9. Anne Theft Auto

Chapter 9: Anne Theft Auto

One of the great rites of passage for us teenagers is the moment when we can finally learn to drive. That freedom to go anywhere, limited only by the road and your ability to navigate it. More than anything, it's that first step into the world of adulthood.

And, unfortunately for me, it was still nearly two and a half years away.

Which, if you think about it, is really unfair! They trust us to operate bikes and skateboards, which, in my opinion, are far more dangerous vehicles! At least in a car, you're protected! It's discrimination against teenagers, I tell you. I mean, if I'd had proper training, I wouldn't have caused that massive pile-up on the go-kart track at Knobb's Berry Farm. Really, it's in grown-ups' best interest to start teaching us to drive as early as possible.

So, imagine my surprise when I asked if I could drive Bessie and HP actually said yes! I wasn't actually sure I'd heard what I did at first, and was all set to argue, but it was true. He really was willing to let me drive. In fact, he'd even tried to teach Sprig, and he's significantly younger than me.

Of course, there was a catch. Before I can drive, I have to read Bessie's manual. And I'm thinking "what's there to read? How much about a snail is there to know?" Turns out a lot. The manual is thicker than all my school textbooks combined. My eyes were already glazing over before I even cracked the thing open.

Frankly, I don't see what's so important. I didn't need to read a manual to use my phone, I leaned by doing. Same with my laptop back home. Practical experience is the real key to education. At least it's been for me. The trouble is, when am I going to get to have any if HP won't let me near Bessie's reins until I slog my way through this doorstopper?

Window of opportunity! Hop-Pop's giving Polly a bath, and knowing Polly, that's gonna be an all-day affair. Which means I have the perfect chance to take Bessie for a little "practical experience" if you know what I mean.

Okay, so it's technically a felony, but if we get her back before HP notices, has a crime really been committed? Don't answer that.

Talking Sprig into joining me was pretty easy, all it took was the promise of a stop for swamp slushies along the way. And so, the two of us hit the open road.

Handing Bessie was actually pretty easy. There's no steering wheel or pedals or PRNDL (yes, I know that's not what it's called, but it's somehow easier to remember for some reason). Bessie does pretty much all the work, you just have to handle the reins. Honestly, I wasn't sure why HP was so insistent on me reading through this monstrosity of a manual when it's this easy!

Now, you'd think a snail would be slow, but Bessie can really peel out on the straightaways. We even sent Mrs. Croaker spinning out on her ladybug-car-thing! Sprig mooning her afterward seemed a little much (Okay, he didn't actually expose his bare butt he just sorta thrust it out and played it like a bongo drum… what do you call that? A quarter-moon?), but hey, gotta live in the moment, am I right? And yes, we did stop for swamp slushies, which are pretty good, so good that I refuse to guess what horrible things are actually in them.

Eventually, though, I got tired of ordinary road traffic. I was ready to see what this vehicle was really capable of. It was time to take this baby off-road. And that's what we did! Over hill and dale, through the mud, down a steep forest embankment… it was exhilarating! For the first time in my life, I felt truly free!

But I think we broke Bessie. When we came to a stop, we couldn't get it started up again. It had retreated into its shell. I guessed it was out of fuel or whatever… what did snails eat, anyway? Probably leaves. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to want anything we had.

It was time to face facts. We were stranded in the middle of a forest, far from home, with a broken vehicle and we had no idea how to fix it. There really wasn't anything to do at this point but admit defeat and have one of us go for help. We were going to get in trouble… a lot of trouble… but it was better than starving to death or being devoured by a forest predator. So, I sent Sprig back to Wartwood (because, face it, he had some idea where he was going) while I stayed with Bessie. Which leaves me with nothing to do for a while. Nothing except writing in this journal and… reading Bessie's manual.

I figured, not like I had anything else to distract me. Might as well.

The start was not promising. It started off describing Bessie's birth, but immediately went off on a tangent about leaves, which led to a tangent about caterpillars, which led to a tangent about the town clerk, which led to – well, you get the idea, right? By the time the book started rambling about how tying an onion to your belt was the style at the time of writing, I knew I was never going to be able to finish thing.

Sprig's been gone for a while. I'm not sure just how far we are from town, but it must be quite a bit if he's bene gone this long. I hope he didn't run into any kind of trouble.

I know I said that there was no way I was ever going to finish this book, but as time wore on, I found myself going back to it in spite of myself. And et me tell you, it really picks up in the later chapters. I was on the edge of my patch of my dirt all through the epic auction scene. I feel like I'm really getting to know Bessie… her experiences, her hopes, her dreams and aspirations. All this time, I've been thinking of her like I think of my bike, or dad's delivery scooter, or the minivan… a thing. But she's not a thing, she's a living thing… she learns, she grows, she loves…

I've also been absent-mindedly munching on leaves for the last few hours, so that's going to wreck my digestive system later. Especially since I don't know what kind of leaves they are.

Anyway, I finally found out the reason Bessie had retreated into her shell; we were being stalked by a whatever you call a big group of wild hedgehogs. And I was pretty sure these guys couldn't be bought off with a chili dog.

I quickly skimmed the book to see if I could find a way to get out of this situation. And it turns out that was actually the right thing to do, because I found out that Bessie has an activation command. All you have to say is "Bessie, things are getting' messy" and then hold on for dear life, because she takes off like a snail out of hell! We still had the problem of shaking the hedgehogs (these things really gotta go fast) but it turns out that if you feed her a certain type of berry it makes her slime trail extra slimy, slimy enough that the hedgehogs lost all traction were shaken for good.

Well, now that I had finally gotten Bessie going again (and knew how to treat her right) it was time to take her home and hope to frog that Hop-Pop didn't notice we were gone.

On the way, I found out just why Sprig hadn't gotten back yet. He had hitched a right with Mrs. Croaker – yes, the same Mrs. Croaker he quarter-mooned earlier – and she was driving along at a pace akin to a turtle… with arthritis… on Valium… which would've convinced me that old people drive the same in every dimension, except the second I picked Sprig up, she took off like a Tokyo drift racer. That woman is a master troll. I am in awe, and I just hope I can be that cool when I'm her age,

By the time we got back, HP was still giving Polly a bath. I couldn't believe it! We'd actually gotten away with grand theft snail and aggravated shenanigans. The perfect crime!

You'd think after all of that excitement, I'd be ready to just eat dinner and relax, but one: I filled up on leaves, and two: I think I wanna spend the night with a good book.

I did it.

I read the whole thing. All of it. It is burned into my brain. I am Bessie, and she is me. We are one, body and soul. Bessie is love. Bessie is life. Bessie is all.

{reads above]

Whoa. I was out of it last night. Also, most of the morning. I'm not sure what possessed me to read the entire manual in a single night. Maybe it was the fact that I send most of it on the toilet trying to pass all those leaves and I had nothing else to do.

Also, HPs been pretty edgy around me all day. Wonder what I did that spooked him… it's all kind of a haze.

Anyway, moral of the story: Bessie is a noble, beautiful creature, and don't just eat random plants.

A.N.: Can you spot the Suite Life reference?

Schweenieboy: It'd be kinda neat if they made a Bessie's Manual (like the real version of Journal #3, which I own). So yeah, I could see myself reading that.

Team Gophers: This fandom really loves to predict horrible things happening to its characters, doesn't it?

Jose: I headcanon that the kept a smaller Zapapede (like the ones they use as tasers in Newtopia) on hand in the future.

Next: Breakout Star