When I was about fourteen, my dad decided it was time to teach me how to drive. He started these lessons by putting me in the drivers seat of his four wheel drive Scout, on a dirt road in the desert.
He always took me to areas where we were unlikely to meet other drivers. In the desert you can see a car coming for a long ways. I could concentrate on driving. I learned when to shift gears and brake and how to steer. He said being a girl was no excuse for not being able to drive a standard.
I was always nervous during these lessons. My dad could be terrifying at times and didn’t always explain himself well enough for me to understand what he wanted. He was very intimidating and I didn’t ask many questions. I usually guessed at what he wanted and hoped for the best. Looking back I know that even then I had post traumatic stress disorder.
One day we were out with Mother and my brothers. I was taking the boys riding, while Mother and dad, were fishing. Dad told me to take the boys up the road, over there. He said to go climb hills or something.
I looked around and wasn’t sure exactly what he meant but the boys were excited and up the road we went. Some how we ended up halfway up a steep gravelly hill. The Scout was slipping around. I panicked and stopped. It felt like the Scout was slipping down the hill.
My brothers were very quiet. I was frozen. I gradually became aware that my dad was yelling at me from the bottom of the hill. He was telling me to stay still. He was running up the hill towards us.
Mother was screaming at him to get her boys out. She was screaming that there was no need for all of her kids to die. I asked the boys to slowly get out of the scout. I knew if anybody should die for this it should be me. Because Mother had just said so.
When dad got to us he told the boys to get back in the truck. I knew he had heard her but he pretended that he hadn’t. He put the hubs in and helped me get into four wheel drive.
He made me back down the hill. I cried and begged but he made me do it. He walked beside us all the way down, all the while talking to me through the window. He apologized for not having been more clear about where he had wanted me to go.
When we got to the bottom of the hill, Mother hugged her boys through her tears. I felt good that I had been able to get them back to her safely.