Joy Ride

Graham was so eager to pull into that driveway. He had driven the swirling county roads many times on the way to visit his grandfather, but he had never done it in style such as this. As he rolled down the window, he couldn’t help but catch a smile flicker across his face in the mirror, as the wind popped through his hair, and the smell of fall danced along the smell of the new car. He felt the life reverberating in his hands, as if he was connected to the car through the steering wheel. In a way, he was. The Mustang responded to his every move, just like he had dreamt it would. It roared like a lion, its pitch bouncing off the road and dancing on his ear drums. To him, this car was much more than a car, it was a symbol of freedom. He had saved, pinched, and even suffered his way to the ownership of this vehicle, and he was not about to let this day go by without sharing it with the man who inspired it all. Two old pines marked the entrance to the gravel drive that led up to his grandfather’s house. He pulled the car into the drive, slow as to avoid the pitting in the driveway that had formed over the years from over use and neglect. The winding drive ended next to a small home, more of a shack, really. When he was younger, this shack had been a mansion. He remembered cutting wood with his grandfather behind it for the fireplace, feeling the axe in his hands, watching his grandfather make the perfect cut, and then imitating behind him. He smiled as he pulled up next to the house, parking beside all of the other cars belonging to the extended family that had come to pay their respects.

“There you are!” Graham heard as he closed his car door behind him, feeling the shiver of fall wind cut through him. He turned to see his mother up on the porch, waving him up.

As he trudged towards the house, he couldn’t help but look over at the garage. Less than a garage, really, more of a two-bay carport. That’s where Graham had first taken an interest in cars, in particular the Mustang. He had worked on old trucks with him there, and his grandfather had talked about the days when he was the very age he was now, and how he had saved up and bought his dream Mustang, and how the car had handled perfectly, how all the girls in high school had craned their pretty necks to catch him zooming by. How his hair popped when the wind went through it.

Hugging his mother, he asked, “How is he?”

“Not much better. The nurse said it could be any day. He can’t stop asking about your new car.”

Graham felt the smile return to his face. He knew his cheeks were bursting with a blush red hue.

“Get in there!” she prodded, pointing towards the door.

Once inside, Graham exchanged pleasantries with some of the family, making his way through aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters, until he was able to get bed side. He had never seen such a fragile image. His grandfather was connected to tubes. His skin was creasing and cracked. A machine blaring vital signs hummed, beeping occasionally as if it was some sort of ominous cuckoo clock. He knelt down next to his grandfather, placing his hand on him.

“Graham?” his grandfather managed.

“Yes, grandpa. I’m here,” Graham smiled, giving his hand a slight squeeze to reassure him.

“Well, did you get it?”

“I sure did. Grandpa, you would love it.”

“Tell me about her,” His grandfather replied, closing his eyes, swallowing.

“Well,” Graham started, looking up at the ceiling now, thinking of all the things to say, “For starters, its the 2011 edition I’ve had my eyes on for a couple of years. One owner.”

“No, no,” his grandfather interrupted, “tell me about her.”

Graham gulped, but nodded. “She’s blue. She’s fast. She’s loud. She’s just like you said she was. I wish you still had yours. I wish that we could drive them together. Take them for a spin.”

His grandfather managed a smile, nodding along as Graham spoke.

“A joy ride,” He offered.

“Yes, grandpa,” Graham said. He looked up, noticing his mother was back in the room, a tear forming in her eyes as she watched her son and her father. Soon the machines behind them started to beep, and his grandfather twisted and turned in pain. The nurse came back in the room, and Graham kissed his grandfather’s head before leaving the room with his mother, who then signaled Graham to follow her outside.

“Thank you for coming.” She whispered as she hugged her son’s neck.

“Of course, mom. I just wish he could see the car.”

“Oh son, me too. He would have loved it.” she was smiling, water still forming in the corners of her eyes.

“I got it because of his, because he had one when he was my age.”

His mother brushed away the tears with a swipe of her elbow and looked at her son. “Graham, he never had a Mustang. Your grandfather has never even sat in a Mustang.”

“What?” Graham asked, looking from his mother to the old garage decaying beside the home.

“He was too poor. He changed oil on Mustangs at the shop Uncle Hugh owned downtown.”

Graham looked at her in disbelief. He placed his heads on his head and then threw them down, leaning against the railing on the porch and looking down at his Mustang, shining with the reflection of the early moon starting to form against the sky.

His mother, sensing his dejection, gave him a big hug.

“Son, he wanted you to have dreams. All he would talk about are all the things that you deserve. He is so proud of you.”

Graham nodded, a tad choked up himself. After exchanging goodbyes, he trudged towards his car, shaking with the grief setting in as he gave a passing glance at the two-bay car port, and realizing that those old trucks may have been the only joy ride his grandfather had enjoyed.

A hazy dusk had taken over the skyline now, and the low beam lights came on to compensate, casting an eerie glow onto the two old pines at the end of the drive. Graham looked at the empty passenger seat, and imagined his grandfather sitting there with him. He looked at the leather finish, realizing that one day the leather in this car would crease and crack, just like the skin on his grandfather’s face, and that ultimately age would place this car’s best days behind it, just as it had for his grandfather, but it would not take his joy. Not today. He placed the car in gear, glanced at the passenger seat and smiled, knowing that at least one more joy ride laid ahead.