Short Story 'When Ferrari Dreams Come True'

When Ferrari Dreams Come True

by Milton Chu

Evelyn, his devoted late wife of more than 60 years, made him promise her several things before she passed. He agreed to all of her requests. Evelyn knew what was best for James, better than he knew himself. She knew James was a good thoughtful man--one who always placed the needs of others ahead of his own. Evelyn knew he preferred to focus on her and, in this last year, her cancer. She knew how stubborn he was, too. He never complained about any of his own medical problems; like the time he was hit by a car while crossing the street in their neighborhood. He didn’t say a word about it. It was only when she saw him wincing when trying to stand up that she knew something had happened and forced him to confess.


Evelyn, like everyone else who knew him, knew how much James loved sports cars. He would talk about them to anyone who would listen. But in life, everyone and everything else came first. In spite of the fact that he was a hard-working man and careful with money, they were never rich. James never fulfilled his dream of owning a sports car. But that was perfectly alright. Life with Evelyn was enough for him. And during their last year together, when Evelyn’s cancer returned for the third and final time, their love had grown even deeper.

“Who is going to take care of you?” she’d ask. “Promise me that you will start taking better care of yourself. See a good doctor to help with your back and knees, maybe Dr. Chu, the nice doctor who helped me. See someone about your poor hands. Get some new glasses so you can see what you are doing. I worry about you stumbling around in the dark.” Evelyn hoped for a sensible reply but James would usually just smile. “And maybe wear your hearing aid so you can hear when the phone rings. It might be a call from your brother.” This last request made James want to cry. He kept a strong face for Evelyn’s sake. He wouldn’t need to muster up that face for long. The inevitable occurred and sooner than the doctors had predicted.

After Evelyn’s funeral and the myriad loose ends were settled, James found himself with time on his hands and nothing to do-- nothing he cared to do. Without Evelyn, he wondered about his life. Was he idling away the days, drifting aimlessly without purpose? After six months, he came to the realization that he had become a sad man. A sad old man. The kind of person he always said he would never become.

One day while he was looking though the newspaper, he came across a classified ad for a Ferrari. Anytime he saw the word ‘Ferrari’ it made his heart beat a little faster and his emotions rise. The ad in the paper was one for a Ferrari being sold cheap because it was in very rough shape and in need of a complete restoration. He thought he should buy the car and try to fix it.

He thought he would begin the project by restoring the suspension and the brakes. He knew that this would be a formidable task because of the physicality required to handle and lift the heavy parts. His weak eyes might play tricks on him, blurring fine details, making him make mistakes. He might think a hex nut was a torx. He might waste hours by being unable to see how parts obviously fit together. His arthritic fingers, his badly deformed index finger, might cause him to drop small screws down holes and crevices, lost forever. That would cause almost any mechanic to cry. His worried that one defeat after another, might discourage him enough to make him give up on the restoration...

But then, he begins to win one small mechanical victory after another! Soon the hub and brake assembly are returned to their proper working order. And the work on the axle, the re-greasing and realignment, is progressing nicely, too. He notices his hands and eyes seem to be working better; cooperating rather than fighting with each other.

He begins repairs on the car’s body by searching the local wrecking yards for sheet metal which will match his Ferrari. He buys them for cheap and hauls them back to his garage where he measures, cuts, and fashions them to repair the rusted and dented panels. It’s grueling work. The arthritis in his knees and back, make it especially painful due to all the awkward bending and stooping. Gradually the body of the Ferrari takes shape. He notices that his back and knees are improving a bit too. Maybe it’s just psychological, he thinks.

To help restore the engine, he contacts the Ferrari Classiche Dept in Maranello, Italy. He explains his plight to them: He is not a millionaire and cannot afford to hire expert mechanics or ship the car to the factory’s Classiche Dept. for repair. Ferrari is sympathetic and sends the old man the documents he needs. At first, James does not understand the instructions. They are too technical and written in Italian. He studies them over and over, and little by little, he begins to understand how the engine goes together and the work that needs to be done.

He toils intensely with the disassembled engine block. There are dozens of small parts—screws and washers, nuts and bolts-- and of different sizes. He memorizes every piece and where it goes. Soon he is reassembling the crankshaft, con rods, pistons and head. He replaces all the gaskets and restores the metal back to its original beauty. Triumphantly, he brings the engine with its carburetors back to life.

Then his phone rings and he gets a shock. His younger brother has passed away. He feels a deep sorrow in his heart. He hasn’t visited his brother as he should have. There was always one reason or another to postpone and always the promise to make-up the visit. With the Ferrari freshly painted classic Corsa red, he decides to drive her to his brother’s funeral. He has trouble finding the place and arrives late. He feels even more stressed. He mingles with his brother’s children and notices that they aren’t cute young children anymore. They are middle aged. None of them gives him a warm welcome. They make small talk between themselves, but utter only a short curt “Thank you for coming,” to him .His brother’s widow looks much older too. Although she is in complete state of shock and depression, he thinks she may have a touch of Alzheimer’s as she seems to not recognize him. He feels out-of-place and shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling sad until he feels the metal key to the Ferrari. ‘Why stay if no one is interested in talking to me?’ He decides to leave.

During the drive home, he comes to stop at a traffic light. A menacing-looking black Mustang pulls slowly alongside his Ferrari. The driver of the Mustang rolls down his window and peers at Jamers through dark sunglasses. The young driver revs his Mustang’s engine challenging him to a race. ‘I’m way too old for this,’ thinks James about the prospect of a street race. But then his emotions rise up. When the light turns green, he gives the Ferrari full throttle. The Ferrari bolts forward and the growl of the engine quickly rises to a delicious shriek. When the revs climb to the red line, he shifts to second gear. The Ferrari’s back-end steps out and wiggles, but he keeps his foot buried. The Mustang fades in the rear view mirror.

Feeling exhilarated, he decides to stop for a celebratory drink. When he spots a small bar, he quickly makes a U-turn and parks in front of the entrance. He goes inside, takes a seat at the counter and orders a beer. A few minutes later, two young men come in. One of them is the driver of the black Mustang! The two men sit at a nearby table and order beers. As they drink, they look over and seem to recognize him as the Ferrari driver they lost to at the light. They seem to be talking about him. Finally, they get up from their table and approach him.

“Just ‘cause you have a Ferrari, doesn’t mean anything,” says the young Mustang driver with impudence. The Ferrari driver tells himself to not engage with him. “You got a lucky jump on me at the light. Otherwise my Mustang would have beat your Ferrari.”

Not getting a response to these verbal jabs, the Mustang driver and his friend crowd in closer, hoping to intimidate. Sensing a potentially explosive situation, the bartender, a short but burly man, cries out,” No trouble now, boys. Cool it. Or take it outside.”

Feeling uncomfortable, the Ferrari driver decides to stand up. The Ferrari driver stares at the young men. After a tense moment, the two young men blink. The Mustang driver says to his friend, “This ain’t worth it. Let’s go” and then the pair walk away. The Ferrari driver sits down at the bar again and finishes his beer. He pays the bartender six bits for the beer and leaves.

On the sidewalk outside the bar, a cute twenty-something-year-old girl wearing a short skirt, heels, and a skintight tank top walks past. She smiles and gives a wink of her eye. This confuses him. So he looks around to see who the young girl was saying hello to. But there is no one else on the sidewalk. He wonders if she was winking at him.

He hops in the Ferrari and glances up at the rear view mirror. The reflection staring back at him startles him. The face has a full head of hair—thick and dark! The eyes are bright and alive. The skin is glowing and smooth. It is the face of a young man. His face! He is a young man again! He feels faint and about to pass out. He closes his eyes and...

The old man suddenly awoke from his sleep, his body covered in a cold sweat. “Oh my god! It was a dream!” he exclaimed. He quickly put on his glasses and grabbed the newspaper sitting on the nightstand by his bed. He dialed the telephone number in the ad. “Hello,” he said impatiently, “If that Ferrari is still for sale, I’ll take it!”
The End