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Tuesday
February 14, 2012
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Content Rating Notice:  Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
  >> Book >> Writing >> ID #1565859  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Writing Day By Day
Challenging myself to write 500 words per day!
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Entry #652830, added on 06-02-09 @ 8:52 pm EDT
   Entry Access Restriction: None.
June 2--524 wordsEntry #652830
It seemed the perfect way to spend a summer afternoon. The old Rambler had gas in it, Sheri's parents were away and the pasture beckoned. She was going to teach me to drive.
Two teenaged girls in an old car with no air conditioning and only an AM radio. The Rambler was a dull gold with vinyl seats and worn carpet on the floorboards. It had been stuck once in a high water and still showed water stains on its interior. It was a worn old car. It was perfect.
First we got into our normal sides of the car; she in the driver's seat and me riding shotgun. The windows were rolled down letting in the slight breeze in an effort to take some of the edge off of the stifling heat. Even so our blue jean-shorted legs stuck to the vinyl upholstery and sweat rolled down our backs.
We drove over rough, bumpy pasture to get to a somewhat flat stretch on which I would learn to drive. Once there, Sheri and I switched sides of the car, exchanging one sweaty sticky seat for another. Once situated she began her lesson. Press the brake, put the car in gear and let off slowly. I must have forgot the slowly part because I let off suddenly and the car lurched forward. I slammed on the brake effectively stopping us in our tracks. After patiently explaining again how to move forward I once again let off too quickly although not as badly as before. Another twenty or so tries and I had it.
Next I actually had to press on the gas and drive forward. Sheri must have had nerves of steel because she never complained about the too-fast starts and stops. I stomped on the gas too hard and we shot forward across the pasture. I was driving! No, I wasn't according to my friend. Try again. I did and again and again. Eventually, after repeated whiplashing starts and stops I got the hang of it.
Turning wasn't as bad. Since the field grass was fairly high and the ground still rough in this spot, it was harder to turn than it would have been on a regular blacktop road. While my turns weren't as wild as my starts and stops they still had much to be desired.
Backing was altogether a different animal. If there is something to be hit or a ditch to fall off in, I'm going to find it by backing a car. Luckily, by now, Sheri knew enough to keep a close eye on me and another eye on where we were going. I only made a few attempts at backing before she had enough of playing driving instructor.
She allowed me to drive back to the house, bumpy pasture and all. I was a young girl tasting her first of teenaged freedom! The roar of a two thousand pound machine that I had complete control over was intoxicating! Then, all too soon, we were parked, the adventure over. Sheri's parents would be home from work soon and we would have to pretend that we'd had a normal, boring day hanging out at the house. Ah, summer memories!















© Copyright 2009 Nikola (UN: nmarshall at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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