Shelly's Pontiac LeMans

1974. Geneva, Illinois, The Fox River Valley

At nine a.m., Shelly backed her 1965 Pontiac Tempest LeMans out of the garage; the map was laid open on the seat beside her, and she had our route in yellow highlighter.

It felt sweet with her driving me; her hands always feel better on my wheel, soft, not callused like her husband Paul’s hands. Twenty minutes later, we merged onto I-90, heading to Schaumburg, Illinois, northwest of Chicago. Shelly is a great driver but doesn’t use the freeways often, and she has not taken me on adventures or ventured on her own outside of the Valley.

“I’ll show Paul I can drive on the freeway and later in the City.”

She’s talking to herself, humming under her breath; this will be an interesting day!

We usually shopped at Marshall’s and K-Mart at the strip mall on Highway 64, but the Glamour magazine she picked up at the A&P was open on the passenger bucket seat. There are photos of the fairly new Woodfield Mall, showcasing its three stories and circular staircases. The most shocking photo was of its ice skating rink.

Shelly placed her ice skates in the back seat, counted out $50, and then put the money and Discover charge card in her wallet.

I followed everything Shelly did. Her husband Paul had highlighted the map and handed it to her as she kissed him goodbye in the garage. She is wearing her cute capri pants and white blouse. So far, so good, she’s wheeling the car around like a pro. Yep, yep, good job, Shelly, a smooth entrance to the freeway. Gliding along together, this is going to be a great day!

About twenty minutes later, we exited the freeway, and I was pleased as Shelly wheeled into a parking spot near the front of Marshall Field and Company.

Wow, this Mall is like its own town, nothing like the strip malls or K-Mart. Shelly opened my windows a crack for air (good girl) and locked the doors. I watched her heading to Marshall Field’s, her ice skates slung over a shoulder, purse in her hand. She thinks she’ll have time to ice skate in a mall like this.

Wait, bad girl, Shelly, you haven’t even looked back at me; I’m disappointed.

**

I wait patiently, quietly watching the parking lot and the women coming and going. Oh! I like that one over there; her yellow hot pants and navy blouse tied at her waist; hmm, she has on a push-up, I can tell! It’s getting hot out here; I hope Shelly comes back soon.

We’ve got another looker over there, hair to her waist, bell bottoms flaring out, dragging on the ground. Yeah, she’s hot in her fancy flat, gemmed sandals with her hot-pink toes peeking out from the bellbottoms as she walks. Wow, those pants are tight, perfectly hugging her rear. Whew, no wonder it feels so warm now! Hot shoppers and lots of sunshine.

The women talk about lunch as they head from the parking lot to go into the mall. Some of them pass so close to me that I feel their body heat. What kind of food is in there? Shelly must be eating, too; she’ll be hungry if she walks all around. Is she going to shop and then ice skate?

**

“Wow, this car is a beauty, huh.”

The two young men are walking around me, commenting on my tires, the arrowhead on my vinyl seats, how great bucket seats are, and my paint color. I can see you! Get away!! Ugh, one of them is running his fingers over the paint! Get away! You are going to leave fingerprint smudge on me!

He jumped back as the car shivered. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“The car shivered when I touched it!”

“Go screw yourself, I’m not falling for any of your horror crap. Let’s go inside and check out the mall.”

Yes, go into the mall and get the hell away from me! You wouldn’t want anything worse to happen, would you?

There she is! Shelly is coming…wait, where is she going? That’s the wrong way; I’m parked over here. She is frantically eyeballing the parking lot, shading her eyes with a hand. I am a popular model, and so is my red color. Obviously, she can’t remember where she parked. Aisle twenty-four, Shelly, over here! I will her to come toward me, but she is distraught. Oh no, where are her ice skates?

Turning, turning. She’s heading back inside the mall, maybe going back for the ice skates... how can you forget ice skates, for crying out loud? Shelly, you parked me in aisle twenty-four! At least she came out the right door of the mall.

Here she comes again, with her ice skates... and a guy. Who is that guy?

Don’t make me angry, Shelly. Get rid of him! Listen to me, I am telling you where I am! You don’t need that guy's help.

She is pointing, and he motions for her to wait on the curb. He is walking up aisle fifteen, then the next; up and down he goes as Shelly shakes her head. Stupid Shelly should have stayed home.

A blaring noise begins, and I giggle as they look around to see where it is coming from. I know. They are walking together now, down aisle twenty-three. I see them coming up near where I am parked. I begin flashing the headlights. The blaring continues.

“Oh gosh, it’s my car alarm making all that noise! My husband had it retrofitted. How embarrassing.” Shelly is blushing.

I turn off the headlights.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It helped you find the car, although it’s hard to say what activated it. Here’s your keys; push that button, and it shuts off the alarm.”

“Wow, I forgot about that. Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s been my pleasure. Fabulous car you have there. Hope you come back to shop here again sometime soon.”

“I will! I loved it. I got to go ice skating in a mall! Thank you so much for helping me!”

**

All right, Shelly! I turned on my alarm to help you. Next time, look back at me when you park; note the aisle and direction the front of the car is facing. It’s our secret; Paul never has to know, so don’t mention it because I liked our adventure today. Now, get us back to my garage safely.