Author’s Gab, Reader Talk.
A letter to you, the reader, so that you can finally figure out what I’m thinking.
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This Month: Expressway
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Dear Reader,
This month, rather than providing words of encouragement, I would like to share a story with you. It’s my own story, and one that I’ve been thinking about and meaning to share with you for some time. I’m not really sure why I have been thinking about this story, but, here it goes anyways. I hope you like it. 🙂
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“Expressway”, a personal true short story by Jessica McLean
The back of the student driver car lurched forward, seeming to nearly do a backflip into the red light on M-59; however, I had made it. Not only had I successfully stopped for a red light on a divided highway, it appeared that I had also given my driving instructor a whiplashed heart attack. It was a cloudy, gray day, and she had taken me out for a private lesson. Looked over at the car dealership past the intersection and I thought about turning right. If I did, I would be at my Opa and Oma’s house, and then maybe I could have peppermint tea and toast with honey this morning; yet, I was determined to show my instructor that, today, I could drive. I looked over at her for approval, but all I got from her expression was shock and a desire to hit the emergency brake, located on my instructor’s side of the car. She composed herself and then managed, “Jessica, next time anticipate the light, ok?”
As she explained, one more time, how to “anticipate” a red light, I indignantly waited for it to turn green. I was fifteen, I had been at this driver’s training thing all summer, and this was like one of the first things we learned. That time was a mess up, a mistake, a screw up. I felt like kicking myself, and then the light turned green.
Under my instructor’s direction, we stayed westbound on the divided highway of M-59. But, just when I felt like I was doing better, I realized where we were going. US-23, the north/southbound expressway was just ahead, and if I continued far enough going westbound on M-59, I would eventually run into it. Most people that live on my side of town usually don’t go much farther than that; they either merge onto the expressway or they get some food from the strip mall by the expressway, turn around, and then go back home. I felt a pit start to form in my stomach. I figured we weren’t getting food.
I asked if my hunch was right, “Are we going on the expressway today?”
“We are”, came the answer, and my instructor began telling me how to do it. I followed her directions, but I was sickly afraid. We were going on the expressway. No. I wasn’t ready for this. I had never done this before. Gulp….I was, most surely, going to die today. I just knew it.
Nevertheless, as we approached US-23, as I became more and more certain that my teacher was insane, as I stopped, more successfully, at the red light before the on-ramp, as I turned my blinker on, and as I prepared to turn right to embrace the expressway, I began to prepare my teenage self for death. Did I say goodbye to my mother this morning? Did the appropriate people know I loved them?
But, just as I was mentally willing my childhood deck of hockey cards to my little brother, the light turned green. I maneuvered the car onto the on-ramp and accelerated. And, just like that, with my adrenline pumping, my eyes darting from the ramp to the looming US-23 to my speedometer, I was off. Just as I got about halfway up the ramp, my instructor, suddenly paralyzed with fear, yelled at me, “Speed up or you’re going to get us killed!!!”
Oh. Right. Oops.
I hit the accelerator, getting us from about 30 miles per hour to about 60 miles per hour in a matter of seconds. The expressway arrives. A big van whooshes past me as I try to merge with my blinker on. Some car is behind me as I get in the lane. We stay there awhile before my instructor yells at me to change lanes and continue speeding up. I try to concentrate on looking over my shoulder and glancing in my rearview mirror. It briefly occurs to me that I’m going to die, but after a few seconds, I tell myself to “girl up” and keep going. Suddenly, my instructor tells me to get off at the next exit. I ease onto the exit ramp, slow down, make a right, pull into the nearby gas station, and we’re done.
My instructor says to wait while she gets gas and goes to the bathroom. Honestly, that’s just fine. I need a second to calm down anyways. I examine myself. Hands, feet, face, boobs, and butt are all still intact. My heart is still beating, just a bit rapidly. My hair is still combed, but perhaps a bit frazzled now. I breathe a sigh of relief. I did not die after all.
The day is still gray as I begin to process my experience. It’s awhile before I see my instructor coming out of the gas station again, so I have some time to think about what happened. Perhaps, I don’t need to will my hockey cards to Nathan after all. Besides, now that I was alive, I could continue to hold onto my Stevie Yzerman card, which is the best card in my deck. Once, Nick Kent, a boy my grade in elementary school who had a crush on me or something, tried everything to get me to trade it with him. I remember, I almost did, and that was quite a showdown.
I hear the car door slam as my teacher gets back into the car and fastens her seatbelt. Edgily, I ask, “Are we going back on the expressway?” I’m relieved when she says no.
We turn right out of the gas station, drive past Spicer’s Apple Orchard, and back towards M-59. We drive past my Opa and Oma’s house, and approach the intersection with the car dealership again. All the way, my teacher is talking to me about my expressway experience, giving me tips and pointers about how I did and what to do next time. I stop at the car dealership red light at M-59, glance over at my tutor, nodding appropriately. This time I don’t make the car do a backflip. When the light turns green, I drive straight ahead, across M-59 and towards the student driving center, where I think we will park. The corners of my mouth twitch up into a half-smile. I didn’t know when I would go onto the expressway again, but, for today, I had made it.
~The End~
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And that’s all for today, folks. I hope you’ve enjoyed my story for today. Keep writing!!
Sincerely, Your Author,
Jessica McLean
The Rose 