Driving Backwards In A Lightning Storm

I live in a small lake community where golf carts are a prevalent and even preferred source of transportation. Of course my family has to be all fancy like that, so we have a bright turquoise golf cart of our own (named Dimples, by the way). 

The thing about Dimples is that she doesn’t like to drive when it is wet outside. Sometimes the old girl will hit a puddle and that’s it. 

She starts slowing down, bit by bit. Fifteen miles an hour to fourteen…to thirteen…to ten…to five…to zero. And then? Dimples won’t budge in the forward direction until she has thoroughly dried herself off.

This  can be very annoying when Dimples decides to do this in the middle of the road and cars need to get by. But the worst thing of all is when Dimples decides to halt all forward progress at 10:30 PM…in the middle of a lightning storm. 

Believe me. I know. 

Now, there is a catch in the way Dimples works. Usually, when she hits a puddle and refuses to go forwards, she is still willing to go backwards. 

Believe me. I know this too. 

It all happened one night when I needed to get to a place about three minutes away from my house. Easy, right? Not even a mile of driving. 

Well, the road was slick and wet. Puddles stood out in low road spots, and as I started driving I saw flashes of lightning in the sky above.

No rain. No thunder. Just silence. And then the sky would light up with a jolt of electricity. I wasn't able to see a thing except for the road directly ahead. And then suddenly the world around me was as bright as day. 

Apparently the whole atmosphere made Dimples a little nervous.  

Here I was, driving along a main road when Dimples decided to hit a puddle. Then she hesitated and balked and slowed until…there we were, stopped on a main road in the dark while bright flashes lit up the sky around us. There we were, stock-still, only a minute from our destination. 

Stubborn old Dimples. 

Only one thing was left to do.

 I got out from behind the wheel, and pushed Dimples to the very edge of the road. It was hard work, seeing as she is a heavy old thing and meant for six people to ride…not for one to push. 

I hoped that no cars would pass by us, not so much because I was afraid they would hit us; it was more because a worried passer-by might injure my pride. 

They might roll their window down and stick their head out in my direction. 

“Are you okay?” they might ask concernedly, “Do you need any help?”

And there I would stand, a ruffled and slightly-damp teenage girl in the pitch darkness with a halted golf cart. 

“No,” I might grunt as I tried to move the heavy thing, flashes of light illuminating me in the darkness, “No, I’m good. I don’t need any help.”

For some reason, I have a hard time believing that this would be very reassuring to the compassionate person, who might then arch their eyebrow and drive away, shaking their head at my stupidity. 

Therefore, I am glad that nobody passed me while I was moving that golf cart. 

It would have annoyed me very much (just as it annoyed me when a passer-by inquired into my welfare after finding me walking down the road with a guitar and a backpack, much like a hobo). But that is a story for another time. 

Anyway, I managed to get the golf cart to the edge of the road, and then I jumped back into the driver’s seat. 

Now if only Dimples will be consistent in her inconsistency and still decide to go backwards… 

 I switched the transmission to reverse, and pressed my foot on the accelerator. 

Dimples began to move backwards. It worked! I almost let out a squeal of delight. 

 The faithful turquoise golf cart and I arrived at our destination safely, and then a few minutes later began the arduous journey back home. 

The road was slick and wet. The lightning blinded my eyes and lit up an eerie, disfigured world. Dimples swerved, lost traction, swerved again. Sure, there were the bright and comforting golf cart headlights…only they were pointed in the completely wrong direction. 

I cranked my head over my shoulder to peer at the road behind us (oh, I mean in front of us), and could just barely make out the yellow lines gleaming in the dark pavement. 

For a moment, I felt that perhaps I was the only living being in a world of endlessly alternating darkness and light. 

The experience was very, well, illuminating. 

At my house, I parked Dimples (backwards, of course) and wandered into a bright world where my sisters were squealing and chattering just like always: pulling on soft pajamas, brushing yellow teeth, getting into cozy beds, pulling up heavy covers. 

Then the house was silent and dark. A nighttime peace crept over us…only shattered momentarily by flashes of radiant, brilliant lightning. 

A bright and silent night. 

And that is the story of how I came to be driving backwards at night in a lightning storm. 

-- Karis Anne