Short Story 26: The Parking Space
A Minimalist Story About a Parking Space
The old man waited patiently for the young couple to drive off. They were parallel parked between two other cars. It was a busy grey Sunday, and this was the only free space on the street. Distant ambulance sirens wailed, fading into the air. They had a child in the back with three pigtails, one standing straight up on her head. She waved as they reversed out, and the old man winked and waved back.
The young couple smiled and gave a small wave as they drove away. As the old man started his car and engaged first gear, another car with a group of young men swung in from the side, braking sharply as they slid into the space before he could.
The old man saw them coming but didn’t rush into the space. The young men were in their early twenties. The driver had a snake tattoo winding from the side of his neck and disappearing into his hoodie. The front passenger, with a sharp fade and waxed hair, gave the old man a hard stare. In the back seat, one of them had a lip piercing and studs in both ears. Their car was flashy, painted a brilliant blue with a wing at the back, looking like a race car. They parked at a crooked angle, nudging onto the footpath to fit in.
The old man smiled and drove forward just enough to block the front passenger door. Fade gave him a bewildered look, which quickly turned to contempt.
Snake Tattoo got out first, followed by Piercings in the back. The old man stepped out too, moving at a steady pace.
Snake Tattoo spoke first.
"You're blocking our fucking car, old man. Move it so he can fucking get out."
He gestured at Fade, shoulders stiff.
The old man smiled, holding eye contact for an uncomfortably long moment without blinking. Just as Snake Tattoo looked ready to repeat himself, he spoke.
"I won’t move until you get out of my parking space."
The old man’s voice was steady, neither loud nor quiet, but full of authority.
The young men exchanged puzzled looks. Piercings started to laugh, and soon his friends joined in. He wore a muscle-fit shirt, his biceps bulging as he brought his hands to cover his mouth. When he realised the old man was serious, he swept a hand through his mussed hair, clenching his other fist.
As the laughter died down, the old man looked at Piercings and smiled, his gaze penetrating.
Cars began to congregate behind him, a pulsating honk cutting through the quiet. The smell of exhaust thickened, and the old man’s idling engine radiated heat they could feel.
Snake Tattoo stood up a bit straighter, his baggy clothes hiding his tense, bulky frame. The front of his hoodie read “SUPREME.”
The horns grew louder. Passersby were staring now, and a woman nearby whispered discreetly into her phone.
Fade rolled his eyes and gestured for his friends to come back. He squinted at the old man, a sly smile creeping onto his face, showing sharp teeth that were unnaturally white—a hideous grin with ill intent behind it.
“C’mon, lads, let’s give the old man his fucking spot.” He gave his friends a quick, knowing look.
Snake Tattoo spat next to the old man’s feet, scowling before sliding back into the driver’s seat. Piercings slunk away, slamming his door without looking up. He couldn’t meet the old man’s gaze.
The driver gripped the wheel tightly as they pulled away, while Fade cast a lingering look at the old man’s car, smirking to himself.
The old man waited until they were out of sight, then smiled and drove off.