It seemed as everything that was happening at that moment was irritating me, the tapping of the rain on the car, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth on the windshield and the whining of the saxophone that was playing along with the jazz song on the radio. I knew that my patience was being tested that day and I was sure I would fail. For the next ten minutes I watched as the instructors, that looked as if someone dropped a bucket of water on them even with the yellow raincoats, left one car that was on the course to get into another car that was on the line. The cars seemed to move quickly and it seemed as if my turn was coming to quick. It was at that moment that I felt like I wanted to cry, the wet figure in the yellow raincoat was approaching our car.
I had just got off work at 5pm and my co worker was outside smoking a cigarette and yelled out “go ahead and show me that you can really burnout”, as I got in my car, and of course I wouldn’t say no. I put my car in gear and took off and burned rubber in the empty parking lot, as I’m sliding out the parking lot I hear a loud pop, it’s my front passenger tire that popped and the next thing I knew I had no control of the car and ahead of me is a curb that leads into a shopping center but is about 10 feet down. At this point my car is in the air and the car lands nose first flipping the car upside down. I crawl out the car and realize I just totaled my mother’s car. Driving fast in the car I built is my favorite thing to do and it had got me in plenty of trouble but I felt as the rush was worth it.
I was the first one to be conscious again. As soon as the car stops spinning, I felt a stimulant sensation in waves from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head, a pure adrenaline rush. First thing I try to do is to wake up R by shaking his head when I notice his clothes covered in red silhouettes like if roses were printed in his shirt. There is blood coming out of his nose as his head rests against the noisy claxon while he is unresponsive. Among desperation and chaos, I stormed out of the car and tried to open the car’s back door to check on G. He was conscious but confused to the point when I first started talking to him, he would just stare at me like a child who does not know how to talk yet and just only perceives, shocked by the impact.
I was driving with my learners permit so my husband only allowed me to drive but so far. I could drive to work, my mom house, sisters house, mall, etc. Anywhere that I could get going the street way I drove. I knew in order to get my drivers license I would have to learn how to drive on busy intersections and the express way. I hadn’t driven on the express way yet because I was terrified.
It was about a 15-minute drive to the campsite and we had to be there by ten otherwise the gate closes. It was just like any other boring night in Rochester, MN, where nothing out of the ordinary happens. I was driving my car on a four-lane road going eastbound. As I was driving I took note of a car behind me and the three cars coming at me in the opposite lane going westbound. As the cars in the on-coming lane going westbound passed me, I looked up into my rear view mirror as a natural reaction.
The car waits outside along the driveway its engine purring and windows rolled up and horn hacking away. “All right, we’re coming you don’t have to wake the bloody neighborhood,” yelled out Wendy leading the way towards the red tinted window car covered in dents and muck. “Stupid, idiot,” braked Wendy even more perplexed as she glances up and down the drive takes a beeline towards Megan. “Did it ever occur to you to book this trip at night and not during the busiest time of the day,” express Wendy. Megan rolls her eyes, “It’s what I could squeeze out at the last minute,” she blurted back a little bit annoyed.
The rest of the day is pretty usual, a couple of fights and a test. Sound extreme? Not for the students of Bloom High School, this is a good day. In the same town a mile away there is a Private Catholic High School; this is their day. I drive to school and pull up; in my Mercedes in the parking lot, there is an Escalade in front of me and a Porche behind me, and I hate having a cheap car.
The worst part of it, is that we live on a commercial street so it can get pretty busy, luckily there were no cars passing or stopped at the light. I pressed on the brake quickly and of course I got yelled at and I got blamed, but I told my mom it was her fault for telling me the car was in drive and I also blamed the car for being old. Typical me. Of course, everyone on the porch was laughing at me and my nephews and niece came outside also and were just there looking at what was going on. After that, I put the car in drive, this time it actually was in drive so I did one thing
Sniffed Out "All right chief, puff, puff, pass!" This reminder of smoker’s etiquette attempts to rise from the back seat, but the bumping speakers drown it out. I am in the driver’s seat of my car, floating on a thick cloud of music and smoke. My eyes close, my lungs fill, my head nods and becomes lost inside a hip-hop haze of bass, high hats, and trumpets. Just before Big Boi introduces his “Spottieottiedopaliscious Angel” a hand cuts through the smoke and whacks me in the back of the head.
But happen it did! That sunny June afternoon was like a thousand others. Dave was out of town, due back that evening. I had a few errands to run, and I needed to move his classic ‘71 corvette convertible, which he had recently taught me to drive, in order to get my car out of the garage. Always conscientious, I carefully backed it down the driveway, then slowly up the other side of the driveway.