The Teacher

The Teacher: Part I Unchained, Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

HOLDEN OPENED THE DOOR TO HIS black Hummer for me, I threw in my High Sierra backpack, then climbed in.

"I promised you a ride, but are you game to spice things up just a bit?" Holden challenged.

"Well, that depends. What did you have in mind?"

"Remember the Ferrari? You said you'd never drive it. Still feel that way?" Holden teased, expecting a different answer this time.

"You know...I think I could get into seeing just what that fine machine can do on a wide-open stretch of road," I didn't hesitate to reply.

"Now, why doesn't that surprise me...I'll swing by the house. Just so you know, it's set up with a five-speed stick on the floor and a stiff suspension. With all the power it has, be ready to move when you let out the clutch," Holden instructed, his words laced with a touch of warning.

I'd never driven a stick before but that didn't concern me. The anticipation of unleashing all that raw power and precision had me panting like a panther about to pounce on some hapless prey.

"Right...got it...don't worry, I can ride a clutch!"

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

"Just put me in that driver's seat, sit back, and watch what happens!"

With the gauntlet dropped, Holden turned the corner and pulled into the driveway. There was one button to open the garage, and another to activate the Enzo's doors, which slowly folded up and out on their forward hinges, reminiscent of that all-time car classic, the 1958 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing.

The midnight metallic-blue car was barely visible having melted into the gray shadows in the rear recesses of the expansive garage. As promised, he let me sit in the driver's seat, showed me the switch to lower the doors, I inserted the key, forced down the stiff clutch, and pushed the starter button.

With that the V-12 custom-assembled monster of a rear-mounted engine came to life, began a rough rumble before synchronizing in the low-frequency, high-decibel growl of a mechanical lion—not the purr of a house cat of a car. She was facing forward, so all I had to worry about was getting the shifter in first.

"You know what to do now, right? Begin releasing the clutch until it starts to grab, then ease the pedal up very slowly."

"...I can do this," I stubbornly insisted.

"Fasten your seatbelt!" Holden ordered.

"Right...right."

THE CLUTCH ENGAGED ANIMATING the magnificent mechanism which lurched forward squealing its rear wheels in delight at being allowed to prowl the roads once again.

"Hey...easy...no noise in the city. We don't want the police to think we're racing. The car is barely street-legal as it is," Holden chided.

"Gotcha...but it won't be easy...to hold her back!" I replied.

"I know, but resist the urge until we get out on Highway 94 past Indian Lake on the way to Hiawatha, then, you can turn her loose on Doge Lake Road," Holden suggested.

"That works for me."

Soon we were clear of the city limits and heading for a stretch of winding country road. With some time to kill, Holden became reflective.

"I wanted to share some ideas that might help you transition into your new life—first of all, not sleeping. You can substitute meditation. It isn't sleep, but it can help you wind down when your mind is racing and you just need some internal peace and calm. Some of us have actually learned to astral project," Holden admitted.