ComingofAge
佚名/Anonymous
Okay,I』lladmitit.Sittingbehindthewheelofmyfirstcarbeforeitwastowedofftothejunkyard,Icried.Youcantellmeacarisonlysomuchglassandsteel,butI』llneverapologizeforlosingmycoolthatday.Ayoungman』sfirstcarislessameansoftransportationthanamonumenttohisdiscoveryofyouthfulfreedom.Atleastminewas.
Ithadallstartedtwoyearsearlier:Soonaftermy16thbirthday,myparentsretiredtheoldredfamilycarandpasseditontome.Beforelong,thatcarandIhadbecomethebestfriends.Wegaveridestojustaboutanyonewhoasked,anytime,anywhere,andhadallsortsofadventures.
Someoftheadventureswereprettyhair-raising.Onefamousafternoonafterschool,Ipiledtenfriendsintothecar,includingEric,whooptedtorideinthetrunkratherthanbeleftbehind.Wewerejustdrivingaround,feelinggood,talkingabouteverythingandnothing.AndalthoughIhadbeengoingonlyabout20milesanhour,thecollisionwithaschoolbusfullofseven-year-oldscrumpledthefrontofmycar.MyfirstthoughtwasEricinthetrunk.Irushedoverandopenedittofindhimlyingmotionless.Igasped.Heopenedhiseyesandlaughed,「You』retheworstdriverontheplanet.」
Bystandersstaredas,onebyone,tendazedhigh-schoolsophomorescrawledoutofmycar.Nooneonthebuswashurt,thoughonelittlegirlwascryingbecauseshehadtogotothebathroom.Asfarasthelittleboyswereconcerned,Iwasahero.Theycrowdedaroundmeinadmiration.Eventhepoliceofficersmanagedtosmile.
Myparents—furious,ofcourse—settledonmypunishment:Iwouldusemyupcomingsummerwagestopayfortherepairs.Tolessenthefinancialblow,Iinsistedthatthemechanicfixthecarwithusedparts.Sowhentheworkwascompleted,theoldredcarhadagreenhood,ayellowfenderandbluedoor.Ididn』tcare.Thecarwasfarfromabeauty,butshewasmine.
Thatsummer,onceschoolwasout,Ifoundmyfreedomexpandedhugely.OndayswhenmyfriendsandIwouldoncehaveriddenbikestothepublicpool,wedrovemycaralongtheriverroadtoexploreanoldabandonedtrainstation.Insteadofridingtobaseballgamesinthecoach』svanlikelittlekids,wenowrodeinmycarassophisticatedadults.Weworesunglasses,andspitsunflowerseedsoutthewindowandfeltasgoodasifwe』dalreadywonthegame.
OnenightwhileIwaswashingdishesattherestaurantwhereIworked,myfriendsremovedthewheelsfrommycarandleftitstandingdisabledandawkwardonconcreteblocksintheparkinglot.Decidingthebestreactiontotheirtrickwastoignoreit,Iwalkedhome.ThenextmorningIfoundthecarinfrontofmyhouse,coveredwithatwo-inchlayerofshavingcream.
Onebyone,myfriendsgotdriver』slicensesandbroughtdifferentautomotiveoptionstoourfold.Butafterafewdaystryingoutwhoeverwasthenewest,wealwayswoundupbackinmyoldcar.Eventhen,Iwonderedwhy.Itwasn』tflashy—exceptforthosemulti-coloredparts,itlookedjustlikethesensiblefamilycarithadoncebeen.Itwasn』tfast—55milesanhourwasastretch.Anditcertainlywasn』tcomfortable—therewasnoairconditioning,andonhotdaysourbarelegsstucktotheseats.