my father's first convertible
was orange and grey
orange like tomato soup
the campbell soup car we called it
a used ‘58 dodge convertible
my little sisters and me
sitting across the back seat
net scarves on our heads
plastic sunglasses
grimacing into the wind all the way up kipling avenue
north into the caledon hills
his second convertible was brand new
a white ‘62 thunderbird with red upholstery
we can't afford this my mother said
dad would drive the car across the road to mainprize drugstore
park it by the curb with us girls in the back
net scarves tied around our necks
sunglasses in place
he'd go in for cigarettes or comics or gum
i'd see him wait behind the glass for somebody to stop and
admire the car
then he'd breeze out
jump into the driver's seat
hang on girls he'd say zooming away
and up into our driveway across the road
when my father got fed up with family life
he'd say we were lucky he didn't up and buy a harley
and head off into the wild blue
and he meant it
i remember thinking that was generous of him
to leave us his convertible
after the thunderbird came the red ‘63 dodge
and then the ‘65 honey-gold chev
the summer i was sixteen
my father taught me to drive
in his last convertible
a yellow ‘67 ford ltd
driving home alone east of rondeau
top down and no seat belt
my wheels slipped off the pavement into loose gravel
i jerked the wheel and the car spun
slow golden circles
i remember how my words like ballast
maintained their weight and order
this is an accident
i am having an accident
while the cornfields melted into green soup
nobody coming either way
and when i stopped spinning
i was in the ditch right-way-up
both hands on the steering wheel
i figured i'd died and slipped into another world
leaving my remains smeared all over highway 3
i figured this new world'd be different
pulled out of the ditch
and drove home
but nothing changed except my father switched from
convertibles to hardtops
what i want to know is how many dimensions exist on this world and if there are infinite numbers can one be exactly the same as another except one man chooses to buy hardtops instead of convertibles and in the dimension before i spun out on highway 3 would the man who bought convertibles decide to stay with his wife and not fool around with the lady half his age who drove a black corvette because maybe just maybe the convertibles struck the perfect balance for him or could it be that the man in the other world who decided after his daughter spun out on highway 3 to switch to hardtops was finally so bored by all those hardtops that he could not resist the lady in the black corvette