Once there was a car named Sam. Sam was a sleek, green car with tinted windows and a secret no one knew. Sam had always wanted to be a motorcycle instead of a car. They always went so fast and looked so cool with two wheels instead of four, bulky tires like Sam had. Motorcycles always got more attention too, and they always where ahead of him on the roads. Sam wanted that.
Looking at his reflextion, he frowned at his large frame and his windows and doors. He was mad at the Global Operations Department, the factory where he and anything with wheels was manufacturered, had decided to build him. Though he had never spoken with the Global Operations Department, or G.O.D., he knew they had made a mistake in his design plans.
"They made a mistake!" Sam said angerly. "They don't know what they're doing! I'll fix myself then to what feels right!"
That day, he went to the auto shop and declared he wanted to be what he was always ment to be, a motorcycle. "But," the repair man stammered, "but you're not a motorcycle. Your a car."
"Can't you see that's not who I am?!?!? I'm supposed to be a motorcycle! Don't you tell me what I can and can't be!"
"Alright! Alright, I'll do it."
Sam had to go into the auto shop several times to correct G.O.D.'s error. Bit by bit, his wheels came off and he learned how to ballance on two, his frame was replaced with a narrower build, and his stearing wheel was replaced by handels. After months of work and change, Sam looked at himself again, smiling at his motorcycle appearance. "Great!" He said. "Now put in a motorcycle engine."
"Hum, we can't do that," the repair man said. "We tried the last time you where in, but the wiring goes beyond our abilities and if we tried, we'd probably brake you. You'd never start again."
Sam's smile faded as he thought. "But, I still have a car's engine. A can't be a real motorcycle without a motorcycle engine!" "Well, we can't help you." "But, your the best!" The repair man shrugged. Sam sighed, knowing that it didn't matter how much he looked like a motorcycle, he would never be able to function like one.
"G.O.D. might be able to do it for you," the repair man said.
"I'll try them," Sam said with hope.
He drove up to the G.O.D. office, though it wasn't a good drive like he thought it be. He wasn't ballance on his new two wheels and kept forgetting to think like a motorcycle, not a car.
When he reached the office, he went inside and found a man standing at the door with a huge roll of papers in his hands. "Hello, Sam," he said. "The repair man called ahead and asked if we could put a motorcycle engine inside you."
"Can you?" The car/motorcycle grinned, feeling hope at last. Maybe now I can be what I was ment to be!
"No," the man said. Sam frowned. "To replace your car engine with a motorcycle engine goes against your original plans and design. We made you a car and a car is who you'll always be."
Sam shook his head, confused. "I'm not a car. I'm a motorcycle! See? See my two wheels, my seat and no doors? See my handlebars and frame?"
The man shook his head as he unrolled the papers in his hands. "Sam, look. Here are your designs. It took six months to come up with the perfect design just for you, two months to draw it out, and eight months to create you."
Sam's mouth dropped open as he stared at the hundreds of calculations, draw plans, interior and exterior design, engine construction, and so much more. Maybe . . . Sam though, maybe they did know what they where doing.
"You will always be a car, Sam." The man rolled up his papers, his brow knotted for he knew this was hard for Sam to hear; hard but good. "It doesn't matter how much you change G.O.D.'s design, we meant for you to be a car, and a car is what you are." "
But," Sam looked down, "I don't feel like a car."
"But a car is what you are."
"But it doesn't feel right."
"So you think that G.O.D., the manufacturer of thousands of cars in hundreds of countries before your designs where even thought of, is wrong?"
"Yes. Maybe. I don't know . . ." The man and Sam stared at one another without a word.
"We can help you, Sam," the man said. "We can rebuild you from the top to the bottom based on your original design."
Sam shook his head. "I don't know."
"You want to be true to yourself?" Sam nodded. The man held up the rolls of paper. "This is who you are! Be true to your original design that G.O.D. has made for you!"
Sam looked up at the man, at his plans. He looked behind him down the road away from G.O.D. He didn't know what to do.
Do you?
