
dealership.

"Looks like you took my advice and then some." Bob walked over and joined Sid at
the end of the driveway.
"You were right. I figured out the maintenance costs, and I decided to do it."
"Is that a W-10?"
Sid was sure he heard a note of envy in Bob's voice.
"Yep. Hadn't even been test-driven yet. Practically right off the truck."
"Ain't that sweet."
"Comes with a ten-year warranty, too. Anything goes wrong, they fix it for free."
"Well, this calls for a celebration. Why don't you invite us over Friday night for some
beers and barbeque?"
Sid tapped his mail to his forehead in a mock salute. "We supply the burgers, you
bring the booze."
"It's a date."
He headed up the drive just as Shelly came back out of the house to get the last
bag of groceries. She smiled and waved to him.
"Hi, honey."
"Hey, babe. What's for dinner?"
Friday night at Sids place for barbeque
"Sean, please pass the potatoes." Shelly held out her hand for the bowl. Next to her,
the lanky, long-haired boy kept his gaze steadfastly on his plate.
When it became painfully obvious his son wasn't going to acknowledge Shelly's
request, Sid cleared his throat.
"Sean, pass your mother the potatoes."
The boy looked up, his brown eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring. "She's not my
mother."
"Sean!" Sid slammed his water glass on the table. "You watch your damned mouth."
"Well, she's not. So I don't have to do what she says." He threw his fork down and
pushed his chair back. "You can't make me!" He stormed down the hall. A moment
later came the bang of his bedroom door slamming shut.
Sid sighed. Ever since he'd brought the new Shelly home, Sean had been acting up.
It didn't make sense. Unlike a lot of men, he hadn't changed styles. He'd made sure
to choose a model that was identical to the original Shelly, except twenty years
younger. She even came programmed with all the memories of Sean's real mother.
So what was the problem?

"It's all right, dear." Shelly patted his hand. "He's just venting. He's sixteen. That's
what they do."
He looked over at her, found himself captured once again by the woman he'd
married. Gone were the gray hairs. Tired eyes sparkled again, and youthful skin
showed not a trace of wrinkles or laugh lines. Most importantly, gone were the
annoying habits she'd developed over the years--the nagging, the complaining, the
demanding.
"I'm getting tired of it, Shell." He shook his head. "His mouth, his attitude. And he's
been slacking off at school, too."
Shelly patted her lips with her napkin and took a sip of wine. "Well, maybe it's time
to upgrade," she said in a soft voice. "I could stop at the dealership and pick up a
catalog tomorrow."
He sighed again. "I don't know. It's like admitting I failed to bring my son up right."
She got up and came around behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest. The
feel of her young body, the smell of her fresh-washed hair, all of it combined to
make him want to forget dinner.
"It's not an admission of failure, Sid. It's no different than sending a child to a
private school, or putting him in rehab. It's something you do now so that later on
his life is better. You're helping him to make something of himself."
He closed his eyes and thought about it. It would be nice to be able to brag about
Sean the way Bob Harrison was always talking about his daughter Joanna. He'd
replaced her two years ago, and she'd been on the Honor Roll ever since. Did all her
chores, too, without a single complaint.
Sudden noise erupted as Sean turned his stereo on, filling the house with raucous
music.
Sid knew when to admit defeat.
"Pick the catalog up. We'll look at it when I get home from work tomorrow."