Old Man Ferrari

Gerry squinted as he soldiered through the back pain while easing himself into the luxurious leather seat. It hugged his aged and withering body like a glove, bringing a wry smile to his normally serious face. He flicked on his stereo and felt the raw power of the completely hidden speakers rumble, inching the volume control up, while turning his hearing aid down. He wasn’t exactly sure why the speakers were hidden, he wanted everyone to know that no expense was spared, that image was everything. “Wait till they see this” he thought to himself, as he hummed along with “Born to be wild”, he never did get to learn all those words. But there was plenty of time for that now he was retired.

He looked into the rearview mirror and stared at the 25 year old in his 65 year old body. A young woman, probably one of the secretaries Gerry thought, quickly walked past, glancing long enough to allow Gerry to get in the customary quick wink and finger point. “Ahh yeah, you’ve still got it Gerry” he declared, as if reminding himself.

There was a pretty penny to be made from dealing in people’s misery. His ruthless life in the legal profession had meant many late nights, endless meetings, weekends in the office and time away from family. But Gerry’s attention to detail when it came to charging exorbitant fees had allowed him to walk away a millionaire. He chuckled to himself as he remembered his worn out speech, "Why pay your dues, when someone else will pay them for you!" Yes, there had been a few casualties along the way, the failed marriage, estranged children, innocent convictions that were barely worth counting. But that was part of the game, and being a winner meant that someone else had to lose, anyone else.

Gerry’s pristine hands caressed the leather steering wheel, as his eyes fixated on the prancing horse emblem that seemed to give him a knowing nod. It might have been an early sign of his slide into dementia, but it would be a glorious ride aboard his latest acquisition, a demon red Ferrari California. Gerry checked his Rolex, it was time to exit in even more style than usual. The monster 4.3 litre V8 shouted in exuberance, as Gerry exited the car park with a trail of smoke and rubber, letting out an uncharacteristic cackle, not noticing his tweed beret and toupee whooshing off in the commotion. Emotions back in check Gerry eased up to a red light and the string of potential onlookers. Of course, average Joe’s didn’t have the heritage to appreciate automotive art, nor could they fathom the importance of soul trading.

Pretending not to notice the pedestrians contemplating their own failure at making an honest living, Gerry gave the engine a hard rev, overshadowing the pumping stereo. The sports exhaust let out a startling scream, sending adrenaline bursting through Gerry’s circulatory system. Wide eyed, Gerry felt his heart skip a beat, then another, then no more.