A Little Bit Faster
I missed another birthday. And a funeral. And a near accident, but Dad had a good day. A Wal-Mart birthday cake with a big 8 & 3 candle. A funeral service for somebody’s brother from somewhere down on Brushy Creek. A neighbor drove him to the visitation because his night vision is poor. He came home talking about how maybe he’d drive next time so long as the roads weren’t wet. Scary, that I’d agree with that. Scary how bad the neighbor’s driving has to be for me to agree with that. Nearly ran them into a creek and took out a mailbox.
I used to stress over dad’s driving. I’m kind of nonchalant about it now. If I’m with him, I’ll be dead when I hit the bottom, and it’ll be quick. Nothing wrong with a quick death. The ladies who rode with dad before he retired begged him to let them drive and called his passenger seat, the suicide seat. Anyone who drives up a mountain with dad will find their brake foot pounding the floor boards. Many people swear he drives faster the worse the road and I’m pretty sure that’s true. He’s also blind in one eye and once got a speeding ticket for going over eighty in a fifty-five mile zone. That was three years ago. When he was eighty.
He didn’t tell me for months. I guess because he anticipated my reaction. When he finally did, I lost it, tried to put my foot down, and went on about how he could have been arrested and got frustrated when he just laughed. I said from now on the rule is drive no faster than your age. Now each year, he’ll grin and say, I can drive a little bit faster now.
Everyone says I favor my dad but I have no flair for driving, no skill like my dad. But I do like speed. I like to dig into a curve and drive faster. When I have a good engine and a straight road, I can really fly. I like that feeling. When I was young, I used to imagine I was driving in a race up those mountains, with their narrow roads, blind curves, and no shoulders. Like they do in Europe. My brother and I have talked about how perfect East Kentucky would be for a race like that. A mountain derby.
It’s funny how life breaks out in you. You can’t control it and there’s no point in trying. What you like and what you don’t. What you need to feel in order to really live.