Brian Keith Owen and His Little Red Car

 

BRIAN KEITH OWEN AND HIS LITTLE RED CAR

 

Jeannett Sis Owen and Vonda Lee Owen have a little brother named Brian Keith Owen.

When Brian was in Grade School, he used to sign his homework as Brain Owen. This story will cast some doubt on his spelling of his name.

Brian had a little red car-a Subaru, I think.  The car got good gas milage and Brian/Brain was proud of it. The car met a pretty drastic end, but we won’t go there yet.

I was home on leave, I think I was still in the Navy but not sure. Anyway, I called Brian and asked if he could get off work long enough to pick me up at the Ashville Airport.

He said he could and when I landed and finally got down to the luggage area, there he was in all his splendor. Well, he did need a haircut, but I did not mention that because I was afraid that he would set me out on the highway somewhere.

We loaded up my travel bag and stopped at a little café down where the road split. One path led to Hendersonville and the other to Brevard. The Café served both roads. We went inside and ordered a big breakfast consisting of grits, hashbrowns, eggs, bacon, gravy, and toast with coffee (Lots of coffee). Well, I got my breakfast pretty quickly and felt guilty eating while Brian waited patiently for his breakfast, but I was hungry.

After some time, the waitress dropped a bowl of soupy oatmeal in front of Brian with a napkin and a fork.  He looked at me and I looked at him. By that time, the waitress had disappeared into the kitchen where she practiced looking away from the customers as she passed by their tables.

In the meantime, Brian was making sputtering sounds as he watched me sopping my gravy with my toast. After a while, he began to look a little flustered and he looked at me and said : “Did you hear what I ordered?” Well, I could not pass up an opportunity and I said: “I believe you ordered oatmeal.” He looked at me with a look of astonishment. By dam, he said. Right about that time, our waitress came out with a coffee pot and proceeded to fill coffee cups. Right before she got to our table, she looked the other way and almost ran past us. Brian took off after her and she ran into the Ladie’s room with the coffee post sloshing coffee on the floor. Brian screeched to a halt and came back to our table. I told him how good and crisp my bacon was and he actually scowled at me. “Whatsa matter?”, said I.

He looked around the room and the only help in sight was the cashier. He went up to the cashier and as he got there, she said that will be $7.75 for the oatmeal and the coffee. The hell it will, said an irate Brian.  I ordered eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, gravy and coffee. Oh, said the cashier, Sorry, that will be $11.35. I thought you were the guy that just wanted oatmeal. By this time Brian was breathing kinda hard and getting red in the face. “Do you know where my waitress is said Brian. Oh, yes, that’s Edith, she is our best waitress. She just finished her shift but if you want to leave her a tip, I will give it to her tomorrow.

I didn’t recognize Brian then. His hair stood straight up on his head, and it looked like he had grown fangs sorta like a vampire or a wild boar. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote out what he had ordered and told the cashier; “ Can you have the kitchen fix me this breakfast? Of course, said the cashier. It will take a little while; we are having a shift change. You must be hungry today huh, what with the oatmeal and all.

Brian came back to the table huffing and puffing but it looked like his fangs had receded a little and his face looked less contorted. He watched me finish up my breakfast. I asked him if he was going to eat the oatmeal and I got a mean glare. Hey, said I, I did not mess up your order. I moved the bowl of oatmeal over and took a bite but by then it was very cold. I  told him: “  I would not order oatmeal here; they don’t serve it hot. There came the glare again.

Well, I guess all’s well that ends well.  After what seemed like a long long time, a new waitress brought out his order  and things calmed down for a while until we went back up to the new cashier. She totaled up Brian’s order and said: “Oh yes, I almost forgot to add in the oatmeal. I grabbed hold of Brian as he was rushing the cashier. I noticed his fangs were coming back out. After some explaining , Brian got the oatmeal taken off of his bill and we made it back out to the little red car and sat there a while until Brian calmed down. I asked him if he had ever had his order messed up before and there came the glare again.

Brian wanted to know if I wanted to accompany him to the Asheville flea market. I told him that I thought he had to get to work and he said that he had called in and taken the entire day off.

We took our time at the flea market looking at the wide variety of peppers, Carhart shirts, and guitars.

Meanwhile back at my Daddy’s place on Diamond Creek Road, Thelma was pacing the floor and wondering why Brian had not dropped me off. Then the phone rang and someone, I forget who, called Thelma and said: “Doesn’t Brian have a little red car?”

Yes, said Thelma. Well, a murderer escaped from Craggy prison and the news just said that the murderer had hijacked a little red car, a Suguru, I think.  I am sure it was not Brian’s, but I thought I would let you know.

Well, all hell broke loose. Thelma called the Sheriff, the Highway Patrol and I think maybe the FBI and said that Brian was way overdue from dropping me off from the airport. They put out an APB for Brian and his little red Subaru.

Daddy said, “I know he is dead; I can feel it. We will never see him again.” Thelma calmed down and said: “Let’s not go there just yet. He might have dropped Carl somewhere else and just went to work.  So, she did the logical thing. She called Brian’s work and was told that Brian never made it to work, and they were beginning to worry because he was such a good worker.

Well, Thelma looked at Daddy and Daddy looked at Thelma and simultaneously they both said: “He is dead”. The murderer killed him and run his car off the road somewhere. She called the CIA, the FBI, the Sheriff’s of Transylvania and Buncombe county and the State Bureau of Investigation and ordered them to look off the roads from the Asheville Airport. She called the hospitals and the morgues and asked if Brian had been brought in.  All the law enforcement people told her that they would find him and his little red car and call her. Everywhere you looked police cars were running up and down the highways while Brian and I were leisurely perusing the Asheville flea market.

Well, to make a long story short, Brian and I finished loafing and made it to Daddy’s place. Funeral plans had been made, and Thelma was trying to determine what to put on Brian’s tombstone. She almost fainted when we pulled into the yard in Brian’s little red car. “ How did you get away from the murderer?  she asked after she had calmed down. Daddy looked at him and said: “We figured you was dead.” Thelma asked if she could fix him a warm bowl of oatmeal.

Well, the little red car was jinxed from then on. Brian lived up on a hill off Calvary Road. His house sat on top of the hill and the road down was really steep. One day Brin was working on the red car and had the hood up with tools spread around. He leaned over the front of the car, and it slipped out of gear. So, there went the red car heading for the bluff and there went Brian after it trying to chase it down. The car won the race and went off the steep bluff into a patch of cane at the bottom of the hill. It was not good for anything after then. Brian refuses to buy a red car to this day. He quit eating at the restaurant where they messed up his order. I could tell you about some of the food orders that have been messed up over the last several years. He could order a pizza ad they would serve him a hot dog. Enough about that.

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FIN