They'd rattled loose from basketball season the day before, the sun was a circle of brilliant yellow set in a sky of brilliant blue, and they were itching to be out in it.
I looked up from the project I was working on outside when I heard the Jeep engine start. The boy behind the wheel looked at me; I looked at him. When I didn't shake my head, he put it in reverse and slowly backed out into the driveway. Then he put it in drive and went to the end of the driveway and back. I still didn't shake my head.
Before long, he was driving on the lawn around the house. Then he was driving around on the lawn beyond the driveway, then his brother hopped on the back bumper and took a joyride. Around and around. When it became apparent that the new objective was to take corners (on the lawn, mind you) sharp enough to sling the joy-riding brother off the back bumper (which the joy-riding brother thought was crazy-fun), I decided I'd better take them out to a back road somewhere.
Yes, this was a Sunday afternoon, and yes, we were on a lonely back road, but we were not, I soon found, out for a "Sunday drive." Oh, no. This was an eighth-grader-at-the-wheel, let's-see-what-this-4x4-can-do-on-a-muddy-back-road-and-how-fast-it-can-do-it sort of drive. It was loud, it was bouncy, and it was a tiny bit scary for the mama who was saying this is more of a 25 mph road, not a 45, and this is the only Jeep we have and we really need to keep it operable, but I think these words came out as yammering. When a splash of muddy water completely obliterated our view out the windshield, boy cheers erupted. People? There's a handle on the dashboard of the passenger's side of the Jeep for a reason.
End of the road. Time to switch drivers. The dashboard was suddenly higher (almost too high). We lowered the steering wheel; he stretched to see over top. A bit slower, a bit more careful. For a while. Then the gas was confused with the brake and, well, when our seats hit our seats, the back seat brother was yelling for the driving brother to do that again (and again). The mama said no. Then the honking started. THEN THE HONKING STARTED. In the middle of nowhere, hoooonking the Morse Code. Hilarious.
He took us all the way to the highway, pausing to honk echoes under the overpass of the interstate. I wonder what people thought.
As I pulled onto the two-lane and headed toward home, the ride seemed so smooth and peaceful. That is, until the radio was cranked and soon we are all headbanging to My House. We rolled down our driveway with layers of sun, layers of mud, layers of memories.
We wash the Jeep, sometimes. But then I wonder why.
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