The Devil Flies a Car

“Now, it’s all fairly straightforward,” the instructor said, his voice calm and reassuring, professionally smooth. “You’ve got gas, brake, and clutch, just like in a regular automobile. On the ground these work like you’re used to. This button, here–” he put a polished fingernail lightly on a green glowing button in the dashboard– “extends the wings.”

The Devil reached for the button, his fingers half-extended.

“Don’t push it yet,” said the instructor. “Not in the parking lot. There’s not enough room here to open the wings. You’ll just damage them, damage the other cars. Wait until we get out on the highways.”

“Sorry,” said the Devil, his tail twitching slightly where it curled around the gear shift. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Everyone’s nervous at first, it’s very natural. But there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been doing this for six years and’ve never had an accident. Not once, never even came close. If you lose control — and you might, it happens, it’s nothing to be ashamed about — I just flip this switch here and take over, until you’re feeling better.”

The Devil growled low in his throat. “Let’s get started.”