Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.
Opening Up - Car Trouble (Rewrite)
Squeezing my eyes shut against the glare of
oncoming headlights, I dug my fingernails into the worn upholstery of
the station wagon and prayed. Grandma was going to kill us.
Please God, send somebody to rescue us.
"Wrong lane!" my twelve-year old brother shrieked from the front
passenger seat as horns blared.
An abrupt right swerve had the tires spinning. Was that black ice on the
road? What did I know? This was the first winter I'd ever experienced.
How I hated Canada at that moment. It was a vast, frigid place where
people spoke in weird accents, kids didn't wear uniforms and everyone
drove on the wrong side of the road. It had been my parents' bright idea
to move here six months ago. They said life in Trinidad was hard. But at
least Trinidad had sunshine and warm air. And Grandma could drive in
Trinidad.
"Press the brake!" my brother yelled.
But Grandma must have stepped on the gas pedal because the car continued
to move forward, earning another blast of disapproving horns. Grandma
stomped on the brake and my brother and I flopped like ragdolls against
our seat belts.
“There’s your mom!” Grandma exclaimed and I dared to open my eyes.
We pulled up in front of a crowded bus stop. Grandma wound down the
window and smiled at Mom, whose face was as white as the snow we'd seen
for the first time that past weekend.
"I didn't want you to take the bus," Grandma said. Her breath puffed out
white in the freezing night.
"Mammy," Mom said, her voice a mixture of fear, anger and undying love.
"What were you thinking?"
Mom's eighteen-year old coworker drove us home but it wasn't until he'd
left, with cab fare from Mom, that I let out an easy breath.
Was it just last night that we were laughing over Canadian customs
officers confiscating the curried duck Grandma had lovingly cooked and
brought for us from Trinidad? Was it just this afternoon that my brother
and I had come home from school to the aroma of Grandma's sweetbread
baking in the oven?
(c) Kristy Kassie, 2017
Opening Up
The start of a novel or longer story should encourage readers to read on. Would you read more of this story?
