Driving Miss Emily (and Rod)
I am in a room with my father and my wife. My father looks down a hallway and tells us he sees his brother Rod approaching. Now, Dad is 95 and constantly talking about being ready to “go”. Rod has been “gone” for 25 years, so my wife and I exchange knowing glances.
But then we see it really is Rod. And we are now with Emily (his wife, my Auntie EM) who departed some15 years ago. She chastises Rod affectionately and tells him they should go out for a “special” meal. Knowing that neither one of them is capable of driving (for the obvious reasons) I volunteer to be their chauffeur. The Retirement home’s marketing director offers the use of the facility’s electric car and the Asian maintenance manager instructs me on how to operate it. There is no accelerator and there are no gears. The brake is a foot bar running across the floor. Easing up on it allows the vehicle to accelerate. Uncle Rod and Aunt Emily sit in the back and, after a few practice turns around a circular driveway, we hit the road in search of an Indian restaurant.
Looking in the rear view mirror, I can see cables that are connected to a very large battery that is where the trunk should be. From where I sit they seem to be emerging from the crown of Rod’s head. I find this very amusing and adjust the mirror so my aunt can appreciate the joke. EM says something to Rod and all three of us laugh.
It is night and there is a lot of glare. I am struggling to decipher the white arrows on the wet pavement. The arrows, indicating among other things, one-way directions, are jumbled and contradictory. I am finding it impossible to operate the car and follow the directions. We lurch and swerve erratically. I have a number of near misses with bicycles and large trucks.
My uncle and aunt are kind and complimentary about my driving, but I know they are also are getting impatient – and hungry. At first I think it odd that fear is not one of their emotions. Then, once again, I grasp their situation.