I remember my cousin Bobby and I liked to mess with our grandad. His name was Ank.
One trick we pulled on the old man was to pop a round hubcap off his 54 Pontiac and insert a few rocks. Once underway Ank methodically shifted through the gears and as the car sped up the rocks began to tumble. This created a clanging banging and annoying sound.
In the backseat Bobby and I muffled our snickers with coughing and wheezing sounds. We were satisfied with the anguish we had created for Ank. The poor old man would slow and speed up. All the while, sticking his head out the window carefully listening to the unsettling noises. We could hardly contain our merriment as Ank downshifted and rolled into Ollie's.
Now Ollie was one of Ank's oldest friends. He and Ank were old Navy buddies from the two great wars. Ollie was the only mechanic allowed to service the Chieftan. Well, Ollie poked under the hood, slid under the car, and checked the car's fluids. He reported nothing amiss and told Ank he was going to take the car for a spin around the block. We waited and began to get a little nervous. You see, Ollie was a superb mechanic and Ank had no qualms about corporal punishment. Understandably, we worried our little mischief might be discovered. Ten minutes passed before Ollie returned and as he stepped out of the car he wore a big smile and winked at Bobby and I. "Well Frank", he began, "cars OK and your boys can tell you the rest later ".
He handed Ank the guilty pebbles and keys. It was a very quiet ride from downtown Portsmouth to Jolliff Road. Of course we confessed fully and immediately. Bobby and I got a helluva good whipping with fresh switches from a weeping willow bush. As the sunshine melted into the horizon, Bobby and I promised each other to never again pull any tricks on Ank. To this day I'm not sure if my sore rear end or the realization of swift and certain justice lead to that decision.
One trick we pulled on the old man was to pop a round hubcap off his 54 Pontiac and insert a few rocks. Once underway Ank methodically shifted through the gears and as the car sped up the rocks began to tumble. This created a clanging banging and annoying sound.
In the backseat Bobby and I muffled our snickers with coughing and wheezing sounds. We were satisfied with the anguish we had created for Ank. The poor old man would slow and speed up. All the while, sticking his head out the window carefully listening to the unsettling noises. We could hardly contain our merriment as Ank downshifted and rolled into Ollie's.
Now Ollie was one of Ank's oldest friends. He and Ank were old Navy buddies from the two great wars. Ollie was the only mechanic allowed to service the Chieftan. Well, Ollie poked under the hood, slid under the car, and checked the car's fluids. He reported nothing amiss and told Ank he was going to take the car for a spin around the block. We waited and began to get a little nervous. You see, Ollie was a superb mechanic and Ank had no qualms about corporal punishment. Understandably, we worried our little mischief might be discovered. Ten minutes passed before Ollie returned and as he stepped out of the car he wore a big smile and winked at Bobby and I. "Well Frank", he began, "cars OK and your boys can tell you the rest later ".
He handed Ank the guilty pebbles and keys. It was a very quiet ride from downtown Portsmouth to Jolliff Road. Of course we confessed fully and immediately. Bobby and I got a helluva good whipping with fresh switches from a weeping willow bush. As the sunshine melted into the horizon, Bobby and I promised each other to never again pull any tricks on Ank. To this day I'm not sure if my sore rear end or the realization of swift and certain justice lead to that decision.
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