The Waterproof Bible by Andrew Kaufman Read Free Book Online Page A

Civic
    Aberystwyth remained crouched behind a red pickup truck on the third floor of the Ultramart Parking Garage, breathing quietly through her gills, as the white Honda Civic pulled into the parking spot three cars away. She waited until the driver was in the elevator, then stood and walked to the car. She kept her arms extended, but her steps remained awkward, and she wobbled on her long green legs.
    Awkwardly kneeling at the Honda’s back right tire, she reached into the wheel well and slid her hand along the smooth curved metal. Aby had already searched the back right wheel well of every other car, truck and van that had parked in this garage during the last seventy-two hours and found nothing, so her expectations were low. She opened her gills and pushed out a sigh, but then her fingers touched something small and rectangular that was magnetized to the steel. Aby pulled out her arm, and in her hand was a small black box. It took some time before she found the tiny button she needed to push to make the lid open, but when she did she found a key inside.
    Aby let out a small cry of victory, her voice reverberating off the concrete walls of the parking garage. With the key in her hand, she approached the driver’s door. The webbing of her fingers made it difficult topush the key into the lock, but it turned easily once she got it in. Opening the door was simple, but getting behind the wheel proved more difficult.
    The distance between the front of the seat and the pedals was considerably shorter than the length of her legs. Holding on to the roof of the car, Aby curled her right leg underneath the steering column. She sat down so that her knees were on either side of the wheel. She looked at the dashboard. She ran her fingers down from the steering column until she found the ignition. She inserted the key. She turned the key towards her, remembered that she was supposed to turn it away from her and tried again. The engine started.
    Having memorized the difference between the symbols “D” and “R,” Aby successfully put the car into reverse. She reversed two inches and then stopped. Twisting out of the car, she walked to the back to see if everything was fine. It was. She returned to the driver’s seat, curled around the steering wheel and backed up two more inches. She got out to make sure she hadn’t hit anything. She hadn’t. Aby repeated this process until, seventeen minutes later, she had successfully backed out of the parking space.
    Pushing the stick from R to D, Aby turned the wheel all the way to the right, moved a few inches forward, then got out and checked the front of the car. She hadn’t collided with anything. She repeated this pattern, gaining confidence as she followed the out signs, but her progress was still punctuated by stops to make sure she hadn’t hit anything. On the down ramp there were no cars to collide with, so she made no stops. By the time she reached P1, she was able to drive thetwenty feet to the ticket window without interruption.
    As Aby approached the kiosk, she was so focused on keeping the gas and brake pedals straight that she almost forgot to cover her gills. This was something Pabbi had repeatedly and emphatically stressed. Looking around, she found nothing that would suffice and resorted to pulling her T-shirt up and over her mouth. There was little she could do about her green skin. A rectangle of paper, which Pabbi had told her was called a parking stub, was in the left-hand corner of the dash. Rolling down the window, Aby stopped and held out the stub. She kept her eyes down but needn’t have, as the cashier didn’t even look up.
    Aby handed him one of the bills Pabbi had given her. The cashier gave her other bills and some coins. A long, skinny barrier in front of her lifted up, and Aby, blinking with excitement, drove forward. It had taken her fifty-seven minutes to exit the parking garage.
    Everything Aberystwyth knew about being unwatered she had learnt six weeks