Why You Should NEVER Let Your Car Break Down in the Sixties by Zim

The usual disclaimers: No copyright infringement intended. I love and respect the characters...and mean them no harm. :)

Why You Should Never Let Your Car Breakdown in the Sixties.



The sun had climbed high, sending waves of heat billowing towards a small car that sat stalled by the side of the road. A man in a stiff Air Force uniform was bent over the hood. Obviously frustrated, he slapped the large rag against the metal and unbuttoned his jacket. After pushing around various objects he finally slammed the hood down and began walking down the road in the direction of some stores he remembered passing earlier on. He removed the rest of his jacket, its restricting wool had sent itchy heat down
his neck. The road bent around and soon he saw neon pick fabric blowing in the wind. Hippies, he thought to himself.

The attendant eyed the handsome Air Force officer walking up with suspicion. Just then, a brightly colored bus pulled up on the road with a start, sending clouds of dust into the air. A group of people clambered out, and the man let out a sigh of relief. He recognized military uniforms, something strangely out of place in the gaudy flower child stand. He walked up to the grey-haired officer who seemed to be in charge.

"I am Lt. Jacob Carter, do any of you know how to fix an engine problem?"

He heard a gasp from the blond who had just jumped down from the bus.

"DAD!" she shouted then suddenly clammed up.

Jacob looked confused, she could hardly have been much younger than he was.

There was an awkward silence when a young girl ran up and gave a flower to the blond.

She smiled then turned to Jacob, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else," she gave a little cough at the end that startled him. It was exactly what his wife did when she was nervous.

"Maybe we could give you a lift to the nearest town?" The older man said.

"That would be great..."

"Kirk...Captain...James T," he grinned.

The blond had gone off and reappeared wearing a cute little outfit that the man calling himself Kirk obviously was amused by.

"Your turn, Colonel," she said then glanced furtively in Jacob's direction again.

It was half an hour before they all piled onto the bus. Jacob was finding the whole experience a trifle unnerving; he did not approve of the peace and love movement in the first place and riding in a bus with them was far from his idea of a pleasant day. He ended up in front with the tall silent one who had a pink band across his forehead.

"So what brings you into this area?" Jake asked.

The other did not reply but kept staring straight ahead.

"If this is some sort of mission you cannot tell me about I understand."

Hearing nothing but the purr of the engines in reply he gave up and scrambled into the back. The others were playing cards and dealt him in.

The nerdy looking one smiled at him so Jake decided to ask him, "Why were you wearing military uniforms?"

"Oh...they were costumes," was the reply after some thought.

"For what exactly? Impersonating an Air Force officer is a..."

"Court martiable offense," the blond grinned.

"And you are?"


Jacob grinned, "And I'm 'dad'. And he is?"


The next town turned out to be several miles; they had finished five rounds of hearts before pulling up at the lone gas station. He thanked them and waved farewell, hoping no-one he knew was watching. Hours later he found himself home; his wife hugged him, then demanded to know what had taken so long.

"The car broke down, and I met some odd people."


"I hope I never see them again," he smiled.

~ The End ~

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