• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 06

Where the lines used to be

“The lines have changed!!” Granny grumbles.

“Do you mean, like, the metaphorical lines of society? Or actual physical lines?”

“Meta-who?” She’s exasperated. I realise my misstep. Granny doesn’t have much patience for the rhetorical. “The lines on the fecking road! They’re not where they were before. They’ve changed them.”

“Oh. I see.”

I forgive myself for my error in judgment because, currently, I am utterly petrified. Granny shouldn’t be driving. Not since the time she drove through the front window of Susan’s Hair Salon. Thankfully, nobody was hurt besides a lot of glass, hairdressing equipment, and Granny’s ego. Soon after, she was deemed unfit to drive. Granny hasn’t driven since.

Until now.

But this is an emergency. Apparently. She needs to get somewhere fast. I don’t know how to drive, so it’s not like I could have offered. Though, now that I’m in the car and Granny is zig-zagging her merry way across the highway, I think I could have given it a fair shot. I don’t even know where we’re going. She didn’t tell me—just suddenly proclaimed there was an emergency and told me to get in the car. I could—should—have said no… but I couldn't have really. Even though I’m 35, Granny remains the scariest person I’ve ever met. It isn’t rush hour, at least. Still, it’s not as if the roads are completely empty. We’ve had a few near misses already.

“Say, here’s an idea,” I say, meekly. “Maybe you should drive within the lines that are currently there? I know the old lines were probably really good, but they probably put the new ones there for a good reason.”


Where the lines used to be

She shakes her head. “I know what I’m doing.”

An oncoming car swerves out of the way and we just about miss a head-on collision.

I nearly wet myself

“Trust your Granny!” she says. “I know the lines to follow.”

“Okay,” I squeak.

I decide that to get out of this car at least emotionally intact, even if I don’t physically, I will do what I do best: avoid reality. I lower my head to my knees and lay my hands on the back of it. I close my eyes. I’m more aware of every bump and sudden turn down here, but I don’t dare look back out the window.

Fortunately, Granny is singing the chorus of 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton. I join in. We sing it over and over and over again. A welcome distraction.

All of a sudden, a miracle occurs! The car is slowing down. We turn. We stop. I’m alive! I take a moment to collect myself. Now that I feel somewhat safe from certain doom, I’m curious about where we actually are.

I sit up. I look out the window. We’re back in Granny’s driveway. Where we began.

“But, what?” I splutter. “We’re here? What was the emergency?”

Granny shrugs. “Ah, I just needed to go for a spin. Being cooped up in that house was driving me demented!”