37 Things I Love (in no particular order) by Magoon Kekla

Author:Magoon, Kekla [Magoon, Kekla]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-05-22T05:00:00+00:00

17

Driving

For once, for a little while, everything’s up to me.

I LEAN FORWARD in the chair and rest my cheek on the fresh sheets near Dad’s shoulder. They’ve washed him up, too; I can smell the institutional soap. Everything is clean and familiar, quiet. The machines’ steady hum settles over us, Dad speaking to me. I struggle to listen through it, to hear his real voice in my mind, but it doesn’t come so often anymore.

I close my eyes. The nurses have dimmed the fluorescent lights for me, and I feel myself drifting. Drifting to a place where I can see him, hear him, know him again.

“Don’t tell your mother,” Dad says, helping me into the driver’s side of the golf cart.

I laugh. I’m nearly thirteen, and already I don’t tell Mom any more than I have to. “I won’t. This is so cool.”

Dad points. “Okay, that’s the gas. That’s the brake. Make friends with the brake.”

I plant both feet on it.

“Good.” Dad walks around and hops in the passenger side, where I was sitting a moment ago. My hands grip the thin steering wheel. Yes! I’ve wanted all my life to drive something, but I’ve never done it before. Mom won’t even take me to the go-carts.

Dad shifts the gear stick from P to D and says, “Now release it slowly.”

I move my feet. The cart lurches forward an inch. I slam my feet back down. Dad chuckles. “It’s okay. Let go and give it a little gas.”

I gun it. We fly several yards before I panic and brake again. Stop, start. Stop, start. Dad talks me through it, and I learn to guide the wheel. He has one hand on my shoulder, the other on the dash. The green lawn stretches wide in front of us, and I drive in big slow circles. I get the hang of it, and soon we’re swooping, soaring round and round at top speed, which isn’t really very fast, but feels it.

Dad grins. “See? You’re a natural.”

I’m concentrating hard on my hands and feet, but I manage to quip, “Hello, I’ve been telling you that for years.” The world is at my fingertips, Dad is at my side, and it feels like nothing could ever go wrong.

* * *

“ELLIS.”

Mom’s hand on my shoulder shakes me awake. She’s sitting on the edge of Dad’s bed, feet close to mine, face leaning in.

My head is fuzzed from awkward sleep. It’s strange, seeing Mom here. In my special place, my alone-with-Dad place.

“What are you doing here?” I shrug out from under her touch, and she pulls away like I’ve stung her. Her other hand is resting on Dad’s wrist, almost like she’s feeling his pulse. I know it’s beating strong.

“We have an appointment to keep,” Mom says.

“I told you I’m not going.”

“This is important to me.”

I raise my voice. “Not. Going.”

Mom takes a deep breath. “I hear you saying that you would prefer not to go to the doctor today.”

“Yeah, I’ve only said it a hundred times.

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