STORIES
No new stories
COMMENTS last 48 hrs
No new comments
LINKS last 2 wks
No recent new links
|
|
|
| Author: |
Alan May |
| Dated: |
Saturday, June 18 2005 @ 06:00 AM EDT |
| Viewed: |
2414 times |
|
“Ok, grab that big floor lever on your left and slowly move it forward, now the left peddle, that’s right, all the way to the floor. So long as the pedal is depressed you’ll be in first gear.”
The car crawled off up the road. Grandma Halvarson shook her head. When her husband Edward had brought that thing home she’d really wondered why, and hadn’t hidden the fact. This Model T was an idiotic idea. They’d done fine with only horses for all these years, although, the entertainment value of the thing was worth its weight in gold. That Henry Ford character certainly was playing a cruel trick on her husband. With the horses all you had to do was harness ‘em, hitch ‘em, and away you go. Each horse had its own character, its own personality. With this Tin Lizzy, as her husband was calling it, there were two levers on the column, and one more long one standing up beside you, so that took care of your hands quite nicely. Not to be left out, your feet were kept more than busy dancing around on the three floor pedals. She knew now why there were two seats in the front of this thing. It wasn’t so you could make pleasant conversation with your passenger. No, you’d be far too busy for that. Likely enough they’d need to steer this silly motor car so you’d be free to play with all those pedals and levers.The only character this thing had was sitting right up there in the front seat.
Gran, as she was known around the community, watched a moment more before starting across the yard to feed the chickens. One good thing, at least the old fart had chose to practice his driving out there on the road in front of the farm. For this she was thankful. Her husband was a bloody menace when he attempted to drive it in the yard. Two days before, she had watched as Edward carefully adjusted the advance lever. Smiling at his wife, he then strolled all around his tin carriage before cranking the engine for all he was worth. Well it appeared he hadn’t quite mastered starting his new car quite yet. The engine sputtered then kicked back. In a blur the hand crank spun free, narrowly missing his nose as Edward scrambled backwards finally stumbling and falling into the long grass. There he flailed about like a tortoise on its back. Finally regaining his composure, he sat up and dumbly looked around. Edward had noticed Gran watching, he sported a wide grin, tilting his head slightly to one side and told her, “isn’t this thing just the greatest.” Readjusting the advance, the excited farmer tried again. It fired this time, so he climbed up into the seat and promptly backed right through into the corral, sending posts and splinters in all directions. Gran had sent word with a neighbor that it might be best that Frank stop around to supervise these first attempts before the old bugger hurt himself.
The engine purred steadily as the car rolled along the dirt road. Frank Robinson, the small town’s blacksmith, had bravely agreed to tutor Edward until he’d mastered driving this new machine. Frank had never driven anything but a small tractor before the day this car was picked up shiny and new at the heavy machinery dealership in Silverton. Knowing Edward as he did, Frank felt it best that someone should sit next to the old timer whenever he left the yard. He hadn’t needed a whole lot of urging from Gran Halvarson either.
There’d always been something about Edward and machines that just didn’t mesh that well. The prairie that surrounded his farm wasn’t isolated enough to allow solo operation. Besides Frank couldn’t afford the three hundred and sixty dollars needed to buy one of his own. Given that this was the first car in the community to be purchased, it was the only opportunity there was to ride in one, and Edward was more than happy to allow him to ride along
Frank had really taken to driving the thing. When it had come time to pick it up, Edward had asked that he drive it the sixty miles out from the dealership. After about fifteen minutes of instruction and practice the shiny red Model T had eased out into the street. So carefully the throttle lever was advanced, and so slowly the car rolled off down the street. With a thriving dealership in town cars were not a new thing here. Even so most people stopped to look as they motored on past. Frank hadn’t bothered to try second gear until well free of the clutter that made up this sprawling town. Oddly it had never seemed all that congested before. Today, however, the streets were narrower, and the wagons and cars that lined the street seemed remarkably close. Surprisingly, none of those horses spooked as they passed. A couple fidgeted a little or switched their tails. There seemed to be more reaction from the people that ambled the sidewalks. All stopped to look as they passed and nearly every one sported a broad smile. Edward greeted them all as if he knew each one personally, tipping his hat or nodding and waving. The fact that he rarely left the familiar surroundings of his own small town was painfully obvious to all but him.
With the road leading west out of town came the promise of second gear. Frank stopped for a moment and moved the hand lever rearward setting the brake.
“ Well Edward would you like to have a go at driving?” Frank asked.
“ No, think I’ll just watch for a bit. Maybe try it out when we get home.”
Depressing the pedal Frank gently moved the throttle and they were underway once again. In only seconds the car had topped out in first gear. A slight lurch accompanied the release of the left pedal, and with a little hop they jumped to over fifteen miles per hour. Two, maybe three hours at the most and they’d be home.
***
Gran puttered around the yard. The garden was up nicely, although the spuds seemed a bit late. Her favorite tabby snaked its way through the rows, stopping now and then to inspect the ground for bugs to chase. It never was long after new footprints began to form in the soft tilled earth that the affectionate little barn cat began its slow trek across the yard to wander between the rows. Gran pulled at a few weeds then looked off up the road for her husband. It mattered not that Frank was with the old goat, he’d undoubtedly run into some sort of calamity in the short trip to town. Lucky that car was only capable of fifteen or twenty miles per hour. That poor blacksmith would certainly be scared near to death. It was likely that if he’d seen the carnage left in Edward’s path while practicing these last few days, he’d have not agreed to take him out on the road. Well he’d cooked his own goose now that was for sure. Edward had a particular talent for conjuring up the impossible; absolutely no harrowing tale upon their return would surprise her.
Edward loved his new car but was having a bit of trouble with the change up from the horse drawn transports he’d spent his lifetime piloting. With his wagon he really had little to do. The horses walked the road with virtually no guidance, a trip that they had taken countless times. Once out on the road there was nothing to do but enjoy the day, and talk with whoever had decided to ride along. This relaxed tone was where Edward soon drifted to once out on the road in his new car. Despite the constant reminders from Frank to pay attention and watch the road he just couldn’t seem to concentrate on driving for any length of time.
“ Edward this isn’t a team of horses. It must be constantly monitored. It takes endless small corrections to keep the thing going straight down the road.”
“ Yes, Frank, concentration, I know,” he told the younger man as they bounced through a small hole in the road. Edward turned to look at his helpful passenger just as the car's right side dropped into a series of ruts near the shoulder. The steering wheel pulled just hard enough to surprise Edward, causing him to over correct. The front end climbed up out of the long depression and sped across the road. In a panic, Edward pushed the throttle lever all the way ahead. The nose dropped away as they tipped into the deep ditch. The one thing that Edward did remember was when in trouble push all the pedals at once, so this he promptly did. With the engine whirring at full speed the car sat perched on the shoulder. The front was tipped now sufficiently that the car’s driver literally stood upon those peddles, with white knuckles he gripped the steering wheel. Edward said not one word. Frank climbed out and took over from the disillusioned old man. The ditch, although sharply angled coming off the road, sloped gently out into a hay field. Once the engine was running at an idle, Frank considered their options. It was unlikely that the car would back up onto the road. He checked the clearance under the car then, without any explanation to the car’s owner, depressed the pedal and the car crawled down the steep bank. For just a moment the car seemed to come to almost a perfect vertical. The tail end slid a bit, skating out to the side only briefly, before Frank hit the throttle and they raced into the bottom of the ditch. As he slowed to climb out the other side Edward disappeared from the passenger side. Frank slid to a stop on the wet grass then swiveled around to see what had become of his friend. Edward was racing up the ditch. Upon reaching the top, he turned round looking wide-eyed at the young blacksmith. Frank cracked a slight smile before driving on up the field then back onto the road. After such an unsettling ride it was all he could do to get this confused and frightened old man back into the car.
The incredible enthusiasm that Edward Halvarson had shown when he’d first picked up this shining, brilliantly engineered automobile had been washed away in just a few seconds. Frank was saddened by the change he saw in the old sod-buster. There’d been a contagious excitement about him whenever he’d talked of this new car. It had gone on undaunted through the months before this important purchase, and built to feverish levels once they’d picked it up and delivered it to the farm. Until moments ago, he’d been virtually bursting at the seams over his marvelous machine. Now the man sat slumped in the passenger seat, refusing to drive. He looked completely defeated.
Gran sat on the porch waiting for her husband. They should have been back hours ago. Frank was a character, but he was usually prompt. He’d have had to show off this modern mechanized marvel a bit, but how long should that take, really. Maybe this new fangled contraption of his broke down. Possible, yes that was likely it.
The gentle motion brought out those loose joints in the dried out rocking chair. Laying her knitting in her lap she looked one last time up the road. Almost out of sight a team of horses ambled along the road. Strangely, they pulled no wagon. One of the neighbors with a new team most likely. The sun dipped low in the sky, and cast a warm orange light across the prairie. There was the promise of a beautiful sunset so Gran sat and gazed out upon the land. This was one of her favorite times, a good day's work behind her, and the promise of even better things come tomorrow. They’d built this farm from scratch, every building, every fence. This was something she was proud of and truly thankful for. It was all theirs, over three hundred acres.
As Gran rose to go into the house the team turned down her lane. She looked more closely now; surprisingly, leading those heavy horses was her husband. She watched as he walked slowly to the corral and turned the big horses loose. Edward looked a long while at the newly patched rails, then at the horses that now grazed on the tender spring grasses. Finally he turned and walked slowly to the house saying not one word as he climbed the steps.
“ So, where is it?” Gran asked.
Edward stopped and looked down the road a moment before answering,
“ It’s a frightful thing, this motor car. I believe it to be a machine fit for a younger man.”
“ So what’s with the team?”
“ Traded Frank, he’s really taken with that car you know, operates it like a pro. Me? Well the thing gives me a fright. Don’t suppose the ticker really needs that at my age.”
With that he turned and sulked off into the house. Gran, now alone on the porch, could afford a slight smile. Only when that smile was permanently lost did she follow him inside.
|
|
|
|
|
This is a lovely story about getting old and accepting it. The setting is a prairie farm, and a first ride in a new car to and from a small town. One almost feels the dust in the eyes and hears the clucking of chickens.
The three old timers are beautifully described. I especially liked Gran, her train of thoughts, and the grace and wisdom with which she managed to grow old. I wish I could know more about these characters: how did they build the farm from scratch, what about their children, or how will they end. A read like this one makes me feel like the world is in good order. Bela Hermanek