1/3 } Pilot’s Licence for a Porsche

{ Chapter 1 – Excerpt #3}

{ “The Porsche 911 Accident” }

Pilot’s Licence for a Porsche

“I explained we had been in a “bit” of an accident. “Bit” was an understatement to say the least. The pale description was also swallowed when the flatbed pulled up with Alex’s crumpled Porsche on it. That’s what it looked like. A crumpled Porsche.”

When morning came, I’m not sure if anyone had slept in the room at all. Wait, that’s not true. Perhaps my father did – he’s always been a good sleeper. Maybe he slept for all of us that night. I don’ think my mother slept much. I imagine I passed in and out. Kingston felt surreal in the morning. ‘Felt like the night hadn’t really happened. That this wasn’t really happening you know?  It was Saturday so no class for sure. I’m not entirely sure how the rest of the weekend unfolded. I know we returned to my University house I was sharing with 3 roommates. My friend Carrie who we had dropped off had actually been worried and wondered where we were. I can’t say enough how thankful I am we dropped her off. I explained we had been in a “bit” of an accident. “Bit” was an understatement to say the least. The pale description also was swallowed when the flatbed pulled up with Alex’s crumpled Porsche on it. That’s what it looked like. A crumpled Porsche. The mouths of my roommates dropped when they saw the car get dropped off outside my doorstep.You were in that Kate?” they said. “How did you get out? God, your so lucky to be alive.” They were right. You see, this was the first I would actually see the car. I couldn’t see when we spun out, when we stopped, when I got out and when I left – it was always pitch black. That’s when it hit me, just how lucky we were.

I forgave Alex right away. Not verbally, but as a matter of course, I never held him accountable. Afterall, it was an accident. He didn’t mean to do this. I don’t know why the car started to spin out. He wouldn’t do this on purpose right? I went home with my parents immediately to recuperate. I wasn’t moving very fast and was in quite a bit of pain in still in my mouth and leg. Alex came with us. My mother set me up in the tv room like she always did when one of is was sick. She was the best nurse. I don’t know another mother that sets up a “get better bay” like her. Alex stayed another night. I remember him talking to his bestfriend and his parents. He didn’t mention the accident. He said everything is fine when his friend asked why he needed to be picked up. I asked him why he didn’t say anything to his bestfriend and his parents. He said he was ready yet. That we would tell them in person. Looking back. I was too forgiving. Too kind. I should have seen the signs right then and there that the lies would continue, but I didn’t. I thought it was a reasonable answer.

I stayed home for one week. I was pretty wiped, but at 21 I had a lot of energy so one over takes the other. My father was worried about my studies and wanted me to return. I felt I had disappointed them both and that I was responsible for this car accident. I went back to school feeling guilty. Alex offered to drive me back. I was a little unnerved about this. Ironically, the courting part of our relationship – having grown up in the country and in compete opposite sides of the city – was driving in cars. And I used to tell him I never felt safer then I did driving with him through the backroads, summer wind in my hair (oh so cliché) and the soundtrack of our puppie-love blaring out the speakers of his Triumph Spitfire. God, I used to have my arms flailing out the window with the wind taken control of them screaming Where the Streets Have No Name at the top of my lungs. { FYIIt’s an excellent driving song! } But now, now I was reluctant. I hadn’t been in a car all week since I got myself out of his. I told him I’d take the train. He offered again and said it would be ok. I’d like to add here that our relationship was over. Way over. But we did that terrible train wreck thing with your first love where you go back and forth. I had known him now since I was 16 years old after meeting him at the summer camp where we were counsellors together. I had just celebrated my 21st birthday two weeks prior to the accident. We were phone buddies for 2 years before we tried dating.

He insisted he take me back to Kingston. “Alright” I said. Maybe he was trying to be chivalrous. You know, he got me into this mess and he’ll get me out, not wanting to trouble my parents kind of thing. I packed and got ready for school. My mouth was a mess. A tangled cut up mess with braces to match. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to hanging out in the halls of school again. I did know that I couldn’t miss more school and did want to get back for that reason. Alex would pick me up the following day. I told him I preferred to leave in the day before night fell so I could see the roads and feel safer. He said no problem. Flashback to my highschool prom and the excitement of wanting to show up in his convertible Spitfire as a treat. He showed up – late…in the beat-up camp pick-up truck. Oh, the signs. Why didn’t I pay attention to them? The autumn dusk was looming and Kingston was a 2 hour drive away ( although he managed it one hour and 25 minutes one time). I heard a horn honk in the driveway. It was Alex and it night had already fallen. I was relieved anyways for him to be there to take me back. I walked out to the car. As I came into the light of the cars reflection from the moon, I was confused. It was a Porsche. “Alex! Is this a Porsche? You’re kidding me. Alex! This isn’t funny. How can you show up here with the same car we almost died in last week? Where did you get this car?” “You’ll be fine Kate. Get it. It’s ok. I’ll drive slow.” he said reassuringly? “Alex! Please. This isn’t funny.” The emotions my body was going through were uncontrollable. There was no way in hell I was getting back into the same car on a 2 hour drive in the dark.” I felt bad for him. Showing up to take me back. But how could he show up the same make of car? A Porsche is no ordinary car right? I so reluctantly got in that car. I didn’t feel relaxed. I didn’t feel excited to be driving with him. I was on edge the whole time. It felt cold in the car. It was the last week of October and the cold front had started all ready.
“Alex, why is it so cold in the car?”
“Well, ” he smirked with a bowed head. “Actually, the heater’s don’t work.”
“Alex! That’s not cool. My feet are freezing. That’s not remotely funny Alex.”
And then the first snow started to fall on the highway…

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Aways to go yet!

By Kate Flood
• 8:33pm • At home by the fire and candle light
State of Being: Kind of peeved. Having a rum-and-coke and listening to “Tea in the Sahara” by The Police…”


4 thoughts on “1/3 } Pilot’s Licence for a Porsche

  1. Tracey Windsor says:

    I am mesmerized with this Kate! After experiencing a very bad accident as well, I can totally relate to the way you were feeling in the hospital. Great job!

  2. Cory Maheral says:

    Damn it, that was suppose to read, its scary to THINK of what’s comming up next… Where the hell did rhino come from?

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