Page 128 of Property of Bob

I hit the gas and the RV lurched forward.

Someone screamed behind me.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Anchor shouted.

“Sorry! I never said she was a smooth ride.”

Bob grabbed the dash with one hand and the side of his seat with the other.

I looked over, and his eyes were wide.

I burst out laughing.

“Eyes on the fucking road!” He motioned frantically ahead.

“We’re in a parking lot!” I laughed.

“Still a road!”

I drove slowly around the lot, ignoring the running commentary coming from behind me.

Pearl complained that I needed shocks. Shay wanted to know if we could take it camping. Prime wanted to know why anyone willingly lived in something that rattled this much. Anchor opened one of my cabinets and got hit in the shoulder by a box of cereal. Apparently, I’d forgotten to latch that one.

By the time I made a three wide circles, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. I pulled into the parking spot, straight this time, and killed the engine.

For a second, nobody moved.

Then Prime spoke from behind me. “Never again.”

Shay laughed. “That was fun.”

“That was seven minutes of wondering if we were going to tip over,” Anchor grunted.

“That might have been the best seven minutes of your day,” Pearl snickered.

“I was asleep twenty minutes ago,” Prime grunted. “Remind me the next time I hear you guys talking loudly to just stay asleep.”

Cross opened the door behind me. “That was fucking sketchy to watch.”

Piney huffed. “Try being in the damn thing. I don’t know how you drove this farther than a mile without wondering if this was the end.”

“Hey,” I laughed. “You’re the one who got it running for me.”

“And it might have been a mistake. I don’t want Bob kicking my ass if something happens to you in this thing.”

They all started filing out, but Bob stayed in the passenger seat.

I looked over at him. “Well? What did you think?”

“About?”

I rolled my eyes. “My RV.”

“It’s loud.”

“Bob.”

“It shakes.”