and its Prince
The cool morning greeted Father and me the moment we went outside to welcome the hired chauffeur who was taking us to the farm. At first, I could not take my eyes off the sleek 1959 Impala because its massive set of folding fins made me believe that it wasn’t a car, but a mythical bird ready to soar in flight.
Then my attention shifted when I saw Rolando get out of the car. I held my breath as I stared at that tall, lanky man holding a cigarette in his left hand. All I wanted to do was sit in the front seat next to him, and not in the back seat as Mother was expecting me to do.
Sheepishly, I whispered my wish into Father’s ears, begging him to let me sit next to him, but he was fearful, reminding me that it was best not to upset Mother at the start of our drive. “¡Mira! Ya sabes cómo se pone.” Look! You know how she gets, was his reply.
I would not relent, and instead flew through the car’s open front door and made myself small on the seat and didn’t pop up until Mother, by then already sitting in the back seat, called me to get in. However, it was too late for me to sit out back because Rolando had already pulled away from the curb.
Content with the results, I sat in the middle of the front seat with my right hand on Father’s thigh, as I always did when sitting next to him, and my left hand on the thigh of my newly found prince.