12.
My 13th birthday was looming, and the pressure of getting older bore down harder than ever before. I had to clear my head.
This night, my mind was made up. My parents finally went to sleep.
I splashed on a handful of dad's Hai Karate aftershave and crept downstairs; slipping the keys off their hook.
Quietly rolling the tiny silver K-Car out of the driveway and hit the streets.
Ten years as a little back seat driver had taught me all I required.
For the next two years, those midnight drives - just me and the open road - was the essence of freedom.
Sunroof open, radio tuned, and a grape soda in the cup holder.
Cruising the vacant city to late night radio classics like
Careless Whisper,
You Belong to The City, or Lionel's
All Night Long.My mustache was coming in, and along with my father's sport coat and clumsy Ray Ban's, I passed for a young licensed driver - at a glance in the dark.
2 or 3 throw pillows put me at the approximate height to see over the dashboard.
I knew better than to speed, or make abrupt stops or lane changes that might attract attention.
I simply followed what everyone else was doing.
Police cars would pass, glancing casually, and proceed onward.
The drives were never more than 2 hours at most, as I had school in the morning. Spelling was our first lesson, so I needed to be sharp.
The car, and me; were safely tucked away again for the night.
And to this day, no one is the wiser.
My mother did begin, however, to chastise my father for wearing too much aftershave whenever he took the car.
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