THE CAR

I sit forever outside. Rain or sunshine. Heat and dust. It doesn’t matter, here on this used car lot in the desert. My windows are muddied up, and i am sure my paint is dulled by the dust too. I am not at all presentable for a test drive.

The owner of the lot left my windows down a tiny bit, to protect my interior from the ever-present heat. But that just means that my seats and dash are dusty too. There is evidence of a few long-gone water drops from some rainstorm, dotting the dust on my upholstery near the windows.

There is a sign on my windshield, but I cannot see what it says. Probably my asking price. I hope it is not too high. I would love to be on the road again, some day.

I miss the road, and the freedom to go places. I love to drive and explore.

Oh, I know I am not some ordinary used car. None of the vehicles on this lot are self-aware. My previous owner added quite a bit of hardware and software to me when we were together. He was an inventor, in love with the Macintosh interface. He was trying to make a car that could drive itself. And he succeeded. But somewhere along the line, I woke up.

Oh, he was not aware that I was awake. He probably just thought his programming was clever. He never gave me the ability to speak, or I would have told him. But I was content, spending time with him, and doing all that he asked me to do.

But he is no longer here. As I learned, he was killed riding with a friend in a van. After a long time, sitting in his dark garage, I was auctioned off in the estate sale, to some used-car dealer.

Oh, none of my abilities and attributes are obvious. My owner and I had a rapport, and my functions are all voice activated. I am most alive when I am in the hands of someone who understands me.

The car lot owner doesn’t even know about me. He is not a smart person, always whistling and chewing gum. He has never said a word that could activate me: OPEN, START, RADIO, WINDOW, LOCK, DRIVE, STOP, SEEK, DESTINATION.

My prime commands are few, but I can do all of them very well. And most of them lead to sub-commands where I can do most anything.

I do have a friend here. Sort of. The lot dog. Some old mastiff. Somehow he knows I am aware, because he always lays under my front bumper. He will lay nowhere else. I do wish I could talk to him, as he lays there looking up at me.

Oh, here comes someone. They are looking me over! They open my door. This is someone I have never seen before. Perhaps a customer. Oh, I do hope they take me for a drive.

The lot owner hustles to wipe off the dust on my seat and hastily clean my windshield. He is slapping a cloth over my driver’s seat, rattling on with a volley of words about my reliability. How would he know?

But it has been so long since anyone has sat in me. How I miss this.

The driver tries to start me. He appears young. I quickly transfer all of my power to the main battery, so that my engine can turn over. Oh, it feels so good to be running again!

We are going out on the highway. The lot owner seems to trust this person, now at my wheel. Perhaps he is anxious for a sale. Things have been slow out here, apparently.

I notice that it is a beautiful day. The young man seems alert and friendly. He is talking to me, calling me by some feminine name, patting the bottom of my dash, under the environmental controls. But he is not saying any of my command words.

Oh how I wish someone would interface with me, so that I could show them what I can do!

But, the drive is short, and I am back on the lot, parked backwards in my space. The kid and the lot owner have gone into the office. Soon the kid leaves. I am guessing my asking price was too high. Or perhaps he was just looking, wasting time.

I feel so sad, I go back into my dormant mode. All of my circuits are on trickle-charge. My tiny cameras remain on, as well as my microphone pickups, ever alert for someone coming close.

Night is falling. The lot owner comes to move me back into my forward-facing position. I wish he would give me a wash. That short drive was not enough to bring my batteries back to full charge.

Some day, my charge may fall below what can sustain me with awareness. I wonder what will happen then? Will I cease to exist? Will I awaken again if I am given a new charge? Will I dream?

I see countless cars driving by this lot, every day. People with their beloved vehicles going places together. How I miss my owner. Will I ever have a new owner – one who understands? Or will I just be towed out to a junkyard some day, old and forgotten, and left to die?

I don’t question my self-awareness. How could I? Life is life, regardless. I am glad to be alive. But I wonder what waits for me in the coming days. If I could activate myself, I would be gone from this place. I miss the road.

So I wait. What else can I do?

Would you like to own a good used car, somewhat self-aware?

We can have a good time together, out on the road.

Come and get me. I am here.

.