“All good to go?”
“Yeah… actually, wait. I forgot to grab something from the house.”
“What’d you forget?”
“The kindle.” I rushed inside, happy that I didn’t put on my seatbelt. Upstairs, on my bedside table, I pick up my treasure. Only 12 percent… Mistake.
“Ok, all good to go?”
“Yeah. You need me to setup the GPS?”
“No, I got it. Just give me… one second…”
“Are we gonna get more snacks?”
“From where? Walmart? We could, yeah.”
“Never mind.”
“What? It’ll be in and out.”
“We’ll get it from somewhere else.”
After more idle chatter, the car leaves the driveway, purring as the gearbox shifts into reverse. The sun peeking above the horizon in its neon tint makes the autumn leaves look more temporary than usual. I look at the front yard as we slowly accelerate. Unable to tell each blade of grass from one another, let alone the residual rain from last night, the dark green coalesces into a vibrant view, before disappearing from my field of vision.
“Did I ever tell you how fun it is to drive manual?”
“You drove a manual? When?”
“My uncle-“
“It’s always your goddamn uncle Tom-“
“Hey, he’s a nice guy!”
“He can be a nice guy. I can still… I actually like Tom. But you really don’t have any stories other than something about Tom?”
“Uncle Tom was the one who taught me how to drive a manual. After I got my license, one day he pulled up in a… what was it, a 90 something something. My dad asked him where he got it, uncle Tom responded something like ‘a friend of mine needed me to drop off his car, so I took it out for a spin and he’s okay with it.’ Or something like that. So, he dragged me along to a massive parking lot 10 minutes away in the middle of nowhere, right? And he’s like, you wanna try?”
“He gave you someone else’s car?”
“Yeah, crazy guy. But, first, I just asked him to show me everything. So, he taught me about the clutch, good gear shifting, all the things. Then, he said ‘watch this’ and sent us flying to the other side of the lot. I kinda knew I had to try it, but I was really scared. It was also someone else’s car, right?”
“Ok.”
“So after a bunch of convincing, he essentially forced me into the driver seat and told me exactly what to do. I stalled often. But, that first time I got the car into high first, and he told me to get it into second, and I did, and I pressed that gas, that was the moment. That was when I knew.”
“So, with all your wisdom, you still didn’t get a manual?”
“Well, that was about… I wanna say 8 years ago… and let’s be real, automatic is plentiful. Like dandelions and grass in an unkempt field.”
“Did you ever drive one again?”
“Nope.”
“Ahhh… It’s okay, I’ll get you one for your birthday.”
“Yeah? Please do. Actually, spend all your savings on my gift, and then I’ll divorce you and run away with the car, my true love.”
“Haha. Very funny. Already planning on divorcing me after the breadwinner loses their bread?”
“Of course! I’m a gold digger. S class. It’s the only reason I’d ever fall for you.”
“Oh, aren’t you so very poetic.” He makes more than me.
A few hours in, we’re driving through the forest. The sun is further up, but its light gets scattered by the leaves. Some trees tower overhead, so wide that even if both of us were to hug the trunk, we wouldn’t make half the circumference, let alone touch hands. Occasionally, a huge rock juts out from the ground. As if the land was forced to grow around them. Actually, that’s exactly how it happens.
“Can we take a break? At one of the huge rocks. I want to climb one.”
“In your getup?”
“Anything wrong with it?”
“You might get hurt if you fall.”
“But you’re there to make sure that doesn’t happen, right?”
“Hah. I guess so.”
We park up on the side of the road. Barely any cars pass through the shaded woodlands, or at least that’s what I like to call this part of Oregon. Thankfully, I’m wearing my worn-out sneakers, so no need to worry about footing. The car beeps, and we trek towards a rock.
“Want me to drive for the next little bit?”
“I got it. Ummm… Yeah, I got it. I’ll let you know when to switch.”
We walked a little further, taking in the autumn air. A little warmer than the chilly morning. The few points of contact the sun makes with my skin, I feel warmth. The wind blocked by the trees; I feel a gentle breeze. The sanctity of air. The smell of moist wood. The sound of the drying leaves underfoot, as I slowly crunch away towards my destination. I look to my left. My idiot fiancé hopping every once in a while, and making weird sized steps, all while looking intensely at the ground, plotting every move. I smile at him. He doesn’t look at me. He looks like a kid again. How much I wish I could see his smile from back then.