My family and I panted as we finished putting the boxes in the two Pine green colored trucks We closed the trucks and trudged to each side of the two trucks. I dropped down in the seat and stared out the open door before sitting up to tug my blond, curly, noodle like hair into a tight ponytail. I slammed my door closed and slid my seatbelt around my body. I let the sound of silence crash down on me like waves. The silence broke as my dad slammed his door closed. I gave him a quick glance before turning to the window and staring at the large tan building. “You ready, kiddo?” I could basically hear the smile on his face as he spoke. “If we’re being honest here, no” I snickered. He pats my head and started the car. The car roared before falling
I love riding four wheelers. I also love to adventure so I guess you could say my character trait is being adventurous. I’ve been riding my whole life, you think I’m kidding but my mom even rode four wheelers when she was pregnant with me so yeah. I got my very first four wheeler when I was three and I rode it till I was nine, but then I wanted to ride with the big boys or girls or whatever. When I was ten I got Yamaha blaster two hundred. It was my first manual transmission four wheeler. It was also a fixer upper, so I restored it to original condition and learned valuable knowledge along the way. So now I know a lot about four wheelers. When I got done fixing it it was a lot better than before. So I figured I was ready to learn how ride a
In the 1950’s it was dangerous for black people to be in specific places after a certain time of day. Many of the blacks did not know where to go after sunset because safe places were only told by mouth and many people did not pass the information around. In the 1930’s a black civic leader by the name of, Victor H. Green, came up with a plan to help black travelers know where to go. Victor made a book called “The Negro Motorist's Green Book” or more commonly known as “The Green Book” (Matthews). This book was helpful to many black travelers, but it was frustrating and embarrassing to have this book, in the passage it says, “Green's guidebook was horrifyingly, frustratingly necessary for African-American motorists, business travelers, and
I woke up my dad and told him that it was already light outside. He jumped out of bed and said we had to go. I went outside and started up the truck while my dad was getting dressed. When I opened the door to the trailer I noticed clear blue skies and a light frost that covered the ground. I jumped in the driver's seat of the 1990 white GMC Sierra, pushed in the clutch, and turned the key. The truck hesitated for about ten seconds and then started. I turned on the defroster and the windshield wipers so we wouldn?t have to scrape the frost.
Caytie and I grabbed the bulky helmets from the garage and we pulled on thick goggles. I grabbed the handlebars and pulled off into the darkness, the headlight bouncing in front of us. We took a few laps around the yard, swapping passengers every couple of laps. That’s when my Dad came back out again. As we pulled up, I could already hear him trying to convince Caytie to drive the snowmobile. Caytie looked like a bobble head, shaking her head “no” so much you would’ve thought it would fall off. As Maddie and I removed ourselves from the snowmobile, we joined in, trying to talk her into driving the machine. Finally, she caved, with a long drawn out, “Fine!” That’s all my Dad
A gust of air audibly exited my lungs as I opened the creaky door of my mother’s beat up four door car. Charley didn’t have the same spring in his step that was present in his youth, but he did his best to run over and hop in. I wish he didn’t try so hard. My heart sank as he made vain attempts at pulling himself into the vehicle. I bent down and gave him a little assistance. He was quick to turn around and look at me anxiously. He never felt comfortable if I wasn’t sitting with him. I took my place in the back seat and slowly closed the door.
I've been four wheeling since I was about three. Id say its pretty fun when you're not busy crashing. My favorite thing about four wheeling is having the wind blow in my face, it makes me feel free in a way. When i'm with my family four wheeling nothing can stop us so you better watch out. My best experience while riding a four wheeler was when I was about nine my grandpa and my four year old sister were together on one four wheeler and I was on my own we were riding down the road when my grandpa said “ Aryona do you want to go down there?” i was a little scared at first, but he told me it would be okay, so i said “yes.” Once we got down there I was happy I decided to go because It was awesome! One of my favorite things about
As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the car, the questions began.
Four wheeling has been one of my family’s favorite activities for my whole life. Both of my parents even grew up riding. They kept the tradition of riding in our family by giving me my first four wheeler when I was five years old. I would take it on miniature trail rides until it eventually gave out and I had to hop on with my parents. We have continued that tradition by going on many four wheeling trips every summer.
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
“Goodbye boys, I’m going to the mall for about two hours, don’t get into any trouble when I’m gone!” My mom yelled as she slammed the door and went to the mall. She took my dad’s 1997 Chevy that would be just perfect for everything that she would buy there. And my dad was asleep on the couch after watching three hours of wrestling. Me and Johnny sat there bored out of our minds, two twelve-year-old boys with nothing to do. “ Hey, didn’t your parents just get that new 2001 Toyota Corolla that they hardly ever drive?” Johnny asked me. “ Ya, why?” I said with fear. “Well your dad is zonked out on the couch for at least an hour, and your mom just went to the mall for two hours, what more of a perfect chance will we ever get to take that baby for a spin around town for a while? I mean we play those racing games at the arcade all the time, how much different can it be? And it’s not really that much bigger than the go-carts at Fun Land, so come on, let’s do it!!!” I sat there wondering if he was serious or not, until I decided that it might not be that bad of an idea.
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
I wearily drag myself away from the silken violet comforter and slump out into the living room. The green and red print of our family’s southwestern style couch streaks boldly against the deep blues of the opposing sitting chairs, calling me to it. Of course I oblige the billowy haven, roughly plopping down and curling into the cushions, ignoring the faint smell of smoke that clings to the fabric. My focus fades in and out for a while, allowing my mind to relax and unwind from any treacherous dreams of the pervious night, until I hear the telltale creak of door hinges. My eyes flutter lightly open to see my Father dressed in smart brown slacks and a deep earthy t-shirt, his graying hair and beard neatly comber into order. He places his appointment book and hair products in a bag near the door signaling the rapid approaching time of departure. Soon he is parading out the door with ever-fading whispers of ‘I love you kid,’ and ‘be good.’
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.
It was February 10th, 2015 when I had come home from school and had my dad take me out for driving practice. It was the day before my driver’s test and I had my dad in the passenger’s seat. It was a chilly afternoon and I was so anxious that I was excessively shivering. As I accelerated to move into