Wheel

October 11, 2024

“Come on, Harley, can you come out here for me?” My dad said one sunny October afternoon, shortly before my fourteenth birthday.

“Coming, dad!” I was always so eager for any of his attention at that point in time. I would have done anything he said. I bounced out the front door to see him standing next to his old blue pick up truck. He had been working on it all morning, and it sparkled in the sunlight, momentarily blinding me.

“It’s time you learned to drive, don’t you think?” No, I did not think so, but I did what I could to make my face appear to be excited. I knew mom would be furious, even though there wasn’t anyone around for miles. I remember nodding feverishly, hoping he couldn’t see the fear of mom's wrath on my face. Just as I had expected, she was furious with us when we got back, but I am getting ahead of myself.

“Climb in, kiddo!” He held the door open for me and I climbed in, using all the strength in my little body to hoist myself into the tall cab. I was small for my age, due to a sickness when I was too little to remember, so my mother liked to treat me like the baby she still saw me as. Even to this day she treats me like I am a baby, sick in the bassinet next to her bed.

“Turn the key and start her up!” he says while climbing in with ease. I felt heat rise to my face due to a combination of embarrassment that I struggled so much to get into my seat, while he did so with such ease, and partly because I knew that this would cause a fight when we got home, but, again, I would have done a back flip if he had asked me to at that age.

“Okay, now, both hands on the wheel, and press lightly on the gas before we even put it in gear. I want you to get a feel for the sounds and smells and everything.” I did as I was told and revved the engine. “Beautiful! Now put this puppy into gear!” he said excitedly and showed me how to do so by motioning in the air above the center counsel. I had never seen him so excited to teach me something. There was a fire in his eyes that I still haven’t seen from him again.

The truck started to roll and my dad let out a deep belly laugh at the fear that must have showed itself on my face. He always thought that my fear was funny, but I remember this time it felt different, it felt like we were in on a joke together, rather than the joke being about me. I giggled nervously, trying to act cool in front of him. He, as it turned out, was a great driving instructor, and by the time that the sun was setting and we were pulling back up to the house, I was feeling confident. But, as I had feared, we pulled up to the house, and there stood my mother, in her favorite apron, hair pulled back in a tight bun, with fire in her eyes.

“Harley, go wash up for dinner, I have to talk to your father.” she said through her teeth.

I never heard what she said, but my dad walked in looking like a kicked puppy with his tale between his legs, and never mentioned it again. He tried to teach me to drive again a year later, but even then, he didn’t mention that we had been there before and that I already knew what I was doing. To this day, I wonder what she said to him. I may never know.