An Anecdotal Life

110

         Every teenager who has ever been handed a set of keys and the control of a motor vehicle has had the urge to do something wildly, unapologetically stupid with those gifts. My urge came a few days after my seventeenth birthday, riding behind the wheel of my mother's Honda Accord, my best friend Brandi by my side and my little brother, Jerry, in the backseat. I didn't put up too big a fight.

         We were returning from my grandmother's farm, where we had just spent an exhausting weekend swimming, horseback riding, and getting terribly sunburnt in general. The mini-vacation had left the three of us in good spirits, singing badly to the radio and gossiping shameless in between songs. Soon enough, the conversation turned to the boring drive between the farm and the city where we lived.

         "I hate this stretch," Jerry said, throwing himself back against the seat and crossing his arms.

         "I don't really think it can be helped." I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, amused at the bit of fuzz on his upper lip that he'd let accumulate over the weekend.

         "No, but I wish we could at least go a hundred or something," he grumbled. Ben (the nickname for Brandi, god knows why) peeked over at the speedometer--I was cruising at seventy--then out at the empty expanse of road.

         "How fast can we go?" she asked. I arched a brow at her.

         "Probably not faster than the cops."

         "There aren't any cops, dork," she said, looking over her shoulder just in case. I caught a flash of movement in the rearview mirror; Jerry was joining her in the search.

         "Nope, no one!" he chirped cheerfully. I gave them both an incredulous look.

         "No way in hell am I going to floor it on this road!" I cried, but the desire to see what the Honda could do was creeping into the back of my consciousness.

         "So go off onto a side road, they'll be safer. Nobody to pull out in front of you," Ben added encouragingly. I studied her as best I could while driving, then eyed Jerry in the mirror. No matter how game he was now, if something went wrong, he was a rather large potential tattle factor.

         "Are you both sure?"

         "Yeah!"

         "Totally!"

         I gave a helpless shrug, easing the vehicle slower to pull off onto one of the many side roads that spilled onto the main drag. For anyone who has never been to southeast Texas, it is flat. Dead flat. We would be able to see if anyone was coming from a mile away, and the road before us now was straight as a pin.

         "Seatbelts?" I asked. I got two thumbs up in return. "Right then."

         All systems go, I punched it. The heavy little Honda lurched slightly before gripping the pavement securely, shooting us forward. Ben grinned wildly, giggling in her excitement. Behind me, Jerry was keeping watch for any potential interferences by the law.

         "Faster!" he urged. My foot was already leaden on the gas pedal, but I gave it more. Seventy...seventy-five...eighty-two...ninety-nine...

         "A hundred and ten!" I squealed, then started as the wheel jerked in my hand. Our pavement had the bad manners to come to an abrupt end, leaving us skidding berserkly across the gravel that had taken its place.

         "Ohmigod," Jerry gasped as I flung him hard against his seatbelt in a supreme effort to correct the fishtailing vehicle.

         He and Ben flung their hands out, trying to find something solid to grip while I fought for control of the car. Teeth clenched painfully, I had just eased us back down to eighty when Ben cried out.

         "What the hell is that?!" she screamed, releasing one precious hold on safety to point a few yards down the road. I lifted my gaze from the area directly in front of my hood to see what she was talking about. A long, dark lump raised up about a foot and a half off the ground across the road. What the hell was that?

         "It's a goddamn railroad track!" Jerry bellowed in my ear, having leaned forward to have a look for himself. I let out a string of mental curses and scanned quickly for a way out. There were deep ditches on either side; we were stuck.

         "Hold on!" I yelled, leaning as far back into my seat as I could, both hands on the wheel with my elbows locked. I was dimly aware of Ben covering her face and Jerry laying flat across the back seat when we hit.

         Time actually stopped. I have never before or since been in an airborn car, but it is an experience I will never forget. Nothing was moving but the car, not even the birds outside the windows. It felt like we were flying forever, but it could only have been seconds. There was no noise, not even of breathing, for none of us dared. It was magic--dark magic, but magic all the same.

         The crash when we landed made a tremendous noise, but left virtually no damage. We screamed then, Ben and I, and Jerry began to cry. I didn't blame him. Vaguely aware that I must maintain control of the vehicle, I kept us straight, heart slamming against my ribs as the car finally dropped to a speed where I could brake safely. When we were finally stopped, I suppressed the urge to get out and throw up, turning instead to my passengers.

         "Everyone okay?" I asked quietly, hands still gripping the wheel to keep them from shaking.

         "Mmhmm," Ben nodded weakly. I couldn't see Jerry in the mirror anymore, but I heard him sniffle somewhere near the floorboard.

         "Yes," he said after a moment, his voice muffled by Ben's seat. I nodded resolutely and shifted the car to turn us around.

         "Okay then," I said calmly, "we're going home."

         We eased sedately back over the train tracks toward the main road. Nobody spoke again until the car was back on solid pavement.

         "Never speaking of this again?" I asked nonchalantly.

         "Nope, never," they agreed. And for a moment, I saw something flicker on their faces that I could feel on my own: a tiny, shaky smile.

         "A hundred and ten," I said quietly. "Cool."