Doc Hudson: An Autobiography

This is the “secret fic” I’ve been talking about!! I got my inspiration for this one from Jonah, also known as Snipe here on Pixar Planet. I wanted to write something I thought he would really like, and seeing that Doc is a character he likes, and he loves back-stories…what could be more fitting? Anyways, this story is pretty well explained by the title; an autobiography. Which means it will be written from first person in Doc’s view. The chapters will be much longer than my usual, around 1000 words or more. Thus, I will be updating it much less often (probably once a week) and I will need to know that there is an interested audience to keep it going. This one has taken a lot of planning so far, and I’m not even sure where it is going to go. When I say ‘in progress’, it is very much in progress! But I’m aiming to take you through Doc’s entire life, beginning when he is a very young child right up until his death. This will be following with both Cars and Cars 2. So, though you haven’t been around in quite some time, I hope you’ll see this Jonah. This is dedicated to you, for being the Lightning to my Sally and an amazing friend. Happy Birthday! <3 This one is for the boys! :smiley:

DOC HUDSON: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY

CHAPTER ONE

The year was 1944. I had left the childhood of poverty and traded it for the tragedy of war. Lucky for me, ten year-olds couldn’t be sent overseas. Not that things were much better on our home ground. All around my Illinois neighborhood hung remnants of the ‘dirty thirties’. I could still remember the long days when I’d shared a single can of fuel with my three siblings. At least we had enough for meals now, even if it was strictly rationed.

Our lives were easier on the outside- war generated money, it fed the economy. But there was something unmistakable in my mother’s eyes, something no boy ever wishes to see in his mother’s eyes.

“Go on now; your sister’s waiting on you. And no staying after school today, Doc. I want you straight home,” she instructed and swung the door closed.

There I was left, staring at the abraded oak door and the blue and white flag that stood out against it. It was a woven piece of cloth that adorned nearly every house on the street. Ours had three white stars on it, some had five, and others had only one. It was meant to show pride, a star for every family member who had gone off to fight. One for each of my brothers, and one on top for my father. I always said his was the star on top because he was the one who looked after us all, the one who held us together through good and bad. Especially through the bad.

And while those stars were meant to be seen as courage, they were the sickening grief in my mother’s eyes. It was the thing I could never wash from my memory.

I backed off the porch and made my way down to the road. As Mama had said, Cindy was anticipating my arrival. Her perky green eyes stood out from her pale yellow body as she anxiously searched my dull gaze. Her pupils were wide with worry, a look I’d seen in her eyes since the day she was born. She’d never lived a care-free day in her life, so she was constantly a timid creature.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said and set off to lead the way.

She hesitated and whispered, “I don’t wanna go today Doc.”

“Neither do I, but we have to. Now hurry up,” I replied impatiently. I started to drive away but she didn’t follow.

"Doc…I think Mama is sick.”

I paused, then reversed to face her. “Cindy, Mama is just fine.”

“Last night I heard her coughin’. And you seen her this morning Doc, her eyes is all red!” she threw back in argument.

I froze with silence. My sister had never spoken so heatedly, and I couldn’t deny her observations.

“Look, I promise we can take good care of her when we get home. You know how mad she’ll be if we’re late for school though,” I scrambled to answer.

Cindy was quiet for a second, then the strength died from her expression and she slowly drove down the road. We continued without words for a few minutes until we passed the Olson house.

“Doc, why did Mrs. Olson take down her war flag?” she asked me innocently.

I stole a glance at the solemn house and was completely dumbstruck. How could I tell her? How could I explain that all the Olson boys were dead? Dead as the dirt beneath my tires. You simply couldn’t explain those kinds of things to four year-old girls.

“She probably is washing it,” I tried to reason.

“Oh,” Cindy nodded and moved her attention back to the road. She knew I was lying, but her delicate heart kept her from pressing for the truth. We were both aware of the primeval condition Mrs. Olson always kept that banner in, but she would never, ever, take it down. Not until the final star was removed from it…

I dragged my eyes away from the house. It had once been bustling and welcoming, but now it was cold with the touch of death. And in the early mornings when the fog draped just right, it made the perfect picture of a widow’s sanctuary.

Willy had lived there. Willy Olson had invited my eldest brother over many times for play dates. I’d visited the place on several occasions too. How would my brother feel when he saw this? A place of memories turned hollow with sadness. Then again, that was if he came back.

When we reached the school I tried to empty my thoughts. But even here the effects of war couldn’t be escaped. No matter how much I wanted to shelter Cindy from all the awful things in this world, there was no way of shielding her at school.

We spotted Jacob Kadett being pestered and beaten over by the wall, and we both knew why; his last name. Everyone in the student body knew his grandfather was German, and he’d been rejected by multiple teachers for the fact.

We knew it was wrong, Mama had taught us so. Poor Jacob had never done anything wrong to deserve such torture. His mother even made care packages for our soldiers, but she gave them to Mama instead of sending them herself. She didn’t want to be scorned.

I tried not to stare at Jacob being tormented and it came as a relief when the school bell sounded.

There were separate entrances for the boys and girls, so I escorted Cindy as close to the girls’ door as acceptable. My eyes caught with those of Bonnie Wilson. She watched Cindy join the line-up, then parted from her spot and drove towards me. As she did, I stayed glued to my position.

Bonnie Wilson had to be the prettiest girl in my grade, and the coolest too. She was a sweet purple Chevrolet Coupe with the biggest brown eyes I’d seen on a windshield. They were so perfectly round and in the sunlight small gold flecks would stand out in their rich, warm colour.

Bonnie noticed my gawking and sent me a gentle smile as she drew closer. Her smile was enough to make my day. I didn’t know why it was so lovely. Maybe because it meant she was happy. Or maybe because I knew she meant it for me.

“Hey, Doc. My mama is making a nice dinner for my baby brother’s birthday tonight. How’d you like to come over?” she asked me in her dainty, well-mannered way.

“You sure I can come?” I stammered after a short pause.

“Well, of course! Mama said I could invite one car…”

I was stunned. “What about Susie?”

“Oh, she’s boring! She’s only got one set of tires and she don’t like to get them dirty,” Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes.

“I…I’ve only got one set of tires too, you know,” I admitted sheepishly.

Bonnie gave her airy laugh of amusement. “I know that silly! But you ain’t afraid to get ‘em dirty are you?”

“No.”

She grinned again, “Perfect. You got any hide-out building experience?”

“Don’t think so,” I replied honestly.

“OK. We’ll figure it out together. I wanna make one in my backyard. So, what do you say? Want to come?”

I nearly answered her, but I bit my tongue. I thought of Mama and her distress, of Cindy and her petrified eyes.

“No, I’m sorry, Bonnie. I mean, I want to, but I can’t tonight, I forgot…,” I trailed off nervously.

She looked sad for a second, then her eyes flicked back to their normal. “Oh. Well, perhaps you could drive me home after school?”

“Y-yes!” I stuttered immediately, “Right after school!”

She smiled, “Alright. I better go, bye Doc!”

I noticed how short the line had shrunk to and called my goodbye as I dashed off into the other direction. I couldn’t wait for the end of the school day…

Class was never a good time for me. It left too much space for thinking. Which I guessed that was the whole idea, but not when you’re thinking was about things besides educational. When the excitement of Bonnie’s invitation had worn off, I was distracted by other bothersome thoughts. Mainly ones about Mama, images I couldn’t get out of my mind.

After being called on three times in arithmetic, Miss Smith ordered me to her desk at recess break.

“Do, is there something wrong with you? Are you feeling ill, dear?” she questioned me.

“No ma’am,” I responded quietly.

“Doc… is there something going on at home?” she tried in a gentler tone.

I was silent for a long time. Then I told her slowly, “Miss Smith… this morning I saw my Mama crying. And I saw her cryin’ last night too. She doesn’t know, but I saw her.”

Miss Smith sighed, “You know you shouldn’t go spying on your mother like that.”

“I wasn’t ma’am! I went in the kitchen and there she was. I pretended like I didn’t see her, but I know that’s what she was doin’,” I blabbered, on the verge of tears myself.

She nodded, “These are difficult times, Doc. I’m sure your mother is just under a lot of stress. So don’t you worry, and be a good boy for her, understand?”

I sniffled and swallowed my fear, “Yes ma’am.”

“Now, go back to your spot and finish your work.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I remained in that spot for several more hours. I kept my eyes focused on the clock and tried to remind myself of Miss Smith’s words. Suddenly, I heard her call my name in the middle of class.

“Yes, Miss Smith?”

“Doc Hudson, you are to go straight to the principal’s office, right now,” she ordered in a flat voice.

Had I really been that absent-minded? So much for being a ‘good boy’.

All eyes turned to stare at me driving down the aisle and out of class. I heard them whisper about detention and ‘the crowbar’. I hoped I wouldn’t get either, and my tank shook with a wretched feeling.

When I reached the office they took me in at once. The smoky smelling room only added fear to the atmosphere. Mr. Green was already parked when I came in.

“Doc Hudson?” the big Cadillac said from behind his disproportionately small spectacles.

I piped timidly, “Yes, sir.”

“Doc, you are being excused from your afternoon classes. You may go home now.”

I looked at him with worry. “I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention, sir. But I have to stay; I have to drive my sister home afterwards.”

And Bonnie too… I thought to myself.

Mr. Green frowned slightly. “Did Miss Smith speak to you?”

“Yes, sir, during the first recess.”

He paused for a moment, his hard exterior melted and he finally delivered the news, “Doc, your mother has received a letter of despondence. Your father…is dead.”

I put a lot of effort into this one. Research, word choice, everything. I personally think this is one of the best chapters I've written of any of my stories, or that my work at least paid off. A few things I'll point out- Kadett comes from Opel Kadett which is a German car brand, Doc's home state of Illinois was pretty much picked at random, and Bonnie Wilson's name was not surprisingly derived from "Bonnie Hunt" and "Owen Wilson"  :laughing: . That's about all my notes on this one, I'd really like some comments of anybody would care to leave one! Thanks for reading!  :slight_smile:

I loved it! I can totally see where you were going when you said it was up my alley. Can’t wait to see more.

Awesome job! I think you are doing an incredible job so far. I always like seeing different people’s ideas of back-stories to different characters. I really enjoyed everything and you set all the war problems and distresses really well and powerfully. I’m excited for more!

Nice work.

Ballboi: I thought you would like it, what with your love for Doc and all. :wink: I’m thrilled you enjoyed it!

Thank you! I worked very hard to make sure the dates were in line and that the war was well encorporated. I don’t know if they had a war in the Cars world, but this is obviously mimicking World War II in our world. :stuck_out_tongue:

Thanks! Nice to see a new reader. :smiley:

Your welcome. I always wanted to read like an autobiography of Doc, and I’m very happy I’m reading one now. :smiley: I wonder if Jonah has read this yet. He hasn’t been around in a couple of weeks.

Wow! I love it! :open_mouth: This is such an interesting backstory for Doc. The way you translate WWI from our world to theirs is grippingly fascinating! Like with war flags and the hide-out buildings. Quote time!

^^^ Nice translation of how humans had to share bread between their whole family and what not.

I love Cindy; she’s just pictured in my mind as the cute lil’ sister; innocent and sweet. :3 Plus, I love the part where Doc lies to her about the flag.

^^^ Like. :slight_smile:

Really awesome of you to include the German kid and how he’s bullied and stuff.

Awww, cute. <3

The one set of tires thing you included is again, awesome translation, of how kids only had one set of shoes and etc.

‘The crowbar’- 8D Like ‘the paddle’? That’s funny.

Awwww, the ending was great! I can’t say I didn’t see it coming though. Question: Did his mother receive the letter before they left for school? Is that why she was crying? Or did she receive later? feels slightly stupid for asking o_0

You, research, and details go hand in hand on this story! I feel like i’m reading a history book… but much, much better. :wink: :laughing:

Your welcome.

Ballboi: Yup! That is exactly what you’re going to get. :wink: I don’t know, I have seen anything from him on here in over a month. I think he is busy with life but maybe someday he’ll be able to stop by and see.

SM: Thank you!!! :smiley: I’m very pleased that you saw all the connections I made, including the one set of tires, I wasn’t sure that would make sense. Cindy is like my favourite OC now, she wasn’t meant to be explained that much in depth but she stole my heart too. <3 And hahaha, yes, ‘the crowbar’ was meant to be like the paddle, or the belt. No, I didn’t expect the ending to be a mega surprise. :laughing: No, don’t feel stupid for asking at all! That will be explained in the next chapter though, I’ll leave it at that.

I suppose so. Hope he stops by sometime soon.

Really sorry guys, I doubt I’ll have an update today like I was hoping. I’m going to make sure I have it ready for Monday though, and one for TDA then too.

It’s alright. I’ll make sure I’ll read it whenever you post it.

That’s alright, whenever you’re ready.

Thank you very much guys. :slight_smile: I was able to finish up the next chapter this morning, so here you go!

CHAPTER TWO

I didn’t drive Bonnie Wilson home that day. I didn’t drive Cindy home either.

It was the heat of the day when I drove home on shaky tires. Adults gave me looks of disapproval as I passed them on the street. I should have been in my little red brick school, not making my way towards a broken mother.

When I came to the end of our path I blinked rapidly to clear my blurred vision. Up ahead I could see two cars on the porch; my mother and my pastor. I stayed still for a moment, hardly even breathing. If I didn’t go up there then they couldn’t tell me the truth. I’d never have to believe my Papa was dead if I didn’t hear it from their mouths. Mr. Green was just a crusty, lazy principal; I bet he’d lie to me.

Then I saw Mama tremble. She was sobbing like she had been this morning. I couldn’t take it any longer; I tore up the path as fast as I could. The ramp to the porch creaked and moaned with my sudden pressure, but I didn’t slow down until I was at her side. I rested against her, gasping for gulps of air. I felt her lean back and she whispered for me to hush.

“Mrs. Hudson?” The pastor prompted.

“Yes… tell him,” Mama said hoarsely.

I looked up over Mama’s fender and searched the pastor’s eyes. He was a small, grey car with dull blue eyes. The black of his pupils stood out against the clear surrounding colour with such contrast that it felt like he was looking right into my soul. He was trying to devise a way to break the news, one that would cut the shallowest.

He drew a steady breath and began, “Doc, your mother has received some terrible information at this time. Several weeks ago she was delivered a letter that indicated your father was missing in action. A small crew of soldiers was sent out in search of him. He was located in a French town, badly wounded and no longer… in a state of living. Your mother was informed of his passing just hours ago.”

Finally there was absolute silence. I stared at the pastor, my body and mind completely numb. I felt tears roll down from my windshield. I didn’t make a sound, and I didn’t even know I was crying until I felt those cold tears.

The same cold tears came streaming down only a week later.

It was a beautiful weather for a funeral, the one that we held at the local cemetery. Mama was given the option of burying Papa at the special war cemetery but she declined the offer. “I want to be buried beside him,” she told me, “They can’t bury me in the war graveyard.”

So, we lowered the casket at Riverside Cemetery instead. I’d never seen a casket until Papa’s burial. It was long and made out of cheap pine wood, the only thing we could afford at the time. But Mama painted it up a nice white and the trim of it gold. We filled it with family photos and a couple of old trinkets that reminded us of him.

There weren’t many cars I knew at the funeral. Johnny and Cord weren’t able to take leave from the army to attend, and the rest were mostly extended family. There were a few neighbors though, and some friends too. Mrs. Olson came, and so did Bonnie Wilson, both of them painted in black to match with the other guests.

It wasn’t long before the crowd died out. Soon, I was left in solitude, a moment just to sit and stare at the grave. It was too hard to believe.

Then I felt her presence. Bonnie parked close to me, and although we weren’t actually touching I could still feel her comfort. She was offering herself as a soundboard, and the gap was merely an open space for me to close.

I didn’t though; I just enjoyed her being there. After an extended period of time, I said, “You ever been to a funeral before, Bonnie?”

She looked up to the sky and then down to the ground. “Yes, my grandpa’s.”

I nodded and continued staring straight ahead. I knew that even those brown eyes wouldn’t lift my spirits today.

She thought long and hard, then she made her statement, “Doc… you don’t cry a lot, do ya?”

I didn’t answer.

“You better cry now. Someday you’ll be too old for it and then they’ll wonder what’s the matter with ya,” she finished.

My eyes left the horizon to see her blank expression. “What are you talkin’ about, Bonnie?” I scoffed, “Your mama tell you that?”

She shot me a look, her brown eyes blazing intensely. “No, she didn’t,” Bonnie spat.

I immediately regretted my words and made an attempt to apologize. I couldn’t get a solid word out though.

“Forget it Doc,” she turned away, “I was only trying to help.”

I watched her drive away in anger. I kept my eyes focused on her until she became a hazy pinpoint in the distance. I wanted to ignore her comments and pretend that her change in mood didn’t bother me. Normally, I’d just slip back into my old stubborn self. But she brought something out in me; she made my heart stir and forced me to look reality in the eye. I couldn’t let her power over me escape this soon.

It was a whole week before I got up the courage to confront her. And even then, I still wasn’t really ready to apologize. I missed that dazzling smile of hers, and the soft security of her eyes. So, I made the fifteen minute drive out to the Wilson house and prepared myself to somehow win her back.

I was just reaching a state of being ready when she opened the door, suddenly my confidence was gone. I waited a second to see if she would slam it shut again, but she remained silent, forcing me to strike the conversation.

“Bonnie…,” I said quietly because I didn’t know what else to start with. Then I remembered my plan. “Cindy and I… we were gonna make a fort this afternoon and she told me you are really good at them. So, she asked me if I would ask you… if you could help us!” I rambled and stumbled on my final sentence. She’d certainly know I was lying now.

A small smile peeked at the corner of her mouth and she said, “Sure.”

Bonnie and I spent the rest of the day constructing a makeshift fort on my dried-up back lawn. It was a small shelter that gave me an excuse to sit real close to her. Cindy had opted to stay in her room instead of being roped into helping without her consent. That left just Bonnie and I alone together.

We parked inside the fort as a gentle draft came through the flimsy sheet walls. It had been a while since I‘d smiled, really smiled, but she’d made me today. I thought I owed her something…

“I’m sorry.”

Her brown eyes were on me in a second. She knew what I was apologizing for. She cast me a look of sympathy. “It’s alright. I’m sorry too. I know you were upset, it wasn’t your fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I countered and added slowly, “You never do anything wrong.”

She smiled weakly and turned her eyes back to the world outside our fort. “Thank you,” she whispered.

My heart pulsed with joy. Finally, something I’d done right.

“The war will be ending soon. Did you know that, Doc?”

“Yes,” I said, “I know, that’s what they keep saying anyway.”

“I hope the war will end before my next birthday,” she sighed wistfully.

“Me too.”

“If it doesn’t,” she paused, and then continued nervously, “Will you come to my birthday part?”

I felt some excitement in me, another thing I hadn’t registered since my father’s death. I thought about the possibility, but asked soon after, “I thought you weren’t allowed to have co-ed parties?”

“Well, that’s my Papa’s rule,” she explained, “And I want him to come back home before my birthday, but if he doesn’t then Mama said I could have one.”

“OK, I’ll come,” I tried not to sound over-eager.

“Good. Or else it won’t be much of a mixed party,” she giggled, “Because I don’t know many other boys!”

I smirked. Girls were always worried about the silliest things.

Bonnie didn’t have to worry though. The end of the war came faster than we both expected. After so many years, I’d grown to forget about an armistice.

There were parades everywhere. I was given permission to wander the streets and observe the spectacle with Cindy and a classmate of mine by the name of Jim. All Jim really cared about was indulging on the free candy, so I casually ditched him after a few hours.

It was hard to join in the festivities when the thing they were celebrating the end of was the very same thing that had taken my father’s life. I kept looking through the crowds, hoping that by some miracle I’d see him. They could have been wrong, maybe it wasn’t his body they’d found. But as the day progressed, I came to terms with the truth; I was never going to see him again. The waiting was over; if he was ever coming back it would have been now. At least I could rest with knowing that Bonnie had got her wish, and my brothers were still alive.

That night, my second eldest brother, Johnny, finally arrived home. Even his return wasn’t enough to erase my father from our minds.

We all sat around the dinner table, Johnny doing most of the talking. He told us how Cord had stayed back to marry a beautiful French girl he’d met. He chattered on about his comrade friends and what a glorious life we would now live.

As I stared at my banged up brother, I felt like asking him if he really saw what was around him. There was a deceased father, a missing brother, an emotionally scarred young girl, a hardened boy and a mother who was slowly disappearing from existence. None of which whom were ready to live ‘glorious’ lives.

So, the reason Doc caught his mother crying so much in the last chapter was because she knew her husband was missing beforehand and was really stressed out by it. She found out about his death during the day, right before she had Doc pulled out of school to come home. And, I think that's all the author's notes for this one! I would really love to hear your thoughts, comments, questions, anything! Thanks for reading.  :smiley:

Amazing chapter! I really enjoyed it and like the scenes with Bonnie. I like the scene when he’s told about his father’s death. You just get better with each story! I’ve really enjoyed this so far.

Very nice! The scene where Doc learns that his father passed away was great. I felt pretty bad for him right there. The reference to Bonnie Hunt and Owen Wilson still makes me laugh. 8D

Anyway, nice job! Looking forward to reading some more.

Poor Doc, eh? :cry: Hahaha, it is such lame reference but it works! 8D Thanks for your feedback Jordan! :slight_smile:

No problem. I think you are really getting better with every fan-fic you do.

I love this story a lot so far! Your writing is really good!

To be honest, I really don’t read much Cars fan fiction (or much fan fiction at all, for that matter), but this piece caught my eye because it was about Doc, who is one of my most favorite characters! :slight_smile:

Stories set in the WWII era are always intriguing to me, so I really love the setting of this story first of all. The emotion was definitely there. It’s hard for me, personally, to feel the emotion in stories about regularly inanimate things, like toys or cars, but the fact that you were able to pull this off so effectively is really a feat in itself, and definitely something to be proud of!

Umm, I guess the only thing that seems off to me is Doc’s name. I always assumed that people called him “Doc” in Cars only because he was the town doctor, and never really imagined that to be his real name. Every person’s idea is different, however, so I’m not saying you should have done this or that. :stuck_out_tongue:

Other than that one minor detail, this is very good! Obviously I really like darker-toned fic anyway, so it was right up my alley, haha. Keep up all the wonderful writing, and congrats on winning Best Fanfic Writer, by the way! C:

little chef