The Wisest Man

She had coveted it from the first moment she saw it. Knowing it was far beyond their budget, she had stolen glances at it out of the corner of her eye at first. She could not say what it was that attracted her. Was it the low slung design? Sleek and almost caressing the road; she thought her hand could have brushed pavement edge with ease if she dangled it out of the window.

Or was it the colour? It was a bright banana yellow, not the usual colour choice for such a vehicle – dashing reds were the ‘in’ colour. Yet, it was so far removed from the sedate navy blue that her brother would have chosen. She had thought silver would have looked good, but the exuberant cheer this screamed appealed to her – it tugged at her heart and said, “take me for a spin and let’s both have fun!”

The gadgetry was not what attracted her, it mattered little to her how far it could travel or whether it could stop on a dime. The horn added its modicum to the total appeal though – short and sharp, yet sweet, almost like a bird trill. It would suffice to warn without assaulting the ears with the corncrake blast that most had.

The salesman was hovering deferentially over the family decision maker and showing him the standard items, ranging from one sturdy and ugly family sedan version, that looked like a soapbox with wheels, to a smaller, so called four-seater version, that was touted as the perfect ladies model. It looked as if the soap box might win out, it was good value for money after all. Lasted a lifetime, almost, her brother had even used her Dad’s old one for some time.

She sidled over to the yellow charmer and ran one hand over the smooth gleaming surface. One soft hand patted the bonnet as if to reassure that the choice was nothing personal.

“Jaya? Jaya Priya!”

Her father’s voice at last intruded upon her interaction and although he had raised his voice at the end, he now stood looking at her, repeating her name in a soft and surprised query.

She ran to his side and slipped her hand into his, trying to mutely reassure him that she would abide by his choice. She liked soap boxes.

Jaya always thought her father was the smartest man in the world. She also knew he gave her whatever she wanted, within the limits of his purse, he loved her sooooooooooooooooooo much. Her mother said so too, often accusing him of being partial to their youngest offspring and ignoring his sons.

So she said nothing, just stood silent as he turned to the salesman and handled the money part of it. It involved much form signing and scribbling on pieces of paper, one of them torn from a thin booklet her father withdrew from his briefcase.

Leave the details to those who understand it. Mom always says that. Coins are easy – this paper stuff confuses.

A soft sigh escaped Jaya’s lips as they came out the large swing doors, she gave one last glance at what had captured her heart and vowed to own one like it some day. Her father ruffled her hair and suggested they stop for an ice-cream at Havmor, the newest ice-cream parlor. Jaya loved the fresh fruit flavours there and the afternoon was so hot it would be a welcome treat. Even her father seemed to be looking forward to it, a grin lurked deep in his eyes which were all crinkled by the effort to hide it. She knew he too loved ice-cream however. She knew her father so well.

Two days later Jaya was not so sure of that. She had heard the double peal of the door bell. She had ignored it, even though she knew it must be announcing the arrival of the car. She had let her mother get it and heard the murmur of ‘sign here, madam.’

She had shuffled to the door, not quite eager for the soap-box, but she could not be impolite enough to let her indifference show. Her mother was blocking the half-open door and she had to peer around her.

Funny she doesn’t move. It’s as though she is mesmerized.

Then the her breath stilled, her eyes saw the bright yellow gleam long before her brain recognized her father’s generous gift. Her lungs whooped out a delighted gasp as she ran to the toy car sitting on the porch.

She could hears her mother’s faint protest of extravagance and partiality overruled by her father’s ‘if you could have seen the way she looked at it, dear. Yet she never once asked. Why not indulge her when I can afford it now?’

She paid scant attention to the explanation of how the car got there.

All she knew was that her father was the wisest man and he loved her soooooooooooooooo much.

“Dad? Will you put it in the drive way so I can pedal it down to Mala’s house?” A merry toot of the horn accompanied the impatient request.



Word count: 855 words