Visions - In my Minds Eye. by ARTHUR HOWE (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📖

a slim hand, with brightly red-varnished nails, reached around the door side, grabbing the door frame.
The door closed and Sakkie could see for the first time, the Occupant in full glorious Technicolor.
To say she was beautiful was the understatement of the century, Sakkie thought as he admired the slinky curves that made up the body of the driver.
Sakkie looked up to the face of the driver to see what every man always dreams of.
The hair colour was not natural. No-one could have hair as brilliantly Black, no, reddish-black as that. She must have spent a fortune on cosmetics as well, judging by the beautiful jaw-line, perky little upturned nose, and such a beautiful mouth. Her eyes, although shaded by dark black sunglasses with little gold labels in the one corner, glowed, almost green, from behind the frames.
My God, he thought, she’s absolutely gorgeous! In fact, she looks a lot like My Magdalena did when I first met her, right down to the hair, the painted nails and the leather catsuit she eventually burst out of.
Sakkie’s mind slipped back to the early days of High School when he’d first met Magdalena and been overcome by her sheer beauty. Oh how time changes many things. Yes Sir! Twenty years and two hundred pounds later…….
“You got a problem Big-Boy?” the Stranger asked, smiling to herself as she approached with long, elegant strides to where has was now leaning against the Pick-up.
Magdalena had called him “Big-Boy” too, way back then, when she was still interested in the physical side of their relationship. Over the years, this had petered out to almost nothing except maybe for his Birthday or for Xmas when she would “do her duty” urging him to “hurry up and finish” the second he’d climbed over her bulging belly, and positioned himself, hoping to actually penetrate through the layers of accumulated fat.
“Seems she eventually went and died on me, just ground to a halt” Sakkie replied.
“Well, let’s go and take a look under the bonnet then shall we, Big Boy?”
There it was again, “Big-boy.”
“Big-boy,” where does she come with that? He smiled and wondered as she slid past him, standing at the front of the pick-up.
“Why don’t you pop the hood and let me take a look” she said.
Obviously she’s an import too, thought Sakkie listening to her accent and wondering if it was American or Canadian. Probably American, reasoning that only American’s call the bonnet a “Hood.”
He reached under the dash and pulled at the bonnet release lever. He walked to the front of the pick-up to find that the Stranger had already rolled back her tailored leather sleeves and was fiddling around under the air filter.
She withdrew her hands and said “ Give her a turn and lets hear how she sounds.”
Sakkie went back to the cab, positioned himself in the drivers seat, and turned the ignition key. The engine turned as the starter motor strained against the already tired engine. He could hear the spark plugs trying hard to ignite the fuel. A splutter, a cough, and then an almighty metallic grinding sound brought the engine to its final resting place.
“I’m sorry but I think you’ve dropped a valve. Sounds pretty dead to me” the stranger apologised, now standing next to the drivers window, giving Sakkie a bit of a shock.
“I think I’ve seen the last of her, she’s eventually given up the ghost!” he replied. “They certainly don’t make them like that anymore. I doubt your fancy little electric motor will still be running twenty years from now,” he suggested. “It’s such a pity that these things just fade away, eventually”.
The Stranger smiled.
“Wouldn’t it be fantastic if you could just turn back the clock and everything could be just the way it was, way back then?” Sakkie smiled, trying hard to console himself. “Ja……. The things we’d do differently knowing what we know today………”
He sudenly had visions of Smiling Solomon, standing next to the fence in the morning, wondering what had happened to his lift.
“How far are you going” she asked.
Sakkie told her he was a few kilometres further down the road, “ But don’t worry yourself, someone will be along soon and I can scrounge a lift” he suggested.
Sakkie realised he was grinning from ear to ear and must have looked like some sort of pervert, his eyes focused on her ample, pert breasts pressing hard up against the fine leather suit she sported.
She smiled, and told Sakkie to “Hop in” to her vehicle, which he did without any further argument after grabbing his haversack, the car keys, and his pack of Texan cigarettes.
He checked his watch as he slid into the deep leather bucket seats of the fancy imported Hybrid. It was ten past six and Sakkie calculated that he’d still be home before six thirty, in time to fix Magdalena and himself some supper and then start making a few phone calls so that he could get his Pick-up off the road and back to the farm.
“So what brings a stranger like you out to these parts?” asked Sakkie, trying to make small talk.
“I’ve been here for a few days now, just gathering some samples” she replied rather curtly as she pushed a button on the dash of the vehicle. The engine hummed into life, its unique whirring, totally detracting Sakkie from the rest of the conversation.
He closed his door and the sound of the engine faded to nothing.
Sakkie relaxed in the luxury of the seat wrapping around his body.
He noticed a clean, almost metallic, chemical smell coming from the car. Unlike his car which at best, smelled a bit like a pile of fish heads that had lain in the sun for a few days. Comes with the territory, he thought.
He was suddenly tired, very tired and he closed his eyes, thankful for not having to make any more small talk with this very obliging, beautiful stranger.

Sakkie opened his eyes, slowly.
I must have dropped off, he thought. He looked to his left expecting to see the stranger sitting in her left-hand drivers position. Sakkie only saw the passenger door of his El-Camino Pick-up.
Sakkie sat up with a start.
He looked forward and saw that he was sitting, parked, under the carport, right there at his house.
He looked at his watch and saw that it was 6.38.
I must have been dreaming, he reasoned as he realised that not only was he sitting right there at home in his car, but that the engine was purring away quite beautifully.
He killed the ignition, waited ten seconds, and then restarted the car.A smooth purring sound came from the car, just like when he’d bought it way back then!
The bright halogen porch light suddenly went on, almost blinding him, and there, standing in the doorway, was Magdalena, arms folded across her chest. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but imagined she was giving him one of those looks - a look that might just kill a mosquito at 50 paces.
Now I’m going to get me a mouthful, he shivered, dreading the next two hours during which he’d be interrogated for all the detail, right down to the last second.
Sakkie stepped out of the car and stopped dead in his tracks.
The Pick-up’s old faded duco was not only shining like a new pin but as he glanced back across the length of the car, he noticed that all of the old dings and dents that had accumulated over the years, had just gone. The bodywork was like it had just come off the showroom floor.
He Glanced back at his fishing Boat, Magdalena. The once faded paintwork was now shining, proudly reflecting the light from the porch.
The light spilled over into the adjacent field and Sakkie could make out two things. One was his old Massey Ferguson Tractor hitched closely to the long trailer. He’d unhitched the trailer after the fire and sold the frame to a local scap merchant along with what remained of the burned-out Tractor. The second was the wheatfield. This morning, like every other morning since the big fire, Sakkie had averted his eyes from the burned out fields with their crop of weeds and invasive Port Jackson trees. Sakkie blinked several times and rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. The wheat stood tall and proud, dancing in the light breeze that caught the bulbous, golden heads.
Sakkie was speechless and stood there scratching his head before he realised that his Wife, Magdalena, was standing right next to him.
“And where have you been, my Darling, I’ve been quite worried about you?” she said softly to him. “You know I hate to be kept waiting, specially after I’ve spent the whole day making you a nice pot roast, just the way you like it” she smiled and slowly reached out to take his arm.
Sakkie looked up and thought that his mind must be playing tricks on him. Maybe that ride in the hybrid car had given him some sort of electric poisoning or radiation or something and he was seeing things.
Magdalena’s arm was no longer flabby and mottled with cellulite. The hand, with fingernails now painted a bright red gloss, held his arm, quite gently.
He looked up to her face to see that not only had she taken the time to have her hair done, a deep reddish black, but that her face was suddenly firm, contoured and beautiful, just like it was, way back then!
He took a step backward and just stood there admiring the beautiful shape and form of his Magdalena, dressed in her favourite, figure hugging, glove leather body suit.
“ Come now Sakkie, don’t keep me waiting any longer, you know how I love to set the mood. The table’s all laid out, I’ve got your favourite desert, and, if you eat every last scrap, I might just have something special to relax those poor, tired bones of yours.” she said, smiling seductively, licking her lips.
“Let’s get inside” she said, taking his hand.
“I’ll be with you in a few seconds, you go inside and get things ready,” he said, still not quite believing his eyes.
He opened the door of the Pick-up as he watched Magdalena walk in long elegant strides back towards the house.
He bent down into the cab and reached across to grab his rucksack from the passenger floor.
In the darkened cab, something caught his eye as the light from the porch reflected from the shining frames.
Trapped, just before they disappeared between the backrest and the seat, was a pair of dark black sunglasses with little gold labels in the corner. Sakkie quickly put them into the glove compartment, closed the pick-up door and set off briskly for the house.
He opened the front door and set about locking up for the night.
Just as he was switching off the porch light, he looked down and noticed the zipper on his wrangler jeans was undone.
“ Hurry up now Sakkie” Magdalena called from the Kitchen. “You know how much I hate it when you keep me waiting - Big Boy!”
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes. I just want to freshen up quickly.” he replied as he walked off to the bathroom, smiling like he hadn’t smiled for a long, long time.


SURVIVOR


The phone call came as something of a shock – I hadn’t heard from Gareth in a long time.

How long? Probably four to five years. In fact, yes, it was just over four years ago when we’d had the final confrontation, which, quite frankly was the straw