Grey Street // H.S.

Chapter 14: The Significance of Driving

I remember the first day I drove a car. Not the powerwheels SUV toy that I had when I was a kid, but a real car with a real engine and actual rubber tires. I was ten and my legs could barely reach the pedals below me.

We were visiting my grandma Ellison in Illinois, this was one of the last trips we made there but I always remember it fondly. My grandpa Frank drove me out to his old family farm for the day. At first I wasn't sure what to do because I hadn't spent that much time with my grandpa before. Almost all I knew about him was that he fought in a war, I think it was Vietnam, that he loved to yell at my mom when she said something about my grandma, and he would spend hours watching people play poker on TV. He is essentially a quintessential old man. Frank had always been quiet but even with the minimal interaction I had with him I could tell he was a strong person. When he wasn't watching poker on TV he was in his shop making something out of wood or helping my grandma move something around in the house, his love for her was very obvious.

While we were driving to the farm I remember it being mostly silent between us. He had the radio playing in the background and it was tuned to a classic rock station as he drove with a serious face. I remember staring out the window for the majority of the ride, watching the scenery change from the suburbs of the city to huge green fields and large sprinklers with an occasional small farm house in the mix.

He asked me about school and friends but just like how I am now neither subject interested me much so I didn't have an answer to contribute to the conversation. When we arrived at the farm it was abandoned. I guess I hadn't realized that it would be empty and Frank told me that no one had lived there for years but his brothers and him couldn't bear to sell the house to anyone new so they kept up with it, fixing up anything that got worn with age. I guess his grandparents built the house and owned the land first so it had been in their family for more than a few decades.

We walked around for an hour or so and I swear I have never heard my grandpa talk that much. He told me about what it was like growing up there and how his brothers and him worked on the farm every day. He just talked and talked and I let him. I don't think he had been able to do that in years because of my mother and grandma taking up all the energy in the room whenever we got together.

Afterwards, we drove out to a field in his old pickup truck. I remember sitting in the middle of the field and it feeling like a sea of grass that seemed to go on forever. I remember he turned to me and with his stern voice he asked, "Elle, would you like to take a crack at it?" I didn't understand what he meant at first but when he nodded toward the steering wheel, I automatically knew exactly what he was asking.

Next thing I knew I was in the driver's seat with my hands gripping the wheel tightly. My grandpa calmly instructed me what to do and after nodding my head for about five minutes, taking it all in I pressed on the gas, lurching us forward. I remember turning my body immediately toward him, anticipating his face to turn red and fill anger like the way it does when he yells at my mom. Instead he had a huge smile on his face.

He started laughing to himself and I sat there shocked because it was the first time I'd seen him act like this. Encouraged by his good mood I pressed on the gas again and instead of lurching forward I sped through the grass creating a dust cloud behind us.

Almost every time I'm in the car I think of this moment. At the time I felt like driving was the most exhilarating thing I could have been doing but now driving seems so insignificant.

So now as I sit in Matt's driveway, waiting for Harry to walk out of the large front door this memory reappears in my head.

I've been sitting out here for about five minutes now. I told Harry last night when I dropped him off that I would be back a little before ten in the morning the next day so we could go to my mom's presentation. Now that I'm sitting here, not patiently at all, I'm afraid we're going to be late and make our arrival even more noticeable. I've already honked my horn once but there is still no sign of him. I should probably just get out of the car and walk to the front door but I'm already feeling too annoyed to put any effort in.