Chapter 22 Chapter 22“How can you not know how to drive?” Nathaniel asked. It was a surprisingly warm day, so he had the windows down. The wind was blowing through my hair.
We were driving around the island in Nathaniel’s car. Lots of people have cars that were passed down from family, except usually it’s a beat-up Ford Taurus with ripped interior and big rust pimples on the sides. Nathaniel had his grandfather’s 1960 Triumph. We realized as soon as we got in the car that we couldn’t go home. Dick and my mom were pretty focused on each other, but even they would guess school didn’t let out at noon.
“I didn’t need to know how to drive in Seattle,” I explained. “In civilization there’s this concept you may never have heard of called public transportation.”
“What is this thing you call transportation?”
I smacked him and rummaged through his lunch bag. He packed a way better lunch than I did. I popped a few of his grapes in my mouth. I dropped one and it rolled under my seat. Shit. Nathaniel kept his car immaculate. I suspected he buffed the leather seats with a soft cloth diaper. I casually leaned over and let my fingers search for the grape, but it was gone. It was going to fester under there until it became a raisin. I leaned back. I better enjoy this ride. Once he knew I left produce to rot in his car, I was going to be back riding my bike.
“Public transportation is better for the environment.” I carefully popped another grape into my mouth. “The eco-crowd loves me.”
“We already discussed that I’m responsible for global warming, so this adds nothing to the discussion. You must want to know how to drive. The open road. The freedom to go wherever your imagination leads.”
“We live on an island. Where am I going to go? Freedom to drive in circles, big deal.”
“Are you afraid to drive?” Nathaniel revved the engine as we wound around a corner.
“No, of course not.”
Nathaniel stopped in the middle of the road and set the hand brake. “Okay, I’ll teach you.”
“Now?” I nearly aspirated an entire grape.
“Why not?” Nathaniel opened the door and walked around. He opened my door and bent over as if he were a valet. “Go with the flow.”
I called his bluff and walked around to the driver’s side. No way was I going to mention that this car cost more than the house I used to live in. If something happened to this car I would have to sell a kidney to pay for the repairs, maybe two. Biology wasn’t my best subject, but I was pretty sure I needed to keep at least one. I took my time adjusting the mirrors and seat. I clicked my seat belt and placed my hands on the steering wheel.
“You ready? You’re going to place your foot on the clutch, shift the car into first, and slowly let up while at the same time starting to press on the gas. There isn’t much traffic around here, so you don’t have to worry. Just lightly press on the gas and we’re off.”
I took a deep breath and did as he instructed. I stepped on the gas and the car shot forward with a roar of the engine. The trees turned to a green blur on either side and Nathaniel let out a high scream. The engine shuddered and the car came to a lurching stop as it stalled. The wayward grape rolled out from under the passenger seat. Nathaniel took a few deep breaths with both hands braced on the console.
“Well, that was interesting,” Nathaniel said after a beat. “Here I saw you as a sort of brooding artsy type, and in reality, deep inside you have the heart of a Nascar driver.”
“I keep telling you, I’m not any particular type. Your gas pedal is really touchy.”
“It’s touchy because you stomped on it.”
“I didn’t stomp.” I yanked on the hand brake. “This is stupid. You drive.”
“I’m no good at this. I nearly killed us.”
“You aren’t allowed to kill us. You realize how that would increase the rumors of my family curse? You can’t give up this easy. You know what they say: winners never quit and quitters never win.”
“Your dad says that, doesn’t he? It has that Wickham home wisdom sound to it.”
“That’s nothing. You haven’t lived until you’ve been on the receiving end of the ‘you’re a disappointment to generations of Wickhams’ talk. It has subsections dealing with destiny, honor, and the American way.”
That surprised me. “How can your dad think you’re a disappointment? You’re …” My voice trailed off because what I’d planned to say was “you’re perfect,” which might have been a little too honest. “You’ve got everything going for you,” I said instead. “You’re smart. And you dress nice.”
Nathaniel laughed. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t just about everybody disappoint their parents? They say all they want is for us to be happy, but what they really want is for us to be their do-over. Their second chance at life.”
“Don’t forget how they want to show you off to their friends and point out what great parents they must be. So if you fail to live up to their standards, not only have you let them down on the do-over, but you’ve made them look bad to their friends.”
“Yeah, but you don’t let this stuff get to you like I do,” he said.
“What makes you think I don’t let it get to me?”
“You do your own thing. You don’t try to be a clone of your mom just to make her happy.”
“Have you looked at me? I’m wearing a cheerleader outfit. Tell me again how I do my own thing?”
“Fair enough. I expect to see you back to your all black uniform by tomorrow.”
“You can count on it.” I planned to burn this outfit as soon as I got home.
“You could keep the skirt. It’s black.”
“And about three inches long,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’ve got the legs for it.”
I gave my thighs a whack. “Gams of steal. Comes from all the bike riding and walking I’m doing around here.”
“Which brings us back to the car.”
“I’m officially hanging up my keys.”
“Quitter.”
“I’m not a quitter. I just don’t want to drive.” Nathaniel didn’t say anything. He just looked at me. I rubbed my hands on my skirt. “Okay, I don’t want to ruin your car.”
“This time take your foot off the brake and just let the car roll for a bit. Then we’ll try the gas-pedal thing again, nice and slow.”
“Why do you want to do this?”
“Isn’t it enough for me to thwart the environmentalists’ plan by turning another person into a carbon-burning car jockey?”
This time I was the one who didn’t say anything.
“Okay, if we’re going the honesty route, I want to do something for you. Something nice. This is what I’ve got,” Nathaniel said.
I felt a rush of adrenaline. “Let’s do this.” I looked over at him. “Does anyone ever call you Nate? Nathaniel’s really formal.”
“Nathaniel’s a family name. I think my dad picked it because it’s formal.”
I smiled. “So Nate it is.” I put the car back into gear and carefully lifted my foot off the brake. The car started rolling slowly forward.
“You got it. Nice and easy this time.”
I pressed softly on the gas and the car picked up speed. I was doing it. There wasn’t a stall or a shudder. We were going somewhere. We both let out a whoop at the same time.