I don’t care about cars
How much they cost and how fast they drive
But
At 6, I fall asleep in my dad’s red Alpha Romeo
(Or sometimes pretend)
Dry heat on a cold night
Fogging up the windows
On our way home from somewhere
My dad carries me into the house
And tucks me into bed
At 16, my uncle calls us
All dressed up and nowhere to go
But it doesn’t matter
With the right mixtape recorded off our favorite radio station
Or a CD with pirated songs and titles smeared across the shiny disc
Or a playlist your crush put together for you after the fourth date
And you drive with just the beautiful light and the sky and the music
Trying to figure out if they chose the songs for some hidden message
And then sharing a pint of the expensive ice cream with cheap plastic spoons
After the inevitable breakup
At 18, I buy freedom
An ancient baby-blue Ford I baptized Schrotti (Scrappy)
The passenger side door doesn’t open
So my boyfriend has to climb
On hands and knees
Through the driver’s side
While I’m looking at his ass
I never get it fixed
One time, a metal railing screeches along Scrappy’s side
Because I stare too hard and too long at a sunset
Coming home late from school on a winter day
I think this sunset is the last thing I’ll see
I never tell anyone
I don’t die but Scrappy does
In rush hour traffic, in the middle of an intersection
A few weeks before the boyfriend goes to Argentina
At 21, some Dean or Dick or Danny at the tire place asks
Which one’s yours?
And I answer the blue one
And don’t understand the smirk
(Until I get the astronomical bill)
At 26, my favorite aunt drives the green beast across the country
To give to me
Because I can’t afford to buy a car big enough
To hold my most precious people
I have a husband, but no job or education
At 30, I have an education, a job, but no husband
I still have the green beast
I get $5 pizzas and balance the boxes on the dash
Passing pieces heaving with crispy pepperoni and dripping with grease
To the back
Blindly
Kids fighting over the first and last one
I’m grateful for every old ass Subaru with four-wheel drive
Getting me through a white-out blizzard
In desolate towns that never quite feel like home
And the old truck
Roaring and sputtering
Striped brown corduroy cushioned seats that smell like everyone’s grandpa
And sawdust and gas
Patiently holding the hanging baskets of flowers
About to die in the last storm of this bait-and-switch spring
And the only dog I ever liked going insane on the way to her favorite park
And the six kids piled in the back
Heading toward the first ice cream cone on the last day of school
I’m grateful for every middle console I’ve held hands across
My person looking at the endless road in the early morning light
Pressing the back of my hand against his lips
Humming a song
I’m grateful for hard conversations in dark cars and darker parking lots
The side-by-side seats allowing tears to roll off teenage cheeks
Don’t look at me, mom
And the electric blue Chevy
My oldest daughter bought with her own money
Saved up from hours and hours and years and years
Working at the pizza place
Electric blue takes us on a girls' trip
To a cabin by a lake
I look at the former boss of the pizza slice distribution
Red curls straightened
Going 7 miles over the speed limit
Three sisters crammed in the backseat
Singing loudly
Eating road trip snacks out of gas station bags
I don’t care about cars
But I care about pulling your favorite hoodie around your face
Leaning your hot head against the cool glass of the window,
Gaze calm, trees blurring, thoughts drifting
Slipping gently into sleepy twilight
Your own makeshift cocoon
Would it surprise you to know that I had an ancient baby blue ford and that we pretended the passenger side window wouldn't go down so we could watch people crawl in and out? Not a boyfriend's ass, but still fun!
Evocative piece, took me back to all the cars I've owned and loved. Not for the cars, but for the people who rode in them with me and the places they took me.
Thanks for this one!