Learning to Drive, part four

Leta could not ascertain whether she was eager or anxious about her second automobile driving lesson. Aside from her nervousness and fear, however, the first lesson went very well. She sat in the driver’s seat, learned some of the controls, practiced with the choke, clutch and gears, and even started the engine. These were activities she could manage. Then again, she had not operated the automobile while it was in motion, down the street, with pedestrians and bicycles and other automobiles also moving in the same and opposite directions. This would be the next step, and she was apprehensive. She could have been less nervous if she actually knew when her next lesson would be.

“Or more,” she said aloud without realizing it as she set the table for supper on Wednesday evening. After all, if she had a specific date and time, she might be dreading the moment even more. For his part, her husband Bob had been very supportive. During the first lesson, he was patient and supportive. Then he praised her for learning so quickly.

Earlier that Wednesday, she had gone shopping with her daughter Vivian. While Bob would not admit it, Leta believed that his insistence on teaching her how to drive an automobile was the direct result of Vivian having learned from her husband Ed. While her daughter and son-in-law owned only one automobile, of course, Vivian had learned to operate the vehicle so that she could use it on certain days for activities and appointments. After all, Vivian explained to her, mostly the car just sat in the parking lot of the factory where Ed worked all day. Whether Vivian had noticed or not, Leta watched her like a hawk during their drives. The ease at which Vivian managed the clutch and gears simultaneously terrified and thrilled her. But she said nothing about her own driving lesson. After Vivian left, Leta continued to think about driving.

Bob arrived home a little earlier than usual in very good spirits. He was a warm and engaging fellow most of the time, anyway, but on this particular Wednesday, he was more than usually cheerful.

“Hello, wife!” he said, as he entered the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek.

She was so startled and his good cheer so effective that she also laughed.

“You’re home early,” she noted.

“Yepper,” he said as he poked around the stove. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Leta glanced out the window. “It most certainly is.”

“A beautiful day for a driving lesson, that is,” he continued.

Leta had just put the last fork down. Instantly, she was as tense as she had ever been. Bob was standing by the stove. She looked at him.

“We can turn this off for a little while, can’t we?” he asked, gesturing to the simmering pots on the stove.

“How long are we talking here?”

“About 30 minutes I’d say,” he clarified.

“Well, yes, I suppose,” she answered.

“We’ll just take a few turns around the block. I don’t want you to forget what I’ve taught you so far.

There was a long pause.

“Are you ready then?” Bob finally asked.

Leta’s body felt as though she had gone into shock. She couldn’t move. Even her mind had gone blank, and all she could do was look at her husband, standing by the stove, framed by steam from the boiling potatoes and corn behind him. She could not decide if it made him look like some angel descended from heaven or a devil with the fiery furnace of hell behind him. Finally, he turned.

“I’ll just turn these off,” he said, reaching around to the dials of the burners on the stove, “while you get your hat.”

Leta’s body started to move before she had conscious knowledge of it, and a few moments later she was standing at the front door in her hat and coat.

“I don’t think you need your coat,” Bob said. “It’s pretty warm out there, and warm in the auto.”

Leta looked at herself, and laughed awkwardly.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “I don’t know where my head is. You just surprised me. And look,” she added as she took off her coat, “I’m still wearing my apron!”

A couple of minutes later, she was sitting again in the driver’s seat of Bob’s automobile.

To be continued.

Learning to Drive, Part three

Leta stared at the console. Although she had been in an automobile many times, she had always been a passenger. The dials and instruments were not completely unfamiliar to her, but she had never paid much attention to them. She had never needed to, and while she wasn’t afraid of learning new things, she was practical about doing so. Sitting in the driver’s seat of her husband Bob’s automobile was a foreign experience.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me,” she said. “I can’t learn how to drive this contraption.”

“Of course, you can,” her husband said, hovering beside her. He was still standing outside the vehicle, holding himself with one arm on the open door and another on the top of the car. He was leaning in very closely.

“But I’m 45 years old!” she protested.

“And beautiful,” he added. “Don’t forget beautiful.”

She pursed her lips and looked at him quickly.

“Flattery is not going to get you anywhere,” she said.

“Then humor me,” he said. “One lesson, and if you don’t like it, we’ll stop.”

“It just,” she stuttered, “it just seems unnatural.”

“Trust me on this,” he said. “It’ll be like learning how to ride a bike.”

“I don’t know how to ride a bike,” she stated.

He paused only a moment, but decided not to respond to her. Then he reached in and began to go over the controls. After that, he closed the car door, circled around it, and sat beside her in the passenger seat. Leta still held her hands in her lap.

“Now put your hands on the steering wheel, he said, your right hand at two o’clock and your left at eight o’clock. Leta complied. “Now just relax,” he urged. “You’re stiff as a board.”

“I’m nervous,” she said.

“The automobile is your friend, a companion,” Bob said soothingly. “Have you ever driven a buggy?”

“Yes.”

“Then think about it this way—you are in a horseless carriage. Instead of the reins, you have the steering wheel,” he explained. “And I promise you. The automobile is far more obedient than one or two horses. And look, the parking brake is basically the same. That lever right there.”

Leta reached for it.

“Don’t touch it!” Bob warned quickly, and she pulled her hand back. “We don’t want you accidentally releasing it.”

Both of Leta’s hands were back in her lap, and she turned to her husband with a scowl. “I do understand about parking brakes,” she snapped.

“Of course, of course,” he smiled.

For a few moments, Leta’s bit of anger relaxed her, and Bob was able to have her go through the gears and choke. When she tried to turn the steering wheel, she was surprised to learn that it wouldn’t budge. He told her that it would be easier when the automobile was moving, but that it would require some arm strength. Then he had her practice operating the choke and gears without actually turning on the ignition. From her perspective, he was as apprehensive as she was to let her start the engine and control actual movement. She practiced this several times, and then Bob had her start the car.

“You’re doing very well, darling,” he said.

Leta just stared ahead, clutching the steering wheel with all her strength.

“Now turn off the engine.”

“What?” she questioned quickly.

“Turn off the engine. “This ends your first lesson.

Leta completed the task and slumped back in the seat.

Bob gave her a quick hug and turned to toward the back seat.

“You deserve a beer,” he said.

To be continued.

Learning to Drive, part two

On a pleasant Sunday afternoon, Bob suggested to Leta that they go for a drive. Usually that meant a brief road trip to a pub for a beer. Sometimes they would stop at a grassy knoll on the Maumee River and watch the boats. While neither was much for boating, they did enjoy watching both the large lake freighters and smaller pleasure boats coming and going for business and pleasure.

Leta was writing a letter to her sister Mabel and feeling a little melancholy. While the sisters corresponded regularly, they had not seen each other in decades. In fact, if Mabel had not sent photographs over the years to Leta or her sisters Louise and Nellie who lived close by, Leta would not know what she looked like. Mabel had left home and Ohio when Leta was only three years old, ending up in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Still, Leta believed that they were close. They shared stories of their lives with each other and also gave advice and support when necessary. During one of Leta’s bleaker financial periods, Mabel event sent her $10 to pay her grocery and electric bills. Leta paid her sister back as soon as she was able; she always paid her debts.

Bob made his suggestion after finishing the newspaper and coming into the kitchen where Leta was writing. At first, she thought he might be angling for a snack. He knew that she had made a cherry pie for supper, and sometimes he ran out of patience while waiting.

“How’s about going for a drive?” he said with more energy and enthusiasm than usual.

Still holding her pen, she looked up at him. “Right now?”

“Yes,” he said with a stretch. “It’s a sunny day. Hate being cooped up in the house all the time. It would be a waste, don’t you think?”

“Can I finish my letter first?” she inquired. “Then we can drop it in the post box.”

“If I can have a piece of pie while I wait,” he responded slyly.

She furrowed her brow and looked at her husband. He raised his eyebrows, a habit he had of sharing a joke. She smiled.

“Okay, you win,” she conceded as she stood. “We go for a drive now.”

“Aw, Leta,” he protested like a ten-year-old boy.

“You said you wanted to go for a drive,” she smiled. “Let me get my hat and my pocketbook.”

Five minutes later, she took his arm as they left their front porch toward the driveway where his car was parked. Usually, he walked her to the passenger side, opened the door, and after she situated herself, closed it behind her. This time, he escorted her to the driver’s side.

“Robert?” she questioned.

He opened the car door and with a flourish gestured that she should seat herself.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

“Please, take your seat, madam,” he said, extending his arm and bowing slightly.

“I’m sure you’re not expecting me to sit there,” she said.

“Well, my darling, you are never going to learn how to drive an automobile until you get in and start your first lesson.”

Leta stepped back and then did it again as she spoke.

“You want me to learn how to drive?” she gasped.

To be continued.

Learning to Drive, part one

One breezy Wednesday afternoon, Leta was sitting on the front porch darning some of her husband Bob’s socks. She had finished most of her housework for the day and had been sitting in her favorite rocking chair for fifteen minutes. She liked the light of being outside, but the wind was chilly, and she had not put on a sweater. While the sun provided good lighting for her work, even popping in and out from behind a chain of cumulus clouds that chugged across the sky, it withheld the warmth that would have made her time on the porch more comfortable.

She was chilled. She needed to start cooking supper. She needed a cup of coffee. She stood and started to gather her materials. As the street had been quiet for some time, she felt as much as saw the automobile approaching. The driver was moving cautiously, but steadily.

It looks like Ed’s car, she said to herself, but she knew that her son-in-law was still at work. Yet her own curiosity kept her gaze as the auto continued. She became more interested when the vehicle seemed to be going slower as it neared. Still holding her sewing materials and three pairs of recently darned stocks, Leta moved to the edge of the porch. The view didn’t change all that much, but she felt closer to the activity.

The vehicle stopped in front of her house. It sure looked like her son-in-law’s car. The sun had just reappeared, reflecting off the shiny exterior and darkening the windows, so all she saw of the driver was a shadowy figure. The door opened, and she leaned forward even more. The driver stood, and then Leta stepped back. The driver was her daughter Vivian!

Vivian waved. Leta responded in kind, but weakly as she was very startled.

“Hi, Ma!” her daughter said as she approached the sidewalk up to the porch.

“Saint’s alive,” Leta gasped. “you drove here?”

Vivian smiled.

“When did you learn how to drive?” Leta questioned.

“Ed taught me,” Vivian answered. “He’s been teaching me for a few weeks. Today is my first day driving by myself.”

Leta had never anticipated such a thing. While she knew of a couple of women who drove automobiles, they were rare. Neither she nor any of her sisters or sister-in-law knew how to drive, although her sister Louise had been talking about learning.

“Mother?” Vivian inquired gently. Leta was so startled that she lost track of her senses for a few moments.

“Oh yes,” Leta said, still disconcerted but functional. “I was just about to go inside. Come with me.”

They both took one look at the automobile parked on the street, and then went into the house. Leta put her sewing on a chair, and they proceeded into the kitchen for a cup of a coffee.

“How long has this been going on?” Leta asked. “I can hardly believe it.”

“Ed’s been teaching me for a few weeks now,” Vivian answered. He first taught me about the controls, and then I began to practice, driving around our neighborhood. A few days ago I got my license.”

She opened her purse and produced the piece of paper testifying to her ability to operate the vehicle.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Leta pressed after examining the document.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Vivian answered, unsuccessfully holding back a smile.

“Well, you most certainly did.” Then she sighed loudly. “Saint’s alive, my daughter is driving a motorcar.”

“It’s actually a good thing, Ma,” Vivian said. “It allows me to run errands during the day and do other things, like visit you.”

“What about Ed?”

“I take him to work in the morning, and pick him up at the end of the day. Not every day, just one here and there. Believe me, I don’t want to be driving all the time. But if you need me to, I can take you places, too.”

“But I have Bob and the streetcar when I need it,” Leta said.

‘Of course, you do,” Vivian said. “And now you have me, too.”

For the next hour, the two chatted about driving, home life, sewing and many other things that both would forget about almost immediately. Then, with Leta watching from the sidewalk, Vivian got into the vehicle, started it, turned it around, and proceeded down the street. Leta heart was beating hard, and once Vivian started, she realized she had forgotten to tell her daughter to be careful on the bridge across the river. She took a few awkward and anxious steps toward the vanishing automobile, but quickly realized it was too late. Leta spent the rest of the evening in a light state of nervousness until she finally telephoned her daughter to make sure the young woman arrived home safely. She had and was just about to eat her supper with Ed.

When her own husband asked how her day went, Leta reported the news. Robert was less surprised than she expected, but then again, he was never the old fashioned sort.

“Good for her,” he said with a touch of pride.

To be continued.