“Yep. Still want to try?”
“Of course.”
Up University Avenue, then. I stalled at the first traffic light, but fortunately, there was only one driver behind me. He hooted his horn, which made me jump, but I got the car through before the light changed again. The other driver wasn’t so fortunate.
“Everybody was a student driver once,” Joe said. “He’ll live.”
I said, “You’re able to be so calm because you have been in battle so many times, I think.” I braked gently for the next intersection, then decided to brake harder, which threw Joe forward a little.
He’d had to brace himself against the dashboard, but he still laughed. “You’re probably right. It does tend to give a guy some perspective. So far, we’re still alive. There you go; green light. Nice and easy.”
The other car was behind me again. He hooted again, a longer blast this time. Fortunately, we were both able to get through, although only just.
“Good job,” Joe said. “Let’s practice your parking and let him get around you. Put on your turn signal; it’s on your left, remember, and you push it up to turn right. Now pull into a space, right between the white lines. It’s an angle; just follow it on in.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Here,” Joe said. “Right here.”
“Oh!” I swung the car hard to the right.
“Brake!” Joe said. “Brake!”
I stamped on the brake.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the brake.
“Marguerite,” Joe was saying.“Marguerite!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” My hands were fluttering on the steering wheel, my legs shaking. I tried to stop them, but couldn’t. This was very odd.
Joe was at my door, then; how had he got there so fast? The door was open, and he was pulling me out, saying, “You hit your chest on the wheel. How bad is it?”
I felt it now; why hadn’t I done so sooner? “It hurts,” I said. “A … a bruise only.Joe.Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Braced myself.”
“Oh. Good. But—oh, no. Thecar.”
“We’ll get it fixed. Not a big deal. Nobody else hurt, and no damage other than to the car.”
“Are you … are you sure? The pole. The—” I couldn’t think of the word.
“The parking meter’s going to be just fine,” Joe said. “You didn’t even dent it.”
I had, however, dented the beautiful chrome bumper, the one that looked like a locomotive. “Your beautiful car,” I moaned. “Oh, no.”
“Ourbeautiful car. Cars can be fixed. Come on. Let’s head home so I can take a look at that bruise.”
“I don’t want to drive, though.”
“No,” Joe said, “I expect you don’t.” He didn’t say,I don’t want you to drive either,but I’m sure he thought it.
Of course Susie and Fred were coming out of the front door of the building when Joe pulled into the curb. Ofcoursethey were. And how they stared!
“Brother,” Fred said when we climbed out to join them—I’m afraid I’d wished very much to hide in the car with my face covered—“you’ve had the thing aweek.I knew the Army couldn’t drive worth a darn, but?—”
“Be quiet, Fred,” Susie said. “What happened? Are you two OK?”
