A big, long car deserves a big, long story. This one will take a week to tell, a new installment, a new car every day this week, with the finale on Sunday.

“Have you lost your mind?” Perry asked, slurring his words ever so slightly.  “A limousine?  I thought I was getting a sports car?”

“It’s not a limousine, Dear,” his mother replied.  “It’s an Executive Sedan.  Granted, you are not yet an executive, but the sedan will make the trip much more comfortable.”

“What is this ‘trip’ that you keep referring to?” Perry asked.  “I’m not going anywhere!”

“Oh, but you are Dear.” she said.  “And you’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning, so you’ll want to get to bed soon after our little chat. Mrs. Silverman shifted her position in the big wing-back leather chair in the study where the two had retreated following the graduation celebration and the guests’ departure. She extracted a cigarette from the etched Lalique crystal box on the table in front of her and lit it with an ornate sterling silver lighter, motioning for Perry to sit on the couch across from her.

“You’ll be gone for a year,” she began.  “When you return, you’ll have a much better idea of what you’d like to do with yourself.  If you would like to go to university at that point, of course you’ll be free to study whatever you’d like.  If you would like to be brought into the family business, we’ll begin that process. If you would like to start a venture of some type of your own choosing, we’ll take steps to make that happen.  Of course, you’ll have a better idea when you get back than you do now.”

Perry sat on the couch listening as though he were in a movie theater watching a movie whose plot was completely unclear to him.  “And just where is it you think I’m going?”

“Why everywhere, Dear,” she said.  “Everywhere.”  There was a tinge of excitement in her voice, as though she wished she was the one departing.

“You’ll be going to every state in America.  Mr. Holden will serve as your driver.  It sounds cliché to call him a chauffeur.  The two of you will be going to every state in the union, one week in each.  The exceptions will be California, New York, Washington DC, and Texas.  You’ll spend two weeks in each of those locations, simply because there is so much to cover,” she explained matter of factly.

As he sat listening, it began to dawn on him that she was not joking.  She really had planned for him to leave and be gone for a year.  By himself.  With some black guy he’d never met before.  She was serious.

“You’ll need to start your visit in the capital city of each state, unless otherwise noted,” she continued.  “On the first business day of the week, between nine and noon, you’ll check in with the specified bank in that city.  The names and addresses of each of those financial institutions have been packed with your things.  At each location, you’ll receive an envelope containing one thousand dollars, representing the funds you’ll need to cover all your expenses for the ensuing week in that state.  You’ll pay for gas, meals and lodging for yourself and Mr. Holden, as well as any other expenses you may incur.”

Perry felt like the whole thing was surreal and not really happening.  But she kept giving him details, indicating the level of her seriousness.

“It is imperative you show up on time each week,” his mother said.  “At noon, the cash will no longer be available and you will not have funds for the week.  You will be on your own for anything that’s needed.  The bank will have been provided specific instructions.”

“Of course they have,” Perry replied sarcastically.

“While you’re in each state, I will have one or two things I’d like you to do.  People I’ve arranged for you to meet, or sites I think you’ll need to see.  For the most part, however, you are free to spend your time in each as you see fit.  You need only to be sure you have made it to the capital of the next state and located the bank specified before noon the following Monday.”  She snubbed out her cigarette in the large round ashtray on the table in front of her as Cal Holden stepped into the room, as if on cue.

“Mr. Holden will function as your driver and traveling companion.  He is there to assist you, not to serve you.  Be sure you understand the difference.  He is to be treated with the respect you show someone in such a position at all times, as I am sure you are capable,” she said.  

“I don’t want to go,” he said.  “I just graduated high school.  I have a girlfriend.  I have a life here in Fort Stockton that I don’t want to just get in some huge car that looks like it should belong to a funeral home and leave.  Especially not for a year.”  His voice rose slightly.  “You can’t make me go.”

“Of course not Dear,” she said as calmly as could be.  “I would never make you accept a gift of a year seeing the country with your own brand new luxury car and the most capable individual to drive it.  I can’t force you to enjoy yourself as you see fit with a budget set for a prince.  That would be cruel.”  The sarcasm was unmistakable, yet so eloquently delivered it was barely perceptible. “However, if you choose to decline my gift, you’ll need to make other living arrangements.  And find an alternate source of income rather quickly.”

“What about my girlfriend?” he asked, seeing the relatively poor position he was bargaining from.  “We’re in love.”

“Ah yes,” his mother noted.  “She’s such a lovely young girl.  I couldn’t help but notice the dress she was spilling out of this evening.  Very impressive.”  She rose, indicating the discussion had nearly reached its conclusion.  “Love is the most powerful and motivating of all the emotions.  If the love between you and this lovely young girl is strong enough to last the year, when you get back to Fort Stockton in a year you can marry her.  We’ll have a huge wedding at the church and a giant reception here.  Even better than the party we just had.  What was her name again?”

“Susan,” he said, not sure if his mother really didn’t remember or was just making a point.

“I’ve had lovely monogrammed stationery printed and packed with the rest of your things.  I even included postage stamps and an address book, though I don’t recall adding her name.”  Mrs. Silverman had thought of nearly everything.  “You’ll be free to write to her as often as you’d like.  Spend some of the weekly cash on long distance phone calls, if you choose.”  

She smiled at her only boy.  She sometimes loved and sometimes hated how much he looked like his father, the only other man she’d ever cared for.  “You really have the freedom to enjoy the experience in whatever manner you’d like, Son.  You’ll never have such a chance again.  Don’t let anything spoil it.”

Perry knew his mother well enough to know it would be pointless to argue.  He didn’t really have any plans for the summer, didn’t know what he wanted to do in the fall.  He’d call and explain the situation to Susan.  She’d be mad.  And then she wouldn’t.  He was sure she loved him and would wait for him to get back and they’d be together forever after that.  There actually might be some interesting things to see and do outside of his thus far tightly circumscribed southwest Texas world.

“We’ll be pulling out at 6:00 AM,” Mr. Holden said, breaking the silence and reminding Perry he wasn’t alone in the room.  “You’ll want to be ready.  And you’ll want to decide which direction we’ll be heading first.”  Mr. Holden handed him a leather bound Rand-McNally Atlas.

The next morning, after a quick shower and a cup of coffee, Perry stumbled out of the front door to see the Packard Executive Sedan parked and waiting.  In its place in the carriage house, Cal Holden had parked his 1946 Buick Super Sedanet.  The Royal Maroon coupe shone in the morning sun, having received a fresh coat of paste wax in the parking lot of the Cattle Baron Hotel the day before.  Holden left the keys in the ignition and then covered up the bulbous Buick with several quilts he brought with him in the trunk.  His new employer had assured him she’d have the coupe started, backed out and taken out of n the road for a few miles once a month while they were gone so it would be in perfect running order when they returned.  The Packard Executive Sedan looked to be a fine automobile, but Holden knew he’d miss the Buick.

Perry’s mother had been up for some time and was waiting to see them off.  Though she’d gone to extraordinary lengths to plan his trip, she knew she wouldn’t see her son for a year and that tugged at her heart.  She hugged him more tightly than she had in a long time.  Mr. Holden was at the back door of the Packard, holding it open for Perry to enter once the final good-byes were said.

Once inside, the door closed behind him, Mr. Holden saw that Mrs. Silverman had extended her hand.  Grasping it, he noted it was more firm than he’d anticipated.  “There will be an envelope at each bank for you, as well.  A bonus above and beyond what we agreed upon.  You’re taking my only child.  My boy.  Bring back a man.”

Calhoun Holden shook his employer’s hand, walked around the front of the Packard, entered the driver’s door, and slid onto the wide bench seat.  Starting the flathead V8 engine and sliding the Ultramatic transmission into gear, he looked in the rear view mirror at Perry, stretched out in the back seat.  “Where to, young man?” he asked.

“Amarillo,” Perry replied.  “Panhandle Packard to be exact.”  And with that, the boy was asleep before they got to the edge of town.