By Jeremiah Aldan
Even at six years old Danny knew his Uncle’s car didn’t belong on this rough dirt road cutting through eleven miles of Northern Arizona desert. Later, he’d learn it was a 1983 Toyota Celica Supra, but all he knew as a kid was that it was blue and the headlights popped up out of the hood when you turned them on, which made it the coolest car in the world.
They had the windows open, so between the engine’s rumble and the crunch of the tires slowly rolling over the dry ground, Danny had to yell to be heard.
“Shane, can I please drive?”
His Uncle raised an eyebrow. “Again, no.”
“But dad says since we live so far outside town now and there’s nobody else out here, he’ll teach me to drive!”
“Will teach. Future tense. You can’t even touch the pedals yet, bucko.”
Danny scrunched his face like he’d eaten sour candy. “I can too touch the paddles!” He’d tried it once, scooting all the way forward, his butt just on the edge of the seat.
“Driving’s not as easy as it looks.”
Danny grinned. “Maybe you’re just a bad driver.”
He started to laugh at his own joke, but Shane, still watching the road ahead, tensed up, a look of horror crossing his face. Danny whipped his head around, expecting to crash into a cow in the road, or hit a fencepost, or something.
But the road was empty.
The car jerked left, then right, before jerking left again. Danny flopped back and forth as the car continued to careen from one side of the road to the other.
“I’ve lost control!” Shane yelled, frantically spinning the wheel back and forth. “I’m a horrible driver!”
Like a bubble bursting, Danny realized Shane was just being silly, like usual. He threw up his hands, pleading. “Then let me drive!”
The car returned to the middle of the road, straight and true. Shane smiled at him. “Nope. Nice try, though.”
Danny dropped back into his seat. “Aw, man. It looks like so much fun.”
“Oh, sometimes these roads are a blast. Wouldn’t want to drive them every day, though. I still can’t understand why your dad dragged you and your mom all the way out here.”
“To get away from bad people.”
“Bad people? What bad people?”
Danny shrugged, fidgeting with the door handle. “I dunno. Sinners, I guess.”
Shane was quiet then, maneuvering around a huge hole in the road. When they were through, he brought the Celica to a gentle stop.
“Unbuckle your seatbelt. No, just do it.”
Danny did, and Shane grabbed him under the arms and lifted him up, over the gear lever and onto his lap, positioning Danny’s legs between his own knees and his hands on either side of the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
“I’ll shift gears and do the pedal work. You can steer, but if you wander too far, I’ll take over. Deal?”
“Deal!”
Shane put the car back into gear and they rolled forward. Danny couldn’t believe it! He was doing it! He was finally driving!
He glanced down at the pedals, stretching his foot out toward them experimentally. He was so close; he knew he could reach them. He scooted forward just a tiny bit.
“Hey.” Shane nudged the wheel to the left. “Stay in the center.”
“Okay.”
Danny scooted a little closer again, stretching out blindly as he watched the road above the dash. He could just feel something, right at the tip of his toes.
He stretched farther, then slipped off the seat, down to the floor, twisting the steering wheel as he went, his foot jamming on top of Shane’s shoe on the pedal, and the car leaped sharply right with a roar. He felt a shudder, and heard a loud pop, before Shane yanked the parking brake.
“Dammit!”
Shane’s hands grabbed Danny roughly under the arms and pulled him out from under the steering wheel, dropping him back into his own seat. Out the window, Danny saw that they’d left the road and rolled over a pile of boulders. They sat a minute, catching their breath.
“Sorry,” Danny offered weakly.
“Don’t tell your dad about this.”
Jeremiah Aldan caught the writing bug as a child, and has only looked back a few times. Stories have been his constant companion through the years since, his own as well as others’. He credits several authors and their work for saving his life and hopes one day to forward those lessons onto others. He lives in Denver with two cats who graciously share their home with him, his partner, and their dog.
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