them fifteen feet before the stop sign. At least this time, they only leaned forward a little when she applied the brakes.
“This just takes practice, Marce,” Macy said. “Just move up a little more so we can turn on the main road.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Marcy shouted. “You try to do this for the first time with wild dogs trying to get you. I just saved your life, Mace, so you should be grateful instead of giving me a hard time about it.”
“I was not giving you a hard time, Marcy. I’m just trying to help!” Macy yelled back.
Approaching a stop sign, Marcy removed her foot from the gas pedal and stomped the brake again. They both flew forward sharply and then back again. “Marcy! Not so hard.”
“Sorry!” yelled Marcy, clearly frustrated about this driving thing.
With Marcy’s foot easing off the brake pedal, the Grand Am glided slowly forward. This time, Marcy employed her newly learned technique of softly applying pressure to the brake. Both girls leaned forward, turning their blonde curls left and then right in unison, checking for oncoming cars. They’d seen their parents do this many times so they imitated the act. Since no cars were out and about, Marcy turned the wheel, not paying attention to the lines on the road. Her driving was simply an effort to stay on the road, because being in the middle just seemed like a good idea. The closer they got into town, the fewer cars they had to dodge on the street anyway. If one did come the other way, she figured she would pull over then.
Macy checked behind. No more dogs followed them. Turning back to face front, Macy knew there had been a few straight miles ahead of them before they got to the highway turnoff. She began to look around the suburban town. Up ahead, the first stop light intersection came into view and there were cars stopped in one lane, even though the light had turned green.
Marcy slowed down as the lane divided, one for going straight, the other for turning. She came to a stop trying to assess the situation. They waited behind the gray SUV in front of them at the green light. They had rehearsed this scenario many times in the past and both girls thought the guy should have started moving by now, but he did not.
“Honk the horn,” Macy suggested as the idea came to her.
Marcy studied the steering wheel, looking for the button to press. She finally noticed the horn icon and pressed it, allowing the intrusive sound to disturb the afternoon silence all around them. Birds flew up in haste along the street side where they were searching for French fries, long gone by now.
Once the sound had dissipated onto the late afternoon horizon, Macy put the drive stick back into R. Marcy then depressed the gas pedal, rolling backwards several car lengths. After applying gentle pressure to the brakes again, to keep herself and her sister from flopping around like ragdolls, Marcy came to a complete stop. Macy moved the drive stick to D again and Marcy rotated the steering wheel left and pressed the gas pedal a little to pass the parked car.
Slowing as they approached, Macy could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Though the girls could not see the face, they both knew what had happened and now the reality settled on them. This was not just their home, their neighborhood, their town. It was all of that.
“I hope Dad’s okay,” Macy said, never having thought of the possibility that he too could have become a victim of the virus as well.
Driving through the intersection that led to the highway entrance ramp, the girls noticed several cars in the way. As Marcy snaked the car through, its bright red paint scraped along a gunmetal gray Suburban, the horrible screeching sound continued as the car forced itself through the space between it and the guardrail.
Marcy continued to wind her way, having gotten the hang of the driving thing by now, she pulled between parked cars in every direction. Macy sat high in her seat to help
“This just takes practice, Marce,” Macy said. “Just move up a little more so we can turn on the main road.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Marcy shouted. “You try to do this for the first time with wild dogs trying to get you. I just saved your life, Mace, so you should be grateful instead of giving me a hard time about it.”
“I was not giving you a hard time, Marcy. I’m just trying to help!” Macy yelled back.
Approaching a stop sign, Marcy removed her foot from the gas pedal and stomped the brake again. They both flew forward sharply and then back again. “Marcy! Not so hard.”
“Sorry!” yelled Marcy, clearly frustrated about this driving thing.
With Marcy’s foot easing off the brake pedal, the Grand Am glided slowly forward. This time, Marcy employed her newly learned technique of softly applying pressure to the brake. Both girls leaned forward, turning their blonde curls left and then right in unison, checking for oncoming cars. They’d seen their parents do this many times so they imitated the act. Since no cars were out and about, Marcy turned the wheel, not paying attention to the lines on the road. Her driving was simply an effort to stay on the road, because being in the middle just seemed like a good idea. The closer they got into town, the fewer cars they had to dodge on the street anyway. If one did come the other way, she figured she would pull over then.
Macy checked behind. No more dogs followed them. Turning back to face front, Macy knew there had been a few straight miles ahead of them before they got to the highway turnoff. She began to look around the suburban town. Up ahead, the first stop light intersection came into view and there were cars stopped in one lane, even though the light had turned green.
Marcy slowed down as the lane divided, one for going straight, the other for turning. She came to a stop trying to assess the situation. They waited behind the gray SUV in front of them at the green light. They had rehearsed this scenario many times in the past and both girls thought the guy should have started moving by now, but he did not.
“Honk the horn,” Macy suggested as the idea came to her.
Marcy studied the steering wheel, looking for the button to press. She finally noticed the horn icon and pressed it, allowing the intrusive sound to disturb the afternoon silence all around them. Birds flew up in haste along the street side where they were searching for French fries, long gone by now.
Once the sound had dissipated onto the late afternoon horizon, Macy put the drive stick back into R. Marcy then depressed the gas pedal, rolling backwards several car lengths. After applying gentle pressure to the brakes again, to keep herself and her sister from flopping around like ragdolls, Marcy came to a complete stop. Macy moved the drive stick to D again and Marcy rotated the steering wheel left and pressed the gas pedal a little to pass the parked car.
Slowing as they approached, Macy could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Though the girls could not see the face, they both knew what had happened and now the reality settled on them. This was not just their home, their neighborhood, their town. It was all of that.
“I hope Dad’s okay,” Macy said, never having thought of the possibility that he too could have become a victim of the virus as well.
Driving through the intersection that led to the highway entrance ramp, the girls noticed several cars in the way. As Marcy snaked the car through, its bright red paint scraped along a gunmetal gray Suburban, the horrible screeching sound continued as the car forced itself through the space between it and the guardrail.
Marcy continued to wind her way, having gotten the hang of the driving thing by now, she pulled between parked cars in every direction. Macy sat high in her seat to help
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