*Note to the Reader; Birthday Stories are exactly what they sound like, stories that are created and gifted to family and friends. They are short works of fiction in the raw, no copy edits, kind of like live theatre, what you see is straight from my imagination to you, pure, simple and honest and yeah, sometimes a bit weird - I hope you enjoy. RB
Inspiration is a funny thing, it can strike anyone at any time.
Ray's muse came early one morning. The first day of summer to be exact and he was happy to be out of the house even if it was just to clean the garage.
Spring had been a particularly cold and rainy one that had forced even the most optimistic and hearty Canadian into what some referred to as suburban hibernation. It was during this period that Ray and his wife had discovered The Great British Baking show. Although it was fair to say Ray was no Gordon Ramsay he wasn't afraid to try his hand in the kitchen from time to time either. He had just finished watching the episode showcasing gingerbread houses so the idea of making something extravagant was sitting in the corner of his mind for days now.
In the garage he was a bit surprised to find and old pedal car under a pile of blankets. It was one of his early high school welding projects, a poor mans motorized go cart if you will. It had a tube metal frame that was lovingly reconstructed from several broken bicycles. It was at this point the idea came to Raymond as if someone was speaking in his ear.
"Why not make a gingerbread car?" said the voice.
"A race car." Ray heard himself say.
"Good idea." said the voice.
Now, anyone that knows anything about voices knows enough to be careful when you listen to them which could explain why Ray would be spending the rest of the summer sitting on his front deck sporting a large cast that extended from hip to toe.
After a few days of laying out the patterns and building some custom cooking sheets to make the parts Ray moved into the kitchen. He spent a full Saturday inside mixing, rolling, cutting and cooking. There was flour all over the floor and molasses finger prints on the fridge, stove and just about every cupboard handle. The final piece went into the oven around 11pm that night and the kitchen was cleaned with everything put away by midnight.
Sunday arrived warm and inviting, Ray leapt from the bed like a kid at Christmas eager to start building his masterpiece. It went surprisingly well and by mid afternoon there was a miniature ginger bread car sitting at the front of the garage.
Ray stood back to admire his work, took a few paces left, then right before doing a full circle around it. He tested the steering to make sure the tires cleared the gumdrop fenders while liquorice pin stripping outlined the door panels.. He was particularly proud of the fake radiator that he made by cooking some gingerbread in the waffle iron.
Seemed a shame for it to just sit there he thought. This was something that needed to be shared, something like this needed to be in a kind of ...
"Parade!" said the voice again.
That is when the idea hit him, this was a peddle car after all. He picked up the front end of the car and dropped it a few inches off the ground. Nothing fell off, it all seemed solid, this was good. Feeling confident he tried it again a bit higher this time and with everything in tact Ray started to get excited. Before he knew it he was sitting inside the cart; his knees tucked between his arms. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but it was good.
"Maybe just down to the end of the driveway?" Ray said to himself,
About half way to the street he heard a loud bark and a rattle from the chain link fence that separated him and his neighbour; Joan and he felt his legs tighten from a sudden surge of adrenaline. He had completely forgotten about the Anderson's golden lab, Petey.
Ray cranked the steering wheel intending to go back to the garage but realized it was too late. Petey had already launched himself over the fence and was making up the short distance very quickly.
The young dog had been smelling cookies all day and that meant only one thing based on his life so far, it meant he would get a share of the bounty. The movement of the car however was something different, it was like the rabbit for a greyhound on race day. Petey paused gearing up for the chase and Ray could swear the dog locked eyes with him and said something like, "You're mine!"
Ray, immediately felt like he was part of the cookie and did the only thing he could think of to try and save himself and his creation, he had to try and outrun the dog so he began to pedal as fast as he could. He reached the street and made a large sweeping arc into the oncoming lane barely missing the oncoming car. If he'd looked up he would have seen his wife staring in disbelief and who was now trying to turn the car around and follow as quickly as possible.
"What on earth are you doing now?" she said.
Fortunately for Ray, the street had a slight decline in his current direction giving him the slight advantage for speed. Petey was catching up fast and was nipping at the rear bumper.
He would have caught up but this is when they hit the hill. A hill renowned for being shut down in the winter until the salt or sand trucks arrived. The hill that the scouts used to use it for soap box derby until the city shut it down for having too many accidents.
Ray started to pull away felling a bit better until he realized how much speed he was gaining and went to hit the brakes.
A new wave of panic engulfed him, up until this moment he hadn't thought about the brakes, why would he, he never planned to actually go for a ride after all.
About half way down jelly tots began to break away from the hood pelting Ray's face. He dodged left then right like the mighty Ali avoiding punches for the heavy weight title.
"I got this." he laughed.
Then one of the door panels fell away exposing his left side. Petey abandoned the chase at this point content with the giant cookie he now had. Meanwhile other neighbourhood dogs joined in the race, the small poodle across the road, several black squirrels showed interest and one normally elusive racoon must have figured, what the heck everyone else is here. Small pieces began to break away as the car built up speed feeling a bit like terminal velocity to Raymond. A trail of ginger bread cookie and candies now littered the pavement all the way down the hill.
Ray ended up hitting the curb at the bottom launching him into the air bringing back memories of the bridge on the Queen Elizabeth Highway as it passed near the lakeshore park. He would have raised his hands in delight if he didn't have such a bad feeling about the landing.
Summer was now in full swing, the cold rainy spring succumbing to hot muggy days and Ray was now just a passenger watching families, neighbours and friends walk down the street.
The street lights had just come on and the cicadas filled the evening with their tune.
"I'm going to have a cookie; Do you want one asked his wife?"
"No, I'm good, no more cookies for me, at least for a while." he laughed.
"How about a piece of left over birthday cake then?"
"That would be Perfect, thank you."
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