"Always Kamma"

Here it goes...my first fiction posting. This is a work in progress. I am trying to find ways to count down 350 words and adjusting dialogue. -Virginia.


"Always Kamma"

"I don't know what I am doing wrong," sobbed Kamma to the Indian mechanic behind the grease and oil stained counter. "I only use the highest octane gas and it still breaks down." His dancing brown eyes studied her. Aleem knew she was genuinely distressed, after all, this was her fourth broken down car in two years.

"If you like, I teach you car care," he offered to Kamma.

Her whimpering blue eyes locked onto his, "My mom always relied on mechanics to fix her cars and my Dad, well, I never remember him going to a mechanic. He drove the same car for twenty years; it was the first car to break down on me."

"Yes, your Dad is most excellent car owner. He treats his cars well, no?"

"Mom always said that he spent too much time and money on his cars and not enough on her." Aleem handed her a cup of the garage's coffee. Kamma's nose crinkled as she smelled it; her mouth contorted as she tried to drink it. "Disgusting!"

"Someting wrong?"

"It just doesn't smell or taste good."

"You prefer coffee house brew, no? My coworkers like dis Folger's." He replied while readjusting his turban. Kamma was fascinated by its colors: one band was canary yellow and the other was dark emerald green with canary yellow and ruby magenta flowers. She thought this was an odd contrast in lieu of his ecru shell jacket, fallow-beige shirt and pants, and typical black steel-toed work boots. If he wasn't wearing a turban, she would have thought Aleem was a second-generation Indian who was Americanizing quite well.

"If you like, you borrow my car today. I fix yours and you pick up later."

"Thank you!"

"Come back at six, ok?"

"Thank you Aleem," Kamma accepted the key and left for her salon appointment because her black roots were peeping through her bleached-blonde hair and her amethyst nail polish was chipped.


Straight up six, she returned Aleem's car. "Your car is a dream. The AC smelt like island air and the driver's seat felt like a fluffy cotton ball I would use to remove my eye makeup. I never felt any potholes although I know drove over several. How can I get a car like that?" He could hear the eagerness in her voice, now, he could teach her.

"Foremost, I always servant to car. Then, only good toughts and comments for car." Aleem watched her eyes look towards her nails; she rubbed them against her cashmere sweater to remove a piece of lint.

"I do service my car; I bring it to you when I have a problem."

"Yes, yes, I am grateful for business. You do not undertand me." Aleem paused and finger-coiled his black mustache into a u-shape. He knew that she needed to understand that her energy affects her car's attitude and performance. "Why color hair?"

"I want to be pretty and I have to look better than my friends."

"Car same ting. It needs shiny paint because it feel better, run better."

"You think cars have feelings."

"I know dey do." He said while shaking his head so hard that it nearly caused his turban to fall off. "My car runs great because it know I love and respect it, always." He paused to see if her red aura had changed. "A car must know you care and tink of it. You care for yourself by going to salon, right?" Kamma grinned. "You have new manicure, right?" She nodded yes. "Well your manicure is like cleaning de rims of de tires. You remove all hangnails and dirt and make nails shiny. Washing rims removes dead bugs and dirt and makes rims shiny. De car feel good, drive good."

"Have you been drinking Aleem?"

"No, no never drink at work. Look, do somting nice for car and I give you twenty percent discount on today's work and free fluid check next week."

"Well...I think you're crazy but I could use $100 for a new pair of K12 heels, so, deal."

Kamma made an appointment for a fluid check and left for home. "I wonder what nice thing I can do? If dying my hair is like a new paint job and a manicure like a rim wash...what would be the equivalent of painting my nails? I got it! I have to make the tires shine! Kamma stopped by Mercury's Auto Supply for Armor All.

The next morning, she first washed the tires and rims; then, she buffed Armor All into the tries. They gleamed in the spring sun and appeared younger, plumper. But there was something wrong...the entire car didn't sparkle. So after she finished her morning Whey smoothie, Kamma took her car to a hand wash that also had a coffee house. She spared no expense; after all, she could say the car's Works Package was like her getting a full body massage. She watched from the cafe as the workers buffed the wax into the paint with a fresh white cloth. Kamma thought, "It should feel better; a hot oil body massage always rejuvenates her." When the workers were done, Kamma thought the car's grill smiled.

"Well, I did something nice," she said to the car while getting into her seat. "Wait!" There must be a mistake...this seat is too comfortable, it's soft like Ameel's car." She opened the glove compartment and looked at the insurance papers, "Yep, you're mine. Let's go." Her seat was comfortable that she wondered, "Is this what babies feel like when they are in the womb--all free from danger?" It wasn't until she pulled into the driveway that she realized she hadn't felt any potholes. "Wow! Ameel is right; you have feelings. I can't call you 'it.' You need a name...Prita!"

As Kamma ran her hand along the dashboard, she noticed that it was already 4 p.m., "Oh no, I am about to miss Runway!" She dashed inside, tossed the keys on the coffee table, grabbed a mango, and plopped down on the couch. "Just in time!" She needed the camaraderie of other people who adore fashion; it was like gas in Prita's tank, it made Kamma zing.

The show ended, "If Prita has feelings, then she must get lonely by herself in the driveway. What can I do that would cause her to feel like she has friends?" She was pondering on Prita's dilemma when an old TV show, Knight Rider, began. She heard KIT the talking car speaker to its driver. "I wish Prita could talk to another car. That's it! She could watch episodes of Knight Rider, at least she could have some entertainment."

Kamma carried her Samsung 50 inch Plasma HDTV, her DVD player, and speaker system to the garage. She programmed the DVR to record the all-night showing of Knight Rider so Prita would not feel lonely. Then Kamma pulled Prita, who had spent her previous months in the driveway, into the garage. All of a sudden, Kamma felt as if a positive energy was radiating from her. "Good night Prita, my dear one. Tomorrow, we will go see Ameel."

They were on their way to Ameel's when another car almost hit them. Kamma wasn't for sure, but she thought she felt the car, on its own, swerve.

"Good morning," greeted Ameel, "How are you?" He didn't really have to ask because he noticed that Kamma's aura had changed from red to turquoise.

"The strangest thing just happened. I could swear that Prita kept another car from hitting us."

"Who's Prita?"

"That's what I named my car."

"Oh, very good."

"I was wondering if you could check her fluids and give her a tune-up? I figured that if I take vitamins everyday to keep me healthy, then, Prita needs something to help her stay strong." Aleem smiled.