Friday
It was almost the end of our break, and I haven't gone out to buy some clothes. My dad was finally happy driving his "new" truck into town for work once more. It was something more reliable now, even though this truck only had 168,000 miles on it. I got my laundry out of the house, carefully navigating down the stairs as I carried the basket in front of me, to my truck.
We piled our laundry into the tiny back seat of my truck, since my mom wanted to drive it.
"I wish your father was a little more considerate with his purchases sometimes. But we know how he likes things a little bit cheap." My mom says, putting the driver seat back in its position.
"But it's okay. He hates car payments, and besides, I'm a little bit surprised he actually built this house himself."
"He did a fine job with it." My mom reached up and ruffled my hair, as best she could, before going back in the house. I got the keys, and started the ol' Chevy 5.7L/350 V8, just to hear how it sounded, and to get it ready. This is the first time it has ever been taken out and used since the day I bought it. Since my mom probably didn't anything else in terms of helping, I popped the hood, and just stood there, marveling at the engine. It didn't shake, almost no vibrations were present, and just pretty much "purred like a kitten", like they say.
Since I was now taller, I leaned over the front of the truck even more. Despite getting some bit of dust, I knew it had been worked on at some point, seeing how clean it was.
"Ready?" my mom asked.
"Yeah." I say, and closed the hood down. We got in, and my mom had never drove these things before. It was very different than being in her Toyota. She has never drove dad's truck before either, and she's not any better driving a stick shift too.
"How do I-oh, ok. Right here." She pulled down the column lever too quickly, then slamming it back to the "P", before adjusting to the "R" slowly, and carefully backed the truck, before just stopping.
"I'll let you drive. Since you know the town anyway, and where the laundry is. And your father's been teaching you really good driving in town." My mom got out, and I quickly slid to the driver's seat, since she didn't park it, and it began to roll back a little. I put it in "Park", so my mom could get in, grabbing the passenger side entrance handle, and set down in the seat. I belted myself, and going by tactile feeling, I put my truck in "Drive" without even looking down at the dash, and we left the house.
"How many miles does this have on there? It's so clean for an old vehicle." I quickly looked down at the miles, since she hates seeing me take my eyes off the road.
"It has around 205,450 miles." I tell her, averting my eyes back on the road as quickly as I looked down. She took a look for herself.
"It's a 98, is it? It's almost 20 years old. I thought these trucks went off the road a long time ago."
"Yeah, I thought so too. There's this old Ford and Chevy truck back at the dealer."
"Your father really wanted one to drive everyday. I can't believe how smooth this drives." She looks around some more, and points at the lever next to my leg.
"What's that, there?" She was curious.
"Please, mom. I'm trying to drive. You know how much you don't like me to take my eyes off the road."
"I'm just wondering what that thing does." I quickly gaze at the lever... I forget they never had a four-wheel drive vehicle before, and this is their first. When it snows pretty good here, my dad stays at a motel below, to wait it out. He's never bought a 4x4 before, either, and says it's never worth it.
"It's a 4x4 shift."
"Okay." was all she said, and returned back to looking at the road. "At least it's nice this truck has two airbags." Compared to Elias' Yukon, or even Ryo's Suburban, this was a bit hard for my mom to look over the dash, since this one was a bit taller than those two. Especially the passenger side. Or my dad's Ford, or even the Chevy that we just replaced.
I think, out of all those, my dad's 2008 Ford had the nicer interior, even though it's pretty utilitarian, has a stick shift, rubber flooring instead of carpet, driver's seat that saw a lot of use, and it's missing both its mirror on the top of the windshield, and the driver handle. And there's no radio in it, but he was content with it, anyway.
Even though pieces of the center dash were broken and wires had been cut...
And the passenger door panel felt loose, and when I closed it, it made this ugly rattling noise somewhere in the bottom of the door...
My dad wanted Rae to look at it sometime...
I think he overpaid for the truck. Even my mom agreed.
I also seemed to think he got cheated for the mileage... Even though it ran and drove perfect, like my truck.
My second favorite interior is Rae's '96 diesel Ram...
Despite never cleaning inside, somehow Rae's dash escaped the horror stories of the dreaded "cracked dash" stories and pictures on the Internet, and it was still in an immaculate shape for its age.
My mom would freak out if she saw the inside of Rae's truck, since it doesn't have a passenger airbag like my truck does, even though it's on Rae's side. Which is why she tries to talk Dad from buying the older stuff until I was 18.
Rae's parents were lucky; they never own anything newer than 2001. Which is why Rae and Dylan are the local mechanics there, even though Rae works on the newer stuff, too.
The only "new" car we have is mom's 2015 Corolla. It's used, has over 160,000 miles, and my dad bought it for really cheap since it was involved in a rear collision. The trunk lid doesn't close because the repairs were done poorly, so my dad just got a tie-down strap to lash it down. And its transmission shifts pretty hard, despite having only a 4 speed auto. It stays near our home because it's slow going up the hill, and a lot of mechanics, Rae even, have said the transmission is going out.
We finally made it to the laundry place, and it was completely packed, as I tried to look for a place to park. We finally found a spot, and Mom took out her laundry, and I took out mines, and placed them in separate carts, before going inside. Luckily, one machine opened up, and as quickly I loaded my stuff into the machine, and put in $1.25 in quarters. Since it's still spring break, it takes awhile to do laundry, and the kids are on break. Their parents have packed the place than the typical school day. I'm one of few kids here who can actually do laundry without help or supervision, and I did just that.
There are a few machines that takes cards, and a couple for phone payments, but for the time being they are only relegated to the big 50 pounders, and some of the newer 'DEXTER' stack dryers (most of the washing machines are called 'Speed Queen'). I waited for the light to come on for putting in the soap, and when it did came on, I put in the soap, and give my mom the soap container. I couldn't find a place to sit, since the place was packed, full of noisy little kids running around, so I wandered outside, to listen to the traffic noise, and to see the city scenery, which is tree-lined, and we're in an upscaled part of town. A 7-Eleven is next to us, that's part of the laundromat... I saw a couple of people that were gathered around my truck. They saw me, and one of the people bravely walked up to me, as he nervously swallowed.
"You the owner of the truck there?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"1998, I assume."
"It is." I say, looking at my truck, and back at the guy.
"You selling it anytime soon?" he asked, but I'm not selling. It's staying in the family.
"No. Not selling."
"Ok. That's too bad. I loved these body style of trucks. It's good to see a kid like you keeping these things going." I could tell they were slightly disappointed that I wasn't selling. When Tristan was talking with Dylan the other day they were having some plans they wanted to do with my truck, and by 'they' I meant Rae and Dylan. Lift kits, big tires, lights, bigger engine swap, the stuff "cool kids" have. But then again Rae didn't want any of those things on his truck. He likes to have it "bone stock", the way I like to keep mine as well.
There were two other trucks like mines at the laundromat parking lot, and I wondered why they were interested in mines. One looks like what my dad used to drive years ago...
That body style is pretty rare these days. And there's this, and I'm sort of shocked to see it like this, and the city's pretty strict when it comes to cars looking like so...
I just hope they're passersby's, doing their laundry before leaving...
We were finally done with laundry, and we headed over to the mall. There were even more people here, as the parking lot was almost full, kind of like "Black Friday" sales, but on a spring break. I was finally happy I was getting clothes, as I found myself now constantly tugging at the bottom of my old shirts. My hair was getting a bit long, so I got it cut, just a little bit, so that I maintained my thick, but still shaggy, 'skater boy' hair.
It was an uneventful trip to the mall, except for buying new clothes, I didn't really see anyone I recognized from school, except Tristan, who was skipping along with his parents, with his heavy bags of clothes, and a tiny designer bag with a name I didn't recognize. Overall, the place was packed, and noisy, especially the food court.
Did I say "uneventful?" It was now even more different than that night back at the Home Depot, as I got even more stares and awes from both the store employees, and the kids, and they're mostly all from boys. One of the local skate shop owners even wanted to give me a job right then and there, since I looked the part of 'skater boy,' and they were in need of another "attractive, hot teen boy," in their words, not mine. They were willing to train me, which made sense since I know nothing of skateboarding, or their parts.
I was even asked for my number from a couple of random teen boys who I don't recognize. Mom says I should be "flattered."
I think I am being stalked once more...
****************************************
Tristan came over, beaming. I could tell he was waiting for the day to come.
"Ready?" he simply asked.
"Sure." I grabbed my truck keys, and turned it on. It was already warm since we came back an hour earlier. We drove behind my house, in a wooded area. Luckily for us, the gate is completely hidden from view, as I unlocked the chain, got back in and put my truck in 4WD, since it was a bit muddy back here. The 4x4 lever was a little bit harder to shift into, but I got it in. Even though my dad and I have driven that other Chevy back here, those were when the days were dry, unlike today.
Tristan was clearly enjoying himself in the passenger seat as we go down the tiny trail my dad and I use to gather wood for winter. He was giddy as we follow the similar road to a little meadow, and we have our private, "little" waterfall, and it overlooks the portion of the school.
We parked my truck, next to a small pile of woods my dad and I had made last winter. Tristan twirled as he closed the door, onto the wet grass. We did all the things like those two guys did in the movie, until we got close to the waterfall. He hugged me as tight as he can, his hard little body hurts as he hugged me, and we got a little bit sprayed on as we stood close to the waterfall.
I have no idea where this river goes to, but I do know the mighty, but lonely Colorado River also cuts through our mysterious, mountainous state too, so I guess this river goes there.
And, if you can believe it, 95% of our state is almost a state or national park, and we're living in one, since everything had been 'grandfathered' in from a mining community...
"Look, there's our school." Tristan points to a little clearing of the forest, to a white roof, and portions of the windows. And to our right, we could see part of Rae's house, the roof, and the little highway, as a single car drove by.
"You are so lucky you live close to this treasure. It's like living in that movie." Tristan says, still holding onto my waist. Soon, he held my face, pulled in, and gave a passionate kiss on my lips as we stood in front of the waterfall....