Love, Dad | ✔️

9| TAKE YOUR TIME

As we drive through the winding rural roads, everything from the day before: the visit to Niagara Falls, the hospital, Harmony Moonbeam – it all turns a whiter shade of pale.

The faithful blue Pontiac hums steadily, and on our way to Denver, the scenery suddenly shifts to picturesque vast fields of green, dotted with red rustic barns and wooly grazing animals.

The air is fresher here, and a sense of profound tranquility washes over me.

It might just be the calm that I need after all this emotional turbulence.

And then comes more turbulence.

The engine coughs and sputters. It's a dreadful, hollow sound that reminds me of a patient hacking their lungs out lying in a hospital bed.

"Dave? Is everything okay? Pontiac never made this sound before."

Dave's grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he mutters something under his breath. Possibly, a swearword. "Nope, it didn't. You're right. Something's definitely gotta be wrong with it," he says.

Great. Another thing we needed to slow us down.

I glance over at him, my heart pounding. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

The car jerks forward, then slows down, like a human being struggling to breathe. I can feel the panic rising in my chest.

We can't afford to stop now. We can't afford to fix the car. 

We can't afford... anything.

"We're losing time, Dave," I say, my voice shaking. "And we don't have enough money to fix this."

"Okay. Let's discuss this. You're obviously upset." Dave drives off the road. The Pontiac engine sputters to a stop, and now we just sit there in a heavy, tense silence.

I can feel the frustration and fear bubbling up inside me, and I turn to Dave, my voice sharp. "What did you mean by, 'something's wrong with it'? Do you even know what something is?"

"No. I'd have to take a look." It's obvious he's avoiding my gaze and it's so frigging irritating.

"Or is this another situation like the one where you said we had enough money to get to L.A.?"

Dave looks over at me.. "I... I already apologized for that. I might have bragged a little there but... I honestly thought we did. I mean, we had enough, but then things got more expensive and—"

"Are you kidding me?" I cut him off, my anger flaring. "You outright lied to me, Dave. In the first five minutes of our trip, too. You told me we had enough money. And I was foolish enough to trust you. I trusted you!"

He runs a hand through his hair, looking distressed. "Lewis, I didn't mean to lie. I thought we could make it. I wanted to... Look good in your book. And... I didn't want you to worry."

"Well, guess what? Now that this car has broken down, I'm worried now!" I snap. "I could have... crashed on a classmate's couch. I could have borrowed money from someone and gotten on the next Greyhound bus to L.A., even if I missed the first one because of you. I could have done anything but gone with you! Come to think of it, I probably should have."

Dave looks hurt, and for a moment, he just stares at me, his face pale. "Lewis, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. You know it."

I shake my head, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. "Sorry doesn't help us now, Dave. We're stuck in the middle of nowhere with no money and a car that's breaking down."

He reaches for my hand, but I pull away, my anger and frustration too raw. 

"Hey. Please. We'll figure this out. I'm sure we will. We always do."