Evasions

e·va·sion

n. An act or instance of escaping, avoiding, or shirking something by trickery.

evading v. To avoid answering directly

To elude; escape

Summary: When a couple of drifters pass through Radiator Springs, Sally is forced to face a part of her past she thought she had abandoned. How exactly will the town handle the secret that she's been concealing for so long?

Disclaimer: I don't own Cars and this story is simply for entertainment values.

As I look at Flo, Ramone, Luigi, and Guido conversing over by Casa Della Tires, a feeling of guilt washes over me. They deserve to know. Everybody in the town of Radiator Springs deserves to know. They deserve to understand the reason that they've never seen any of my childhood or teenage pictures. To understand the reason why I'm always interested in listening to their stories of their pasts, but I'm never eager to share mine. They deserve that much after all they've done for me. And I deserve to get this off of my fender.

"Howdy there, Miz Salleh!" The familiar voice of the one and only Tow Mater breaks through my cloud of thoughts. "What'cha up to this fine afternoon?"

"Oh…nothing, really. Just thinking." I reply, still in a dream-like state.

"About Lightnin'?" He says in a 'somebody's-in-love' tone while giving me a wink.

"No!" Truth be-told, the remark caught me a little off-guard. "What makes you think that I would be thinking about him?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that you two are in looove!" He adds extra emphasis to 'love'. "Sally and Lightnin' parked 'neath a tree! K, I, S, S… somethin' somethin' T!" He sings as he sways down the road to Willy's Butte, where Stickers just happened to be practicing. Not trusting the rusty tow-truck's ability to keep his mouth shut, I revved up and followed him.

On the short drive to Willy's Butte, I began to think again. This time, it really was about Lightning.

He deserves to know. But what will he say? Will he be angry? Shocked? We aren't even together, so will he get creeped out about me sharing something personal with him? Or maybe…

"Oomph!" Having been caught up in my thoughts, I didn't exactly see the drop-off into Willy's Butte. As I barrel down the steep hill, wincing through the dry shrubs and cacti, I faintly hear, "Dad-gum! That girl must'a been thinkin' again! She really ought not to do that so much!" I slam on my breaks, hoping they would stop me from tearing down the dirt ridge. They didn't. Instead, I received a shock of pain flowing through my frame as my brakes moaned and screeched. I opened my eyes, hoping to have come to the end of my painful journey, but instead found my front tire colliding with a rather large boulder, sending me tumbling down the remainder of the hill. My frame clanged with every bounce before I finally landed with a 'thud!' at the bottom, thankfully upright and on my tires.

I heard the engine of a racecar get closer. "Whoa, Sal, you ok?!" Came the smooth voice of the car who had originally invaded my mind and sent me over the butte's edge. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sheepishly smiled.

"Nice entrance. You gonna live, or do I need to take you back to the clinic?" Doc's raspy voice asked. Wait, was that a trace of annoyance I heard?

Hello, buddy, I just rolled down a cliff. Some sense of you actually caring would be nice.

"I'll be fine." I managed to cough out.

No, I certainly would NOT be fine. My frame ached with searing pain, and I was almost certain that I had totaled my brakes.

But they didn't need to know that. Doc and Stickers had enough to worry about with the upcoming season. They didn't need my problems on top of it all. "Just have Mater get me back to the main road, will ya?" I asked as Mater happily hooked my back bumper and drug me out of the butte. Knowing that the three were still watching me, I gracefully glided off toward town. When I got out of sight, I let out a moan of pain as my tires sank. I slithered the rest of the way to Flo's V8 Café.

"Ooh, honey, what in the world happened to you?!" Came the motherly voice of Flo. Her green eyes were scanning over my injuries.

"It's a long and embarrassing story…" I started to say, but then realized that this was Flo who I was talking to. Somebody who would care. "Well, I've had a lot on my mind lately," I swear she perked up when I said that, "uh…and I kind of thought myself over the drop-off at Willy's Butte." I really hoped that she didn't want to know exactly what was on my mind. Luckily, I think she sensed that.

"Well are you going to be alright? Do you need to get to Doc's?"

"No, no, I'll be fine." She wasn't buying it.

"Sally, I'm old. I'm wise. I know when you little teenies are lying. Tell me the truth. Are you okay?" She gave me a knowing look.

"No. No, I'm not okay. My brakes are totaled and I feel as if I've just finished a round with Mike Chryson. My hood aches, my fender is in agony. And I really just need to go take a nap. Please, don't tell anybody. They have enough on their minds with all of the customers that the new museum's brought, and not to mention Lightning's upcoming season. I promise I'll be fine." I pleadingly looked into her eyes, hoping that she'd understand.

"Fine. But if your not feeling one hundred percent in a week, I'm doing something about it. Oil's on the house." She said, handing me a can of her blended oil.

Little did I know, my little crash would soon become the least of my worries.

Bathmophobia- Fear of steep slopes