My Piece of Freedom
“Alright Aubrey, I have this afternoon off of work, do you want to go get your license?” Those words, spoken so nonchalantly by my dad, were words I’d been waiting five months to hear. Ever since I’d turned sixteen, I had been dying to be out driving on my own, without my parents slamming the invisible brake next to me shrieking “Slow down! I said slow down!” My driving experience had been nothing like my friends, most of whom already had their licenses, and were out cruising all around town whenever they could afford the gas. But me, I sat at home, forced to entreat my parents for a ride whenever I needed to go somewhere. I wanted freedom; I wanted my license.
For me, driving had not been a fun experience. For one, I’d learned on a stick shift, and had spent the majority of my driving time stalling the car, restarting it, than stalling again, and also, I just seemed to be driving inept. Usually, I was good at pretty much anything I set my mind to, but sitting behind the wheel definitely didn’t come as second nature. After one or two near-death experiences on the highway, my dad decided I needed a loooooong practice period before he would even consider letting me on the road by my lonesome.
And so, my sixteenth birthday came and went, and I still had my lowly permit. Every chance I got I’d shove my parents out of the driver’s seat and take the wheel, knuckles clenched and face white. Slowly, the months crept by, and every time I even dared to bring up the idea of my license, my parents would either grimace, or say, “Not yet Aubrey, a little more time.” So when my dad opened his mouth and offered to take me to the DMV, I felt exhilarated yet absolutely terrified at the same time.
I couldn’t even drive to the DMV, my stomach just wouldn’t let me. In my head I had visions of instructors sitting next to me breathing down my neck, checking F by every box. As my dad guided the car through traffic, he instructed me on what I should expect based on what my older brother had been through. “Now Aubrey,” he said, clicking on the right hand turn signal, “They’ll have you do a three-point turn, just like we practiced, than the instructor will take you out for a drive. That’s all, nothing to it.” I nodded nervously, and bit my lip as we turned into the parking lot.
Thankfully, the lines were short, and in no time my name was called and I walked up to the desk. “Pull the car around to the front, park it and wait,” the bored man behind the counter droned, little knowing how important those words were to me. I grabbed the keys nervously, psyching myself up as I marched out the door. “Three-point turn Aubrey, three-point turn, it’ll be simple, nothing to it!” Over and over I muttered those words, as I walked up to the car and pulled the door. With a screech, the car alarm erupted suddenly, causing me to jump almost out of my skin. “Gee, thanks Dad.” I growled as I punched the off button and slid into the car. Like they told me to, I pulled the car around and parked. Everything was going perfect so far.
Clipboard in hand, the instructor, a short little man, scuttled up to the car window and leaned forward. “I’ll help you as soon as the man in front of you is done.” He said, smiling pleasantly. Oh good, I thought, I can watch this dude to see what he does. Dexterously, the guy pulled his car up to a white line, and to my horror, proceeded to parallel park. “Oh my gosh!” I mouthed, “What happened to the three-point?” I watched in dismay, as the man easily scooted his car into the tiny, cramped space, and than pulled out. Seeing my terrified look, my dad jogged over to my car. “Hey honey, you ready to do this?” he asked, an encouraging, tense smile plastered to his face. In answer, I glared at him. “Dad, do you realize you I’ve never parallel parked in my life?” Obviously, from the stunned silence, he hadn’t.
To be honest, I’m not sure how it had happened. We’d just forgotten about it. My older brother didn’t have to do parallel, and I just figured when I needed to learn, I’d learn. I hadn’t thought that now would be the time I needed to learn.
“You’re kidding…” Dad stared at me like a deer in the headlights. “Well…” He glanced at the course, than back at me, “Don’t scratch my car.” Those were definitely not the words I needed to hear. Just than, the instructor motioned me forward, and I rolled the car up to the white line. In my head, I thought, Ok, I suppose I should first reverse, than crank the wheel to the left… or is it right? Oh shoot. Finally, I couldn’t stall any longer, and slowly I backed the little Hyundai in. All of a sudden, it’s back fender seemed miles away from me, and I almost thought I’d *poofed* into a bus or a limo.
First try, I slid into the space clumsily, but couldn’t get my wheels between the yellow lines. Second attempt, I scared myself and only got about halfway into the space. As I pulled out to try the third and final time, the instructor motioned for me to roll down the window. “You’ve never parallel parked before have you?” He asked, a knowing look on his face. I gulped and shook my head, disgraced. He rolled his eyes and sighed, than pointed to one of the cones, “well, when your car gets about halfway to that cone, turn the wheel to the right, than crank left. Try it once.”
Yeah, I know now, even with instruction, it is impossible to parallel park perfectly on your first try.
On the way home, I stared at my permit angrily, “Next week I’m doing it again!” I declared, tossing the permit into my purse. My dad groaned, but didn’t say “no”, and that night we practiced parallel parking till I could whip in and out of the space with ease.
True to my word, I did not give up, and the next week I proudly returned triumphant. “Guess what Mom!” I shouted as I walked into the house, “I’m officially legal!” I ignored her pained groan, and danced around the house. Five months, one week and two tries later than what I was hoping for, I could say “Look out world, Aubrey can drive!!!”
