Tragedy (a short story)

Bob was as usual en route to his home from his work. He has a tough and tiresome daily as he spends his whole day repairing old cars and making them new.
Bob, being a car mechanic, has a high fetish for racing cars. Although his monthly earnings don’t support him to fulfill his dreams, still he hopes, one day he will be doing so.
“Bob how was your day?” asked his mom.
“As usual, do you have something for me to eat?” Bob asked, his fatigue was all over his face as he threw down his bag of essentials of his daily chores.
“Right here it is my son.” his mom offered him a plate of noodles and a beer bottle.
“Thanks Mom. I will eat in my room.” And without saying any other word, he retired to his room.
Switching on the room lights, he was thinking about what he did that day. This was his everyday habit but one thing, which he never forgets with all these things, is his hope for a racing car, his passion.

“Bob, where are you?” shouted a voice over the phone. It was his friend Michael.
“At home. What is it Michael?” Bob still didn’t get his hangover as he had slept very late last night.

“A rich, super-rich man had come to get his car repaired at our shop, and he is asking for you. He has offered you price money that he says you can’t refuse.”
A normal mechanic, who just gets enough to fill his daily stomach of his and his mother, would be jumping with joy on hearing this thing. But Bob was a different person. He silently answered “I don’t work for money Michael. Repairing cars is my hobby.”
“But Bob, just come once. It’s a request, not from him, but from me. Please.” Michael was pleading.
Bob got down from his bed, hanging up his phone. Getting dressed, he came down, filled his mouth with a burger that his mom had prepared and left his house.
Walking down the road, he was waving to people he had known these years. Bob was very well known for his car repairing job and he was well reputed in his locality as well as others. He never has a want for money. He only hopes of riding a racing car. Any car can it be.
It would be untrue to say that he wasn’t thinking of the man and what car would he bring. Will his hope get fulfilled today? Will he be riding a car of his dream? What amount of money will he be offering?
Bob soon reached his shop. ‘Will’s repairing shop’, a weary 25 years old shop, still was the best repairing shop in all of Pique Square.
“Michael, Michael!!!” Bob was yelling.
“Coming Bob!” Michael shouted from inside.
Bob couldn’t wait any longer. He was getting frustrated.
Lunging forward, he saw a stunning red Ferrari 458 Spider, parked in front of the entrance. Bob leaped with joy.
Without asking anyone anything about it, he moved forward and started speaking about it.
“Ferrari V8 Spider, 90 degree, direct injection, dry sump type. An engine of 9000 rpm with forged rims and racing seats. Has an included 3.7 KW by dynamic over pressure. It also has a combined cycle with HELE system, a combination of EDC and EUDC fuel system. Where did you get this wonder Michael?” Bob couldn’t control his wanting for this car, his passion, his only dream, his only hope.

“Good afternoon Bob.” A man with a husky but gentle tone spoke from behind. “I am Samuel Delacorte. This is my wife Marta. I brought this car a month back, but there is some problem with it. Whatever you had told just now, I understood absolutely nothing, but I am well assured that I have brought the car to the perfect and well organized person to get it repaired.”
Bob was used to this kind of compliment. His touch with this work for over a decade now has made him confident enough to get on with his work. But this was something out of his world. He had repaired so many cars, but never something like this. This was a dream come true, a bolt out of the blue from him.
“Sure Mr. Delacorte.” Bob addressed with utter respect. He was familiar with that name. Samuel Delacorte, owner of Delacorte Industries.
Bob went towards his dream. To normal people, it was an exquisite car, to the rich, it was affordable, but to Bob, it was Midas’ touch. He was surely touched by Midas, he had got his dream.
But soon he thought to discard his want as it was the car of a famous celebrity. His hands wanted to touch it totally, but directly went to the front to check the engine.
“You will drive Marta home in this. I will be coming in another car.” Samuel replied.
This opened his gates to exclusive joy and happiness. He wasn’t bounded with anything else but just delight. Although he was a bit uncomfortable driving, that also with Mrs. Marta Delacorte, he soon came out of it when Marta herself talked with him politely.

Repairing the engine, it was alright, and the engine revved properly. Wind chimes are a delight to small children, whistle of a train is a daily audible sound to a train driver, but the revving of the car, of the Ferrari was coolness to his ear, to his waiting for so long years.
“Bob, you did a splendid job. This is for you.” Samuel handed him a cheque.
Bob couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 1000$ was written on it. So much for this much work?
“Mr. Delacorte, this, umm, I can’t take.” Bob was hesitating.
“I know this behavior of yours. I had gathered it from your co workers. But you have to take it.” Samuel was insisting.

Without much ado, Bob accepted it and opened the door for Marta to get in. Samuel gave him the directions and went to his another car. It was a Mercedes McLaren, another favourite of Bob, but it was nothing compared to where he was sitting.
He soon put the keys in to the car and started it. It was auto ignition. He put the gear into forward position, let go off the clutch and accelerated forward. Turning out of the shop, he drove away.

He stopped the car in front of Delacorte Mansion. A house of that caliber and such exclusive beauty was a I-didn’t-know-something-like-this-could-be-possible-in-real-life thing.
“Come inside Bob.” Marta showed him the way.
“No ma’am. I will come later. Thanks for the ride.” Bob replied. He didn’t know what else to say after riding such a beauty. He was just wondering what good he had done yesterday or seeing whose face he got up this morning that he got huge money but on top of that, he rode his dream, his passion, and his hope.

“Pleasure is all mine Bob. You are a wonderful driver with an expert set of hands.” Marta replied and went inside.
Bob returned to the shop and thanked Michael. Without wasting any time, he went to the bank to get the money. Then he returned home.

It was evening. Bob still couldn’t believe what has happened earlier that day. Sitting on his chair, with his left hand cupping his own chin and right hand holding a cup of tea, he was thinking what to do with that money or what to do with his invitation that he had got from Marta.
“I should be going there now. Probably might get another ride of the Ferrari.” Bob thought to himself.

Bob was soon standing outside Delacorte Mansion. He didn’t know how to move forward. Gathering courage, he rang the bell.
“Yes, who is it?” Marta asked from inside.
“It’s me ma’am, Bob.” Bob replied.
Marta soon opened the door, cheerfully and welcomed Bob inside. Samuel was sitting inside and offered Bob a cup of tea while Bob got himself a seat.
Bob had already seen the Ferrari parked outside. And at this moment, his want for that car, had turned to greed. Voracious thoughts were crossing his mind about how to get hold of that car. He already had a duplicate key of the car. He had got the imprint on soap while Marta got out of the car earlier that day and had made himself a key while returning home.
Bob was thinking how to catch hold of that car without letting anyone know and get out with it. But there wasn’t any way and it was totally impossible to ask Samuel to get the car for a ride. Because if he fled after that, police would snatch him only.

Thinking about all this, he found a big billiard cue beside him. Hastily, he took it in his hands, and hit Samuel’s head. Shouting, Samuel’s dead body soon found the floor.
Marta came outside and seeing this was about to shout when Bob threw a vase towards her. It made her fall to the floor too.
Bob never had any kind of experience with any girl whole his life. He was always busy with his work. Seeing a beautiful body, with s*xy shaved legs glowing out of her short skirts, his greed for the car became secondary. He got greedy eyes towards Marta.
He pounced towards her and stripped of her clothes immediately. She started shouting and struggling her way out, but it was in vain. Bob was soon inside Marta.
Killing her after a grotesque encounter with her, Bob left those two bodies and left the house. He had the keys so it wasn’t any problem to get the car out.

While he was driving on the road, he soon realized that he was followed by police and heavy firing was going on. One bullet hit the tires and before he could realize how police came to know, he was in their arms, captive, senseless.
When he got up, he was behind bars. No one was there around him to be called as his own. Everything was taken from him.

“How did you know that I was driving the car?” Bob asked the inspector.
“The car is protected by a password. I hope you know that.” The inspector replied.
“Yeah I know that. At morning, it didn’t ask. But when I got out, it asked. But I gave it correctly otherwise the car wouldn’t have started.” Bob demanded a true reply.
“I have both the explanations. About morning, it was already running, I mean the car and you allowed Mrs. Delacorte enter before. The car has a sensitivity system which senses either of Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte’s presence. So the password wasn’t asked. Now this time, when you started the car, you gave the password, the system is built to take in any password to start, but any password other than the correct one, would activate a tracking system directly linked to us. The correct one is known only to the couple. As soon as we got the indication, we tracked the car. The inspector replied. “We were surprised to see that a car mechanic like you couldn’t see the tracking device.”

Bob now got the whole incident. He couldn’t understand anything. He was at fault. He just waited for the verdict.
Next morning, he was produced at court and was sentenced to life imprisonment for killing Samuel and Marta and also for theft.
When he was brought outside, he saw the Ferrari parked in front of the police station. He got inside the police van. It drove, leaving back the car, leaving back his passion, leaving back his only hope.

I’m back. This is a short story. Hope you all will like it. I’ll also update my Hope quickly. I apologies for making you guys wait for a long time. Sorry. Enjoy.