It was a perfectly good night for a cruise down the old highway, the air was pleasant and the breeze was delicate. It was a Sunday afternoon last spring and my grandparents came over for our weekly Sunday supper. Earlier that day my dad got our Beetle Bug running and ready for us to learn how to drive manual. Baylee and I had been practicing all day trying to master the art of driving stick. I guess you could say that we knew the basics but we had not perfected them yet.
Later in the afternoon when my grandparents came over my grandma insisted that she had to have a ride in the bug. She would not drop the idea but I guess I couldn’t blame her because it probably reminded her of when she was younger and teaching my mom how to drive stick when she was my age. The
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The bug roared, the lion had awakened. Grandma yelled “Whoa” and applauded my work. I looked over at her as we lurched forward and she was already death gripping the handle. I took it slow the rest of the way home for her sake.
As I turned onto the highway grandma Shirley started to tell a story about Michelle (my mom) and her first car, which happened to be a red Super Beetle Bug. I really wasn’t sure what the difference between a Super Beetle and a regular Beetle Bug was though. She continued on with the story, it was about how my mother had to drive hers back and forth from Mitchell to Creighton, Omaha NE, where she went to college. We laughed when she got to the part about how it would stall on her, but grandma assured us the she would eventually get there.
The sun was waving goodbye as it starting to set further down in the sky, when I drove back home. Grandma continued to tell me when to shift and I pretended like I was listening, even though I knew what I was doing, but I still smiled and nodded.
Grandma would say, “Uh-oh you better shift up, whoa! Crazy driver!”
I would just reply, “Okay grandma” and “Yep, I think I got it