Betty's Visit

Betty's Visit

Sometimes what a person needs is a good whack upside the head.

(This is a continuation of "Barefoot Betty's Auto Repair Shop," located in my bookshelf.)

The day was a total success. Customers from near and far came to the grand opening of Barefoot Betty's Auto Repair Shop, and if first days were any indication, she'll be in business for a good long time. Now that the day is over and the garage is closed, Betty Conrad was exhausted. She could think of nothing better at that moment then to take a shower, then curl up with the latest edition of Car and Driver for the rest of the evening. However, she has a visit she that she needed to make, and a promise to herself she needed to keep.

After she walked back to the house, and briefly told her parents how well the day went, she went upstairs to the bathroom, took off her work overalls and other clothes and entered the shower. As the water struck her body and her face, she quickly thought back to the event that happened a month ago. In a way, she should be thankful, because she was totally stumped in finding a name for the garage. However, it didn't come without a small cost. But all the offenders have been dealt with, except one, and that loose end needed to be taken care of, immediately.

Stepping out of the shower, Betty toweled herself off and walked to her room to pick out her wardrobe. For what she needed to do, she might as well dress the part. She looked for something that was comfortable and allowed full freedom of movement for her muscular 5'7 frame. She finally settled on an oversized dark blue T-shirt with matching dark blue jeans. The legs of the jeans were cut mid-calf, exposing the rest of her legs and feet, just the way she liked it. She then remembered that it was getting a little cool outside, so she grabbed her blue jean jacket and put it on. Betty did a few punches and practice kicks to make sure what she decided to wear did not hinder her in any way. After finding her clothes passed the test, Betty grabbed her keys and headed downstairs.

She said bye to her parents, and reminded them to save some of tonight's dinner for her when she got back. She didn't bother telling them what her plans were tonight. They might try to talk her out of it. Betty has waited at least a month to make this visit, and she was not going to be denied. She walked in the yard to where her cars were located, the cool grass feeling pretty good beneath her bare feet. She looked at the small fleet of rebuilt cars remaining before her. It seemed like these days, as soon as she rebuilt a classic car, there were at least four or five buyers that would suddenly come out of the woodwork and make an offer. Not that she could complain too much. Two cars she rebuilt, a 1966 Corvette and a 1957 Ford had not only paid her way through college, but had made life for her rather comfortable. People are willing to pay top dollar for a classic car, but it's rather ironic that she practically had to fight to keep the four she has. These were her favorites and not for sale, until someone makes an outrageous offer that she can't turn down.

She walked past the 1963 candy-apple red Ford Thunderbird, the 1956 powder blue Ford pickup, and the 1964 red and white Corvette until her eyes settled on her 1965 blue Ford Mustang convertible. Since everything she is wearing is blue, she might as stay with that theme. Betty started the car, then hit a switch and removed the roof. It looked like it was going to be a clear night a nice night for a drive.

After fifteen minutes, Betty pulled up in front of the house. She came up the walkway and rang the doorbell. An attractive middle-aged woman answered the door.

"Well hello, Betty. How are you?" the woman said.

"I'm fine, ma'am. And yourself?" Betty replied.

"Never better. How did your grand opening go?"

"It went great. You need to come by and pick up a T-shirt."

"I'll do that, thanks. What may I do for you?"

"Is Fred home? I'd like to see him."

"Well yes he is, I'll go get him. Would you like to come in?"

"No thanks. I'll wait out here."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

After about two minutes, Fred came to the door. He froze in his tracks and his eyes became wide when he saw Betty.

"Hello, Fred," Betty said.

"Uh, hi," Fred managed to squeak out.

"Well don't' stand in the doorway, go on out and talk to her!" Fred's mother said. "You'll let the flies in."

After he closed the door, Fred slowly and gingerly walked down the steps, like a man walking through a minefield. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he faced Betty and asked, "So Betty, what do you want?"

"I think you know what I want, Fred. I just came over to collect."

"What's to collect? Everybody cleaned up the mess and apologized to you. That was a month ago."

"Everybody cleaned up the mess and apologized except you. You guys came to my garage and tried to mess things up. When I showed up, you tried to attack me. When I took care of those two guys, you took off and ran, like a coward. If I had the chance, I would've caught you and dragged you back by the hair, like I did that woman who tried to run away from me."

So that's why she's been wearing scarves and hats since that night, Fred thought. "So what do you want? An apology? Sure, I'm sorry I did it and I won't do it again. There, you happy?"

"No, there's one more thing I want to give you," Betty said.

"What?"

"A whack upside the head."

"What?"

"I would've done it sooner, but I had to get things ready for the grand opening. Now that everything's been taken care of, I needed to come over to give you your beating like I did everyone else."

Fred's mind was racing. He has been on the receiving end of Betty's punches before. The first time was when he got a little too frisky on a date with her at the drive-in some time back. When she found out it was actually a bet to see how quickly he could go all the way with her, she hit him again. He still remembers waking up from those blows, and having to make up a story so people wouldn't know a woman clobbered him.

"I can avoid your punches, Betty, I've been working out," he bluffed.

"Maybe, but I know Tae Kwon Do now. I can give you a first-hand demonstration," Betty flexed each foot, cracking her toes, preparing herself for action, while debating which kick she should use on his face.

"You're also on my property," Fred said with a sudden revelation. "If you so much as lay a hand on me, I can have you arrested. What are you going to do about that?"

Suddenly Fred's mother poked her head out the door.

"Betty, I meant to ask you about this, but I keep on forgetting. My car tends to make a funny noise whenever I accelerate. I know you're off duty and all, but could you please take my car for a little test drive?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I could. It shouldn't take too long," Betty said.

"Good. Fred, go with her."

"What?" Fred said.

"Go with her. It's dark out and you shouldn't be letting a young lady drive around by herself at this time of night."

"But mom-"

"Did you hear what I said? Go with her!"

They both walked to Fred's mother's car, a late model Cadillac. Fred had the look of a condemned man making his final walk down death row. Betty on the other hand, had a slight smile on her face. She wasn't sure how to get him away from the house, but this is working out better than she thought.

The first five minutes of the drive were spent in absolute silence. Fred was trying to think of a way of escape, while Betty was listening to the car for any possible noise that shouldn't be there. Finally, Fred spoke.

"I know what you're planning. You're going to drive to some deserted location, then we're going to have it out. Business, nothing personal, right."

"What do you think this is, "The Sopranos?' you and your gang tried to wreck my garage, my business, my way of living. This is business and personal."

"Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be religious? Isn't something like this forbidden by god or something?" Fred said.

"It's because I'm "religious' that you're not maimed or worse right now. Your friends are blessed that they got away with the bruises they did. They could have broken bones, missing teeth, or something fatal." Betty looked over at Fred. "You know, you need to take your punishment like a woman."

"You mean like a man," Fred replied, sounding a little indignant.

"No, I mean like a woman. That one woman, the one with the busted nose, resigned herself to her fate. You should too."

"You need to chill out," Fred said under his breath.

"What's that?" Betty said.

"You need to chill out, have some fun, have a good time," Fred said with bravado that he didn't have.

"Like when we were at the drive-in?"

"Yeah! Like when we were at the drive-in."

Betty looked at Fred for a moment before speaking. "Fred, are you just grasping for straws here, or are you just as stupid as you sound?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Up until the point you tried to become an octopus, I was enjoying the movie. It was actually the best part of the whole night, and you even ruined that. You pretending you're big and bad, and so macho, it nearly made me sick. The only reason I went with you in the first place was because of that movie. I didn't have any romantic ideas to begin with concerning you; I don't know where you got the idea. I won't make that mistake again."

"Okay, I'm sorry about the movie, and I'm sorry about the garage, I won't do those things again."

"I heard you the first time, but you're still going to get your beating," Betty said.

"What would your daddy say about this?" Fred said, trying a last ditch effort to work on Betty's guilt.

"Who do you think first taught me how to fight in the first place? My dad said a long time ago that there would be people like you, so he taught me a few boxing moves to defend myself when situations like this came up. It came in mighty handy too."

Fred fell silent. All his bags of tricks were empty.

They arrived at a playground, where no one was in sight. Betty got out of the car, then patiently waited for Fred to come out.

"Well, here we are," Betty said. "If you try to run away, I'll catch you, and your punishment will be much worse than it was intended. You're free to defend yourself or use a weapon if you wish if you want to help even the playing field. Those are the same choices I gave your friends." She started to flex her feet. She knew exactly what the proper technique should be for this occasion.

Fred was enraged. "The same choices? What is this, "Gunsmoke?' this isn't the old west, this is reality. And what's all this talk to even out the playing field? Why, I don't think you know what you're talking about-"

Fred didn't see end result of the front snap kick until it was too late. He stopped his rambling just long enough to see the ball of Betty's right foot land against his temple, followed by the rest of the foot impacting with the left side of his face. Fred felt the sudden impact, followed by darkness . . .

Betty caught Fred as he fell forward. His beating was going to be a little longer and a little less severe, but then the man wouldn't shut up. He should count himself fortunate she didn't aim toward the mouth or he would be the youngest man on his street wearing dentures. She placed Fred back in the car, then started it and headed back towards his house.

When Fred woke up, he thought he fell asleep for a moment until he felt the growing pain on the left side of his face. He looked up and saw his house appearing on the horizon. He looked toward his left and saw Betty calmly driving the car.

"You woke up just in time," she said. "If you didn't wake up sooner, I guess I'd had to circle around the block a few times until you came to. I just wanted to make sure I kicked you just right."

When the car pulled into the driveway, Fred couldn't get out of the car fast enough. He walked right by his mother, who was standing by the front door.

"Bye Fred," Betty said as she walked toward his mother and handed him the keys.

"Your car sounds real smooth, I didn't hear anything strange at all in the acceleration."

"Excellent," Fred's mother said. "Did you and Fred have a nice talk?"

"Oh yes, we did. Tell me, there wasn't anything wrong with your car, was it?"

The mother blushed a little. "No, I had it tuned up last week. Despite what his father and I teach him, Fred doesn't have any proper respect for women. Unless they are types that aren't respectable, he tends to treat them like your neighbor's dog. A month ago, I saw him run into the house like a scared rabbit, and he wouldn't tell anybody what was wrong. Then his friends said later that a rival gang attacked them. It made sense, except for the fact that there are no gangs around these parts. When you showed up, I put two and two together. I remembered the way you handled yourself when you went out with him, so I figured you had something to do with this "gang' thing."

"Ma'am, I never told anybody about what happened when we went out. Did he tell you?" Betty asked.

"Oh, no, no. He'd rather die. It's just that no matter how well you hide it, a bruise on your face still stands out."

"Well, he'll be getting another one in the morning."

Fred's mother offered her hand. "Thank you for teaching my son some manners. Feel free to give him a refresher course any time."

Betty took the hand and shook it. "You're welcome ma'am, the pleasure was all mine."

As she drove back home, Betty started looking forward to eating a late dinner, and curling up with her magazine. She thought about the events that happened not long ago, and couldn't help but smile, especially where Fred's mother was concerned. Hopefully Fred has finally learned his lesson, but if he didn't, she felt comforted that she has his mom's permission to come by, and if necessary, provide him with another whack to the head.

Any suggestions, questions, or advice send them to shrewsberry@juno.com.