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I felt so proud driving my new car around. Gassing it up to 100 on the highway made me feel excited. Honking the horn at red lights made me laugh. I didn't give a drat about what the car cost me. Yeah, I had to sleep in bed with my dad for half a year to get the Nova. After mom died, Dad had no luck dating. We met a few of his first dates: friendly, cool women. After each date he'd return to the house and tell us about how he hosed up by admitting something negative about himself or by talking about how lonely he was. Dad wanted women that were way out of his league, even with his money, and we all knew it. Him included. He never paid much attention to my sister, I guess she was too fat for him. But me, he always liked me. Around the time I entered middle school he would grab my hips and pull me towards him, lining us up. "This is how you were born!" he'd say, making no sense. Date after date after date, and never a second meeting. He blew it with every nice woman in town. Every once in a while he'd go out with someone that liked him, but afterwards at home he'd tell us about all of her flaws and why it wouldn't work. Then, after my sister went to bed, he'd come into my room wearing a speedo and try to hug me. After awhile he became bold and declared his scheme: if I slept in bed with him every night for 6 months, he'd buy me a used Pontiac Nova. He didn't specify what year, but I had to think about it for a whole five minutes before I agreed. In the beginning I was pretty grossed out by all the chip crumbs in bed and such. Mom was in charge of getting Dad new underwear, and since her death he had never replenished the stash. Stains were rampant and undeniably wrong. Every night he would spoon me. Sometimes he'd pulse a bit, breathing hard, nibbling at my ear. Other times he'd fall asleep with a hand on my shoulder. Whatever it was, I counted the days until my car. I'd be free. Finally the day came. He had a couple friends down at the dealership, two brothers, and they showed us to a late-model Nova. Did I expect better? Yeah. Was I disappointed? Not really. I didn't say one word to either brother, but after a bunch of back-slapping and guffaws father and I were leaving the lot in separate vehicles. This was it. Later that night, as I was about to leave to pick up Megan for the first-ever ride, I could hear a noise coming from Dad's room. He was crying. Prying the door open, he noticed me. "You're never gonna sleep with me again, son." I looked at my watch and then stared at his back. He was sniffling like a baby. "Since mom's gone you don't need me any more." I didn't know what to do, but I had to get out of there to pick up Megan soon. "Why... why don't you come down to Jamingo's Pizzeria with us, dad? It'll be cool." He turned around, bottle of whiskey in hand, with a huge smile on his face. "Do ya mean it??" he asked. When I answered in the affirmative, he scooped up his waist size 44 pants and dashed over to me with a huge alcohol-laden hug. I got in the driver's seat while he took up most of the back of the car. After picking up Megan, who was definitely more than a little disappointed upon discovering the identity of my first passenger, we were making our way to Jamingo's at last. On Nutler street the lights shot up behind me and I knew I was being pulled over. Dad was farting and belching rapid-fire in the back seat. The policeman shined his light and saw dad's crack and immediately drew his pistol. It was all over. Years later, I think about what that car cost me. If I could get rid of the Nova and have my dad back, I'd do it in a second.
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Apr 5, 2014 02:43
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Nova - 712 words I felt so proud driving my new car around. Gassing it up to 100 on the highway made me feel excited. Honking the horn at red lights made me laugh. I didn’t give a drat about what that car cost me. Yeah, I had to sleep in bed with dad for half a year to get the Nova. After mom died, Dad had no luck dating. We met a few of his first dates: friendly, cool women. After each date he’d return to the house and tell us about how he hosed up by admitting something negative about himself or by talking about how lonely he was. Dad wanted women that were way out of his league, even with his money, and we all knew it. Him included. He never paid much attention to my sister, I guess she was too fat for him. But me, he always liked me. Around the time I entered middle school he would grab my hips and pull me towards him, lining us up. “This is how you were born!” he’d say, making no sense. Date after date after date, and never a second meeting. He blew it with every nice woman in town. Every once in a while he’d go out with someone that liked him, but afterwards at home he’d tell us about all of her flaws and why it wouldn’t work. Then, after my sister went to bed, he’d come into my room wearing a speedo and try to hug me. After awhile he became bold and declared his scheme: if I slept in bed with him every night for 6 months, he’d buy me a used Pontiac Nova. He didn’t specify what year, but I had to think about it for a whole five minutes before I agreed. In the beginning I was pretty grossed out by all the chip crumbs in bed and such. Mom was in charge of getting Dad new underwear, and since her death he had never replenished the stash. Stains were rampant and undeniably wrong. Every night he would spoon me. Sometimes he’d pulse a bit, breathing hard, nibbling at my ear. Other times he’d fall asleep with a hand on my shoulder. Whatever it was, I counted the days until my car. I’d be free. Finally the day came. He had a couple friends down at the dealership, two brothers, and they showed us to a late-model Nova. Did I expect better? Yeah. Was I disappointed? Not really. I didn’t say one word to either brother, but after a bunch of back-slapping and guffaws father and I were leaving the lot in separate vehicles. This was it. Later that night, as I was about to leave to pick up Megan for the first-ever ride, I could hear a noise coming from Dad’s room. He was crying. Prying the door open, he noticed me. “You’re never gonna sleep with me again, son.” I looked at my watch and then stared at his back. He was sniffling like a baby. “Since mom’s gone you don’t need me any more.” I didn’t know what to do, but I had to get out of there to pick up Megan soon. “Why… why don’t you come down to Jamingo’s Pizzeria with us, dad? It’ll be cool.” He turned around, bottle of whiskey in hand, with a huge smile on his face. “Do ya mean it??” he asked. When I answered in the affirmative, he scooped up his waist size 44 pants and dashed over to me with a huge alcohol-laden hug. I got in the driver’s seat while he took up most of the back of the car. After picking up Megan, who was definitely more than a little disappointed upon discovering the identity of my first passenger, we were making our way to Jamingo’s at last. On Nutler street the lights shot up behind me and I knew I was being pulled over. Dad was farting and belching rapid-fire in the back seat. The policeman shined his light and saw dad’s crack and immediately drew his pistol. It was all over. Years later, I think about what that car cost me. If I could get rid of the Nova and have my dad back, I’d do it in a second. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST) (USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)
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Jun 9, 2014 23:44
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