Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: SHIFT (05/27/21)
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TITLE: Be Careful What You Wish For | Previous Challenge Entry
By Laura Manley
06/02/21 -
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“You can’t just slam on the brakes any time you want, Greta, especially in this kind of weather.”
The 1949 Nash Rambler sat in the middle of a school parking lot on a cold, frosty Saturday morning. Greta wanted to tear her hair out. ‘I don’t think this was such a good idea to have dad teach me to drive,’ she thought as she turned the key to get it out of the ignition. At sixteen, was she really ready for this?
Pulling her long auburn hair into a ponytail, and settling her stocking cap back on her head, Greta exited the car and walked carefully around to the passenger side of the car. “Guess you should take over, dad. I’ll never learn how to drive.”
“I’m sorry I yelled, sis. I guess I forgot that I’ve been driving since I was your age, and it just comes naturally to me. You’ll get the hang of it.” He crawled out of the passenger side, taking the keys from Greta’s shaking hand. He squeezed it as she released them from her palm.
Six months later, the day in the school parking lot was a mere memory for both. Greta had passed her driver’s test with flying colors and was driving whenever she could talk her dad or boyfriend, David, into using their cars.
One lazy summer afternoon while sitting on a blanket with a picnic lunch close by at a neighborhood park, Greta asked David about using his car to go to the mall the next day. Grabbing a handful of chips, in between crunches, she asked, “So do you think it would be alright, David? I would drive it over to your house as soon as we’re done and that’s the only place we’d go.” She knew David would say yes. He couldn’t say no to her and sure enough, by the end of the last of the potato salad, he had given in.
Greta dashed through the living room, excited for the event of the day. “I’ll see you later, mom. I’m going to pick up Linda and then we’re going to the mall,” Greta yelled as she flung her purse over her shoulder, nearly stumbling over the family cat.
Linda was ready to go and came flying out her front door, the screen door slamming behind her. “This is so cool, Greta. Let’s go!”
Greta pulled into the first convenient parking place at the mall.
They briskly walked for several hours, ate lunch, and were as exhausted as if they had taken a five-mile run. Greta turned to Linda. “We sure don’t have much to show for as long as we’ve been here,” Greta said as she pushed open the doors to exit the mall.
Greta started her boyfriend’s bright blue, beautifully painted well-kept car, and went to put the car into first gear only to find the gear shift in her hand. Linda started laughing hysterically.
“OH NO!” yelled Greta. “How on earth did that happen? What am I going to do?” Linda muffled her laughter behind her hands.
“I’ve got to call David. He’s going to be so mad. This is his baby. We need to find a phone booth NOW.” Linda followed Greta quietly like a chick follows its mother as they searched for a phone booth.
“David, we have a problem,” Greta explained as she twirled her hair around her index finger, a habit she had when she got nervous. Expecting the worst, Greta thought she was going to pass out for fear she had ruined her boyfriend’s car. As she reached for the phone booth handle for support, Greta heard the same kind of hysterical laughter at the other end of the phone that she had heard earlier from Linda.
“What’s so funny?” Greta was shocked at his unexpected reaction.
“I’m sorry, Greta, I forgot to tell you that that happened to me just the other day. But it’s only happened once, so I didn’t think it was a problem. I really am sorry.”
David showed up shortly with a friend. With gear shift still in hand, Greta, David, and Linda all had one good belly laugh as David screwed it back onto where it belonged.
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