Driving Lesson

It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon in late April when Mom said, “Diane, we’re going for a drive.”

My dad was working the 3 to 11 shift today, so I asked, “Should I go get the others? I think they’re over at the Lara’s.”

“No. It’ll be just us.”

I followed her out to her 1963 white Comet. She had purchased this used car last year, shortly after she finally got her driver’s license at age 40. My older brother and I jokingly called it the “Flintstonemobile” because the floorboard on the passenger side was rusted through.

Mom drove to a small mall about two miles away, then turned into the back parking lot. It was empty because all the stores were closed on Sundays. She shut off the motor and turned to me. “Time for you to learn how to drive.” She opened her door and walked around to my side. “Get over.”

This surprised me because I’d been told I couldn’t drive until I could get my own policy. As I slid across the bench seat, I said, “I can’t afford insurance now.”

“You turned 18 last week, so it’s time. I’ve already talked to your father.”

She pointed to the floor. “The lever to the left is the clutch. Brake is the middle one. Gas is the right. I want you to always brake with your right foot. Many people use their left and don’t realize they’re riding the brake, so their taillights are always on. Put your left foot on the clutch now and press it all the way down. As you slowly ease up on the clutch, gently press on the gas pedal with your right foot.”

I tried to do as she instructed.

“No, that’s too much gas. Try again.”

When we were going about 20 mph, she said, “Time to shift gears. Fully engage the clutch, then move the gear shift to 2nd gear.”

The Comet groaned in response.

“You released the clutch too soon, that’s why it was grinding. Take it up to 30, then shift it into 3rd.”

I managed to do this without it bellyaching at me. We spent over an hour driving, stopping, parking, and changing gears. I was shocked when she said, “Drive home.”

When I stopped at a red light on Ridge Road, she said, “On a hill, you must give it a bit more gas as you release the clutch.”

I tried, but the car rolled back and nudged the vehicle behind us. Mom jumped out and spoke with its owner. The man didn’t yell.

When she was back inside, I managed to get the car moving up the hill and through the intersection when the light turned green again. The next hill on our way home was higher, but I managed the art of releasing the clutch with the right amount of gas. I parked on the street in front of our house when we got home.

Mom said, “We’ll go get your learner’s permit on Monday.”

I raced next door to tell my best friend the news.

Cats

Cream with dollops of caramel coloring, Macchiato kneads the afghan on the couch. Tips of fur the color of a lightly toasted marshmallow, Mr. Toasty naps on the recliner.

A beautiful fall afternoon, I go out on the patio and close the screen behind me. Sitting in my comfy chair, I light a cigarette. My downstairs neighbor Jenta takes garbage to the dumpster then stops to chat. I stand and move closer to the railing.

Unnoticed by me, Mr. Toasty comes up to the screen and waves his tail. “There she goes again. Why won’t Ma let us go outside with her?”

Macchiato sighs as she joins him. “There’s always that awful smell when she does this.”

He flicks an ear. “It’s not as bad as when I lived with that man. He was always surrounded by smoke clouds. Besides, I want to explore. Maybe get close to one of those hummingbirds.”

She licks his ear. “They certainly look tasty.”

He switches his tail. “She isn’t paying attention. I know I can pop it open. Let’s go!”

Macchiato nips his ear. “Don’t think we should. She’ll get out that blue bottle. I don’t like it. I hate water!”

“That won’t stop me. Besides, Ma has a terrible aim. She rarely sprays me with a single drop of water. You’re such a scaredy cat!” He almost chuckles. “I’ll give her one of my disdainful looks as I strut away.”

She sighs. “You were never abused, or you’d be afraid too.”

“Ma only raises her voice. She won’t hurt us!” Toasty places his paw on the screen. He carefully stretches out his claws and pushes the screen sideways. “Let’s go!”

He struts outside and heads south to the planter furthest from where Ma stands. Macchiato squeaks as her paw touches the concrete pavement. I hear her and swiftly turn to scold her. “What are you doing? Get back inside!”

She turns back. As I close the screen, I notice him. “What do you think you’re doing lover boy?”

He ignores me and tries to burrow past the planters. I pick Toasty up and open the door. I give him a little push to propel him indoors. He struts away with a haughty flick of his tail.

Resolutions

Fourteen-year-old Dotty scowled as she looked over her paper. She would go back to school tomorrow and had put off doing this assignment because she was afraid that Mrs. Phillips would ask for these to be read aloud.

She decided to reorder her list of resolutions, putting the most important one last. Doing it this way maybe the other girls would not tease her so much. They certainly didn’t need more ammunition for their bullying. She has hated the Kool-Aid Funny Face commercials ever since they began calling her pimple-faced Dorothy in sing-song voices.

Dotty finished eating a large package of chips. Still hungry, she searched through her hidden stash of goodies, then munched on peanut butter and cheese crackers. Her junk craving satisfied; she started over on a new page.

My Resolutions

1. Be more help to Aunt Thelma.
2. Be kind to everyone.
3. Get better grades, especially History.
4. Lose weight.
5. Do more exercising.
6. Ace my sewing class.
7. Get a job.

Dotty had searched through the remnants at the fabric store in September. Even though she’d chosen the two cheapest ones, Aunt Thelma had quibbled at the cost. She had said, “This means no packages of Twinkies for you this month.” Dotty nodded that she understood.

Maybe she could wash dishes after school at the greasy spoon where Aunt Thelma worked. The only problem was that she hated scrubbing pots. Getting a job would mean having enough money to purchase the kind of cloth that was shown in Vogue. Making new clothes might help her fit in with her classmates. Snotty Susan Ames seemed to have a new article of clothing every other week.

Dotty glanced at the clock, then put away her homework. In the kitchen, she washed up her breakfast and lunch dishes because her aunt would soon be home. Finished, she picked up a Harlequin romance novel to read.

Aunt Thelma arrived carrying take-out packages. These contained BLT sandwiches and onion rings tonight. Her aunt, as always, puffed on a cigarette as she ate, then put it out in her food. Knowing Thelma would grab a beer and drink several, Dotty gulped down her meal then excused herself. She grabbed the novel she’d left open on a chair arm, then fled to her bedroom.

She cried as she closed the book. Heroines always got their man. She wondered if she would ever have a boyfriend. Fantasizing how hers would look, she drifted off to sleep.

After eating bacon and eggs along with toast slathered with butter and grape jam, Dotty stared into the mirror as she popped the pimples and poked up the black heads then brushed her teeth. Glancing at the bedroom clock, she rushed to dress. After putting on her galoshes, she picked up the mountain of textbooks and her three-ring binder. She locked the run-down trailer’s door and put her key in a pocket.

Yesterday’s sleet had turned into snow overnight. She very carefully walked the two miles to the high school. Startled, she almost fell when a jalopy filled with guys tooted their horn beside her. Dotty was still putting her things into her locker when the first bell rang. She almost bumped into Susan as she turned with her English book in hand.

“Look at pimple-faced Dorothy in her same old clothes.”

Her clique giggled as they walked past. One said, “Watch out! Got to be careful. Don’t wanna catch her Cooties!”

Dotty glanced at them. Each wore go-go boots, and their skirts were more than an inch above their knees. She didn’t say anything, just put her head down and walked to homeroom. She couldn’t help gloating when Susan was sent to the principal’s office because her skirt wasn’t just rolled at the waist. It was actually that short. Dotty said, “present” when her name was called.

When she got to last period Social Studies, Mrs. Phillips surprised her. She said, “I asked you to write down your resolutions. Now I want you to think hard about those. Will you achieve each goal? If so, how will you accomplish it? Is any unrealistic? If so, why did you include it?” She paused. “You have till the end of class. Put both papers on my desk before you leave.”

Dotty glanced over her paper then detached it. She began writing on a fresh page.

1. Do dishes before being told. Don’t complain about going to the laundromat.
2. Better to be quiet than to answer back when they tease me. Lord says to turn the other cheek.
3. This could be difficult. I can’t seem to retain dates and events together. I’m going to try using  flashcards.
4. Going to limit myself to only one package of potato chips a day and go without any sweets. This will be extremely difficult for me.
5. Get up earlier and follow the exercises on the Jack LaLanne show.
6. I’m sure this is perfectly possible.
7. I may be too young, but I won’t know unless I try.

Dotty checked the blackboard, then wrote down the homework assignment. She placed both papers in the inbox on her teacher’s desk.

When she reached home, she tuned the kitchen radio to WCFL. As she washed dishes, she sang along to the Beatles song:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Taking the song to be an omen, Dotty smiled. “I know I will succeed.”

The Vixen

“Oh, hello Don. Nice of you to visit me. What’s up?”

“Came to see how you’re doing. I’m worried about you, bro.”

I turn to stare at him. “Why?”

“You seem a little off your feed.”

“So what?”

He mutters, “A bit grouchy too.”

I frown. “Heard that. Wouldn’t you be upset if it happened to you?”

Don shakes his head. “The big guy knows what he’s doing. It will work out just great.”

“That upstart can lead. I have no difficulty with that.”

He stares at me a long moment. “Then what’s your problem?”

I sigh. “I’ll never understand the female psyche.”

Don gulps. “Don’t know. I’m not inclined in that direction.”

“What does she even see in him?”

“Dunno. I don’t find him the least bit attractive.” He clears his throat. “You going to roast chestnuts for her this year?”

“How many did the big guy give you last year?”

“Only five.”

“Then no. I got 20 for leading. Five won’t be enough to bother.”

“Uhm.” He rubs his nose. “Maybe you could ask Buddy to get you some.”

I shake my head. “Guess you haven’t heard. He went south. Said he didn’t fit here.”

Don grunts. “Yes, he was definitely oversized. Don’t let her get you down, big guy.” He walked away.

She continued ignoring me. I couldn’t sleep. Lost without her warmth beside me. I even almost stepped on Pepper two days later.

“Hey watch it you big galoot! Pick up your head and look where you’re going.”

“Geez. Sorry Pepper.”

Pepper stared up at me. “What’s the matter with you?”

I frowned. “Vixen is giving me the cold shoulder, and I don’t know how to get her back.”

“She’s a player that one. True to her name.” Pepper chuckled. “You’re better off without the likes of her.”

A week passed and I remained in a funk.

On the special day, I was placed beside her. But her gaze was fastened on him. Her beauty overwhelmed me. Hypnotized, I stared at her, oblivious to our surroundings.

Thirty minutes later, Don kicked me.

“Ouch. Watch where you’re going!”

Don yelled. “Yo! Been calling you. Rudy can’t handle it. We’re gonna crash. Dasher do something!”

Shaken out of my reverie, I saw Rudolph was straining to carry the load by himself. His red nose was dim, and his strides were off kilter. The blustery Chicago wind was pushing us off course.

I concentrated hard, sending my thoughts to Rudy. “Don’t shut us out. Let us in.” I focused more. “Believe me. We can help. Feel the joy. Share the love.”

Donner, Cupid, and Comet joined their concentration with mine. “Believe. Feel joy. Share love.”

Prancer, Blitzen, and Dancer echoed us. “Joy. Love.”

Rudolph quit straining and matched his glide to ours. We narrowly passed Sears Tower and came down on Wacker Drive. Santa looked shaken for a moment, then emitted a hearty chuckle. “Well, at least we didn’t land in Lake Michigan.” He rummaged in his sack, then was gone in a flash.

The big man called me into his office when we got back to the North Pole. He looked firmly into my eyes. “I need Rudolph to light our way, but today you proved you are the leader of the pack.” He counted 20 chestnuts and handed those to me. “Thank you.”

As I roasted the nuts to share with everyone, I thought about Vixen. She hadn’t helped us when we needed it. Though we had often shared carnal pleasure, I doubted she knew true love. I was better off without her.

The Forest

He was not, then he was. He sprang from nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. He had no sense of time, past or present. He did not know right from wrong, good or evil. He did not know his name, yet they called him by several.

At first, he was a shadow-like form that drifted through the heart of the woods. But his form changed based upon the imagination of others, growing with their thoughts, becoming increasingly terrible.

In the beginning, a boy named Mark described him to his friends. As a gang, they came to his sanctuary, taunting him to appear. When he did, the youngest boy, who had survived rheumatic fever, fainted from fright. The others carried this child home where he died a few hours later.

Each repetition of an encounter with him gave this creature strength. One day he suddenly had eyes that glowed as red and black as burning coals. For the first time, he could see his twig-like appendages. Over time these solidified into actual digits. They described him as gruesomely horrible, and so it was what he became.

A hunger grew in him. He craved their energy, feeding from their fear. As he changed, so did the forest. The trees closest to his proximity turned into deadwood. These skeletal shadows enhanced his form.

After the boys and teens, men approached carrying ghost-busting equipment. This didn’t help them, because he wasn’t a ghost. He was now more than any shadow. He emitted a barking laugh, deep and guttural. Hearing this, they fled in terror. He enjoyed dining on their fear, thought it a marvelous feast, and hoped they would come again.

People continued to talk and to visit. Thanks to them, he had become the phantom of the forest!