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Authors: Aaron Hawkins
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choke." All six kids listened closely, trying to remember all of the instructions.
"All right, you got all that?" They both laughed.
"Got it," Amy said confidently, and the rest of us kids followed her out of the house.
She led the way out to the tractor and climbed up on the bouncy metal seat while we all tried to stand behind her on the rear axle or on the running boards beside the seat.
"Okay, so what are we supposed to do first?" she asked as she grabbed the wheel.
"Put it in neutral," I replied before anyone else.
"Pull the throttle," said Lisa.
"Give it a choke," said Sam.
"Punch the starter," said Michael.
"All right, all right," Amy said, holding up her hands. "I'm not even sure what any of those things are!"
We sent the younger kids back into the house one at a time to ask where to find neutral, the throttle, choke, and starter. After fifteen minutes of confusing answers from our dads, we were ready to give something a try. We all held our breath as Amy reached toward the starter. I grabbed on to the metal wheel wells in case the thing lurched forward.
GRRR, GRRR, GRRR.
The tractor made the very familiar sound of a car not starting. I knew it could have been worse, though. It could have made no sound at all.
"Maybe now a little more choke," I said.
Amy pulled the little choke lever all the way out. "All right, it's all choked. What's a choke, anyway?"
"I don't think anyone really knows. Something magic," I replied.
This time when she pushed the starter, there was a little different sound. A slightly faster
GRRR.
On the third try the engine sputtered a little, trying hard to start.
"Try half choke, half throttle, and hold the starter down for a whole minute," Michael said matter-of-factly, as if he had started tractors hundreds of times.
"Let me go ask them," I said as I climbed down and walked toward the house.
I could tell my dad and uncle were enjoying this. Trying to get them to tell me the right combination of throttle and choke was like trying to get your lunch back from a couple of school bullies. Except that most school bullies are more sympathetic. I walked back to the tractor not sure if I knew any more than when I went into the house.
"Let's try throttle down and full choke. When it starts to turn over, push the choke in and give it full gas."
Amy tried and for a second the engine sputtered and blew out a puff of exhaust.
"I think I just have to be faster," she said before trying again.
Seven attempts later the engine was running. We all jumped up and down and cheered.
"Now go forward! Go forward!" Sam yelled above the motor.
Amy looked over her shoulder at me and mouthed, "Now what?"
I ran into the house and was told about a clutch and how you had to push it in and push the gear stick into gear. I relayed this information into Amy's ear, and she pushed the clutch with her left foot, shoved the stick into position 1, and then yanked her foot up off the clutch. The tractor jumped forward a few feet. Michael flew off the back axle and the engine died. This scene repeated itself several more times, except that Sam was the only one who dared stay on the tractor with Amy.
Finally she marched toward the house, gesturing for me to follow her. We both walked into the living room, where both my uncle and dad were fighting back laughter.
"Daddy, please just come show me how to get it to move once you get it started," Amy said with a pout, looking at her dad.
"Honey, you just have to let the clutch up a little slower. You'll get it."
Just then my aunt came into the room after realizing what was happening outside. She pointed a finger at my uncle and dad. "If they get that thing started and drive it into something or someone, I am holding you two knuckleheads responsible!"
Through the windows we heard the sound of the tractor starting up. Amy and I looked at each other and hurried toward the door, followed closely by our dads.
We arrived outside just in time to see Sam behind the
wheel
"All right, you got all that?" They both laughed.
"Got it," Amy said confidently, and the rest of us kids followed her out of the house.
She led the way out to the tractor and climbed up on the bouncy metal seat while we all tried to stand behind her on the rear axle or on the running boards beside the seat.
"Okay, so what are we supposed to do first?" she asked as she grabbed the wheel.
"Put it in neutral," I replied before anyone else.
"Pull the throttle," said Lisa.
"Give it a choke," said Sam.
"Punch the starter," said Michael.
"All right, all right," Amy said, holding up her hands. "I'm not even sure what any of those things are!"
We sent the younger kids back into the house one at a time to ask where to find neutral, the throttle, choke, and starter. After fifteen minutes of confusing answers from our dads, we were ready to give something a try. We all held our breath as Amy reached toward the starter. I grabbed on to the metal wheel wells in case the thing lurched forward.
GRRR, GRRR, GRRR.
The tractor made the very familiar sound of a car not starting. I knew it could have been worse, though. It could have made no sound at all.
"Maybe now a little more choke," I said.
Amy pulled the little choke lever all the way out. "All right, it's all choked. What's a choke, anyway?"
"I don't think anyone really knows. Something magic," I replied.
This time when she pushed the starter, there was a little different sound. A slightly faster
GRRR.
On the third try the engine sputtered a little, trying hard to start.
"Try half choke, half throttle, and hold the starter down for a whole minute," Michael said matter-of-factly, as if he had started tractors hundreds of times.
"Let me go ask them," I said as I climbed down and walked toward the house.
I could tell my dad and uncle were enjoying this. Trying to get them to tell me the right combination of throttle and choke was like trying to get your lunch back from a couple of school bullies. Except that most school bullies are more sympathetic. I walked back to the tractor not sure if I knew any more than when I went into the house.
"Let's try throttle down and full choke. When it starts to turn over, push the choke in and give it full gas."
Amy tried and for a second the engine sputtered and blew out a puff of exhaust.
"I think I just have to be faster," she said before trying again.
Seven attempts later the engine was running. We all jumped up and down and cheered.
"Now go forward! Go forward!" Sam yelled above the motor.
Amy looked over her shoulder at me and mouthed, "Now what?"
I ran into the house and was told about a clutch and how you had to push it in and push the gear stick into gear. I relayed this information into Amy's ear, and she pushed the clutch with her left foot, shoved the stick into position 1, and then yanked her foot up off the clutch. The tractor jumped forward a few feet. Michael flew off the back axle and the engine died. This scene repeated itself several more times, except that Sam was the only one who dared stay on the tractor with Amy.
Finally she marched toward the house, gesturing for me to follow her. We both walked into the living room, where both my uncle and dad were fighting back laughter.
"Daddy, please just come show me how to get it to move once you get it started," Amy said with a pout, looking at her dad.
"Honey, you just have to let the clutch up a little slower. You'll get it."
Just then my aunt came into the room after realizing what was happening outside. She pointed a finger at my uncle and dad. "If they get that thing started and drive it into something or someone, I am holding you two knuckleheads responsible!"
Through the windows we heard the sound of the tractor starting up. Amy and I looked at each other and hurried toward the door, followed closely by our dads.
We arrived outside just in time to see Sam behind the
wheel
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