It was starting to get dark when my father said hesitantly, “Ok. This is your
last test. If you pass it, you can drive us home.” My face lit up with joy, as I made
sure I had heard correctly.
“Really, Dad?! I can drive us home?”
“Like I said, only if you pass this last test. Parking. You have to be able to
park when we get home.”
“Ok, Dad! I’m ready!”
“So here’s the test. I’m going to put two cups on the ends of the yellow
paint marking a parking space. These cups represent puppies. You must park
without hitting a puppy. Got it Katie?”
“I got it, Dad! I won’t hit the puppies!” I shouted, eager to pass the final
test.
I jumped in the car, started the engine, and circled around the barrier at
the end of the row. I started down the path of truth and spotted the cups. There
it was, the only thing between freedom and me. I slowed down, and started to
pull in. My car began to slide into the space with no evidence of error. Then it
happened. My excitement overwhelmed me, and I rushed the rest of my car into
the space. CRUNCH. Oh no! I put the car in park, turned off the engine, and got
out as fast as I could.
I looked at my dad. His posture and face said it all. I had hit the puppy. I
stepped away from the space to see how bad it was. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as
bad as I had thought. The car was parked almost completely in the space. Only
the end barely jutted outside of the lines. The only problem was the cup, or the
now pieces of plastic that laid at the edge of the parking spot. I had hit the
puppy.
Defeated, I walked
over to the passenger side
and got in. I didn’t need to
say anything for my dad to
know how disappointed I
was.
“It’s all right, sweetie.
Next time,” he said, trying
to ease my pain.
I sat there thinking
about how close I was, how
I almost got on the road.
If only it weren’t for that
puppy.
Tiger Eye
Mixed Media
Jordan Daly
Class of 2018
25