Devil May Care

(c) Charles Edwin Price

Around the turn of the twentieth century new inventions were being introduced to consumers at an incredible pace. Country people, used to the old ways and not understanding that new machines would make their work easier, sometimes considered innovations like the automobile, the steam tractor, and the electric milker, as infernal. The ethic of hard work suggested that work-saving devices underlined the basic philosophy that idle hands were the devil's handmaiden.

Superstitious country folk made up stories about the new inventions, intimating, perhaps, that these were creations of the devil. The following is such a tale from Tennessee's flatlands-the story of a fiendish auto and the fate of one man who just had to find out what made it tick.

It was one of those hot, shimmering days in August when Miss Prunella rolled into Jackson in her brand new automobile. At first the townspeople saw nothing strange about the car. Autos were not totally new to Jackson, but there were few of them around. And it stood to reason that if anyone was going to buy one of the newfangled, horse scaring gadgets, it would be Miss Prunella.

But some thought it was strange that her car operated so quietly, not the usual chugging and backfiring associated with an auto. In fact it soon became likely to all that Miss Prunella was running on empty-that no telltale signs of the internal combustion engine were associated with her strange new vehicle.

Miss Prunella was considered a bit strange, herself, by the townspeople. Indeed, some thought she was a witch. She filled the classic stereotype of a witch. She was a very old woman, with a long hooked nose-she even had a large wart perched on the end of it. She dressed in somber, dark clothing, and her voice possessed the resonance of something between a cack and a cackle.

She lived far out in the country, away from everyone, in an old house in desperate need of repair. Some said she had a hundred black cats which roamed freely around the grounds and through the house, looking on while she mixed up mysterious potions and cast troublesome spells.

Therefore, no one really thought it very unusual to imagine that Miss Prunella was driving an automobile without benefit of gasoline. Some of the locals even came to the conclusion that the car ran by the power of pure evil-that Satan, himself, was pushing from the rear. But they were thankful, on the other hand, that loud noises were not frightening the horses.

When Miss Prunella pulled up to the board sidewalk, one brave soul remarked how much he admired her new car.

Miss Prunella smiled and said, "It's the latest. An electric." And then, as if reading his mind, she added, "It don't need no gas. It runs off a battery."

Well, that at least explained the lack of noise.

The old woman visited town about once a week to load up on supplies. She walked into the general store, where she was practically the only patron who didn't buy on credit. She didn't need it. Her father, who had died many years before, had left her with enough money to keep her in luxury for the rest of her life.

While Miss Prunella shopped, curious onlookers made a visual inspection of her new automobile. It was painted black, of course, to match her outfits. Inside, the upholstery was also black. The dashboard was filled with shiny instruments and looked quite impressive.

"Do you think you'll ever own one of these?" one man asked his farmer friend standing beside him.

"Nope," the second man replied. "I'll keep my horse. Hay costs less than gas-o-line."

The first man grinned and moved closer to the window so he could see inside the car better. Something was written in yellow letters across the front of the dashboard. He motioned to his friend. "Can you read what that says?" he asked. "I left my spectacles at home."

The second man squinted into the darkness. "It says, 'Devil May Care.'" He turned with a quizzical expression. "I wonder what that means?"

"I think it means something like 'throw caution to the wind.' Or maybe even 'do what you dang well please.'"

Both men thought that was a strange thing to write on the dashboard of one's new automobile. When Miss Prunella emerged from the store, and while they were helping her load her automobile with groceries and other supplies, the first man asked her about it.

"Oh, that," she laughed. "That's what I named my car. Devil May Care."

"I see," he replied as he opened the back door and leaned inside to place her packages on the seat. Suddenly a rush of cold air enveloped him. Outside, it was summer, hot and muggy. Inside the car, it felt like the depths of winter.

Miss Prunella suspiciously watched her volunteer helpers from the corner of her eye. When they were finished, she smiled again and thanked the two men for helping her. Then she climbed into the driver seat and silently drove her car out of town.

The two men watched as the car disappeared around a corner. Then the first man told his friend about the cold temperature inside the auto. "There's something not right about that there car," he said.

"Maybe it was your imagination," his friend said.

"Maybe it was," the first man answered as he stared off into space. "But I'm going to find out one way or the other. I'm going out there tonight and give that horseless carriage a good going over myself."

The heat of the day hung around even after the sun had gone down. The two men had traveled down a rutted country road, ten miles on horseback, when they finally spotted Miss Prunella's house looming up out of the darkness. A single light shone at the living room window.

"She's up late tonight," the first man said.

"I've heard she never sleeps at all," his friend answered. "Witches don't sleep."

The first man said nothing. Instead he dismounted, and his friend did the same. After tying their horses to a convenient tree limb, they slowly and silently stole through the thick brush to an isolated corner of the house.

Giant trees overhung the sparse lawn. Stones littered the ground. The men ma de their way around the house, being careful not to trip over any of the rocks at their feet. When they came to the lighted window, the first man raised up on his tiptoes and carefully peeked inside.

"Is she in there?" the friend asked.

"Yeah. She's sitting in a big chair reading a book."

"Well, you can bet it's not the Bible," the friend commented sarcastically.

The pair continued to work their way around the building. Finally, in front, they spied Devil May Care sitting majestically in the driveway.

A cloud drifted in front of the moon, which made the scene even more gloomy and spooky than before. A faint green glow came from the interior of the auto and gleamed through the windows.

"What's that from?" the friend asked, nodding toward the light.

"That's what we're going to find out," the first man replied. The men picked up their feet and began running toward the automobile. When they were twenty feet away, they slowed down and approached more cautiously. The friend looked back over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

Then the pair stopped. The glow inside the vehicle was coming from all directions at once-not from any single source like a bulb or a flame. Furthermore, now that they were closer, they noticed the car was filled with a light mist just like fog.

The friend put his hand on the first man's arm. "I don't think I like this very much," he said nervously. "I really do want to get out of here and come back tomorrow."

But the first man would not be swayed. He reached for the door handle and opened it a crack. Mist seeped out.

He opened the door a little more.

More mist.

Finally he gathered enough courage to open the door all the way. The interior continued to glow green as he bent down so he could get a clear view of the ceiling to find the source of the light. Nothing there.

"I'm going to get inside this thing," he told his friend.

The friend got a panicked look on his face. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Nonsense," the first man said. "After all, it's only a car."

As he stooped down to slide onto the seat he noticed, once again, the legend "Devil May Care" scrawled on the dashboard. What an odd name for an automobile, he probably thought to himself as he sat on the seat.

The friend backed away a few steps.

Suddenly the door of the car slammed shut without benefit of human assistance. The first man's eyes widened in surprise. The light turned from green to red, then to deep purple. A whining sound was heard from inside as the man's hands shot to his throat. His friend watched in horror as the mist rapidly engulfed the man inside the car; and then, in a moment, he was gone.

The friend rushed forward and tried to open the door, but it would not budge. The whining sound suddenly died down and the light inside returned to its "normal" green color. Then the mist disappeared.

A voice behind the second man made him jump. He whirled around in time to see Miss Prunella standing at the doorway of her house.

"I see your friend was not very good at taking warnings," she said as she scowled at him. "It was as plain as the nose on your face."

"W-what warning?" the friend stammered as he started backing away.

"You see," she said, "that automobile was a gift from a friend of mine in payment for all the work I've done for him over the years-a sort of payment for services rendered. Your friend should not have been so nosy. I tried to warn him with the message."

"The message?"

"Of course. 'Devil may care.' Don't get too close if you know what's good for you."

The friend threw out his arms in disbelief. "But he's gone. Disappeared. Where did he go to."

Miss Prunella cackled. "Since he was so curious about my automobile, I sent him to the source, where he could get firsthand information. Now he knows all he wanted to know about it."

"But where?" the friend asked.

Miss Prunella cackled again. "Simple," she answered. "You might say that your curious friend got in way over his head, and now he's 'gone to the Devil.'"

(c) Charles Edwin Price