Violentine- Forever and Always

When Kenny Let Me Drive

Summary: Clem remembers driving with Kenny.

Clementine and Violet were seated at the kitchen table. A box full of old photos sat between them. Some of the old polaroids were faded and worn from years of sitting in an old box. The newer ones still had a sheen to them from the gloss that coated the photographs.

"This is Lee and his family standing in front of their drug store in Macon," Clem explained as she picked up the old photo and showed it to Violet.

Violet took it from her and pointed at a man in light blue scrubs. "I know this is Lee and his parents. But who is this?"

Clem looked at who she was pointing to and smiled. "That's Lee's younger brother, Bud. He worked in the pharmacy at their store." She took the photo back and pointed at her adoptive father, dressed in a white button-up shirt. "Lee went back to school to get his teaching degree but his brother stayed behind to work at the drug store."

"And now he works at our school?" Violet wanted to confirm.

Clem nodded and placed the photo back down while Violet picked up a newer one from a few years ago. "You owned a boat?"

"What?" Clem asked confused. She looked at the photo in Violet's hands. It was a picture of her standing in front of an old wooden boat, painted red with a white stripe going across it. She couldn't have been older than eight years old, with her locks of curly hair sticking out from under her blue and white baseball cap.

"Oh, that's not our boat. It was my uncle Kenny's. He always loved the water. That's why he's a commercial fisherman." Clem explained.

She picked up another photo with her in the boat sitting in the driver's seat and Kenny explaining how it worked. "I remember this like it was yesterday."

She smiled at the memory. "It was painted red, but the stripe was white. Eighteen footer, from the bow to the stern light. It was a second-hand boat from a dealer in Savannah. I road up with Kenny and Lee when he went there to get her."

She pointed at the boat in the picture. "We put on a shine and put on a motor. It was built out of love and made for the water. He ran it for years till the transom got rotten. It's a piece of my childhood that'll never be forgotten."

She put down the photo and used her hands to describe the memory. "It was just an old plywood boat. A seventy-five Johnson, with electric choke. I was a young girl, with two hands on the wheel."

She closed her eyes for a moment as the feeling overtook her. "I can't replace the way it made me feel. And I would turn its shoreline, and make it wide. Kenny'd say, 'You can't beat the way an old wood boat rides.'"

She looked back at the picture of the boat on the water. "It was just a little lake across the Savannah line, but I was queen of the ocean when Kenny let me drive."

Violet chuckled. "You? Driving an old wood boat? I would have loved to see it." She smiled at her own memory. "Grandpa used to take me out fishing on his old boat. I used to love being out on the water."

She placed her hand on top of Clem's and intertwined their fingers. " Wish I could have been there with you."

Clem's cheeks were tinted pink at Violet's actions.

Then Violet dug into the box and picked up a new picture. One of eleven-year-old Clem sitting in an old beat-up truck with the window rolled down, her hands on the wheel at ten and two as she stared out the window at the camera. "What about this one?"

Clem took the photo from her and laughed. "It was just an old half-ton, short-bed Ford, but I used to love riding around in it."

She pointed at the truck. "My uncle bought it brand new in ninety-four. Kenny got it right, cause the engine started smoking. A couple burnt valves later and he had it going."

"I was only eleven, but he'd let me drive it when we'd haul off a load. Just down a dirt strip where they'd dump trash off of Thickpin road."

Clem sat up straight and pretended to act like she was driving. "I would sit up in the seat and stretch my feet out to the pedals. It got me so excited. I was smiling like a hero who just received a medal."

"It was just an old hand me down, Ford. With three-speed on the column and a dent in the door from when Kenny once got mad and kicked it. I was a young girl with two hands on the wheel at ten and two. I can't replace the way it made me feel. Kenny was the one who taught me how to drive stick." She told Violet. "I would press that clutch, and I'd keep it right. Then he'd say, 'A little slower Clem, you're doin' just fine.' It was just a dirt road with trash on each side, but I was Mario Andretti when Kenny let me drive."

"Sounds like fun," Violet told her. "Did you crash it then like you do now?" Violet joked with her.

"Hey! That was one time!" Clem exclaimed.

"You totally took out that guy's mailbox." Violet laughed at her girlfriend. "You should've seen the look on his face."

"I couldn't with how busy I was looking at Lee's reaction. I was grounded for a week after that."

Violet wiped tears from her eyes. "Still, it was a good one. Let's hope our kids don't inherit your driving skills.

Clem rolled her eyes. "Let's find a different picture."

——————

Fifteen years later
Clem's POV:

I'm grown up now with three daughters of my own. My oldest, Willow, sitting in my lap with Milli and Katie sitting in the back. Violet sat next to me with a weary look on her face.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" My wife asked me.

"Of course. I used to drive at this age with Lee and Kenny. I'd sit on his lap and he'd let me turn the wheel. Besides we're only going ten miles per hour and there's nothing for her to run into."

"Okay, if you're sure." Violet reluctantly agreed.

I started up the car, with a turn of the key. "Ready Willow?" I asked.

She nodded and grasped the wheel in her small hands and I brushed some of her hair from her eyes. She looked just like her mama with her blonde hair and green eyes. I couldn't believe how lucky I was.

"Okay, here we go." And I applied a little pressure to the gas pedal and we started to move. I let them drive my old Jeep across the pasture at our home.

I had Violet hold her camera and take pictures while we rode. Our girls were young but I was hoping that one day they'll reach back in their file and pull out that old memory, and think of me and smile.

And when they're older they'd say, "it's just an old worn-out Jeep with rusty old floorboards, hot on my feet. A young girl, two hands on the wheel. I can't replace the way it made me feel. And Mommy'd say turn it left, now steer it right. Straighten up girl, now you're doing just fine."

I sighed at the thought of hearing that. I wanted to capture every memory I could with our girls. And here was the start of something brand new, the start of a lifetime of driving and a lifetime of memories. And my favorite part would be when they'd say, "Just a little valley by the river where we'd ride. But I was high on a mountain when Mommy let me drive."