In honor of the rebirth of CSC, I will veer off the road and into the ditch.
I had planned to follow the timeline, but sometimes you just have to ride
it out.
It was a Saturday after lunch. I had just put the 3 1/2 hp motah on my friend.
Papa, Mom and my older Sister Pif had come out to watch. My Sister was named Zeke for her first year of life.
Now, the lower driveway was paved down a short hill and ran out past my little shop
of horrors and turned to dirt. The dirt continued for about 150 feet and made a hard
90 degree left turn up to the fire roads and a neighbors right of way.
Papa said why don't you let your sister drive it.
Because she drives like %$#@
NO SWEARING.
She drives like crap.
Mom is afraid to get in the car with her and the last time you did,
you looked like a ghost. She ran the only red light in town.
Who told you that?
Mom did.
Let your sister drive it.
No, she`ll wreck it.
LET your sister drive it!
I don't want to.
Let her drive it. She has her drivers license.
Who gave it to her?
The state of NH.
Live free or die?
That`s not funny, LET your sister ride it!
Papa turned and bent over.
I always hated that.
Ok Pif.
Don't floor it.
You`ll never make the corner.
You don't know how to power slide.
There is a phone pole and cable straight ahead and a brook with woods to the left.
Papa is in front of me and to my right.
Pif to my left.
I walk around and in front of Papa, turn and give him my best
"thanks asshole" look.
I look down and see the string pull tight.
Wide open.
We watch as Pif goes faster.
I am having bad thoughts.
The engine is mounted on a new larger pad on the left.
Centrifigal clutch driving the #36 chain to the Sears tire.
Faster she goes and the choice arrives.
I thought she would try to make the corner.
I was wrong.
She bailed out into the field on the right.
I watched my poor friend flip over the left front tire.
Up in the air they went.
Spinning violently out of control in what had become slow motion in my vision.
We all ran over.
My friend was in pieces.
My sister got up, turned, and asked me if her sweater was dirty.
It was at this precise moment in my young life that I realized there were
some fundamental differences between boys and girls.
Papa put his large hand on my shoulder.
He squeezed it a good bit and said if you touch her, I`ll kill you.
I went back to my little shop.
I was power sliding by dusk.
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