Riding in Cars with Boys — One Particular Boy
Parking at Inspiration Point or something like it
I met Hubby when I was very young. So young, in fact, that for the first two years of our relationship, I could only speak to him on the telephone or see him at special church events. My mother did not want me to be alone in a car with him. She is a very smart woman.
Hubby graduated from High School when I was only fourteen years old. He didn’t want to attend that ceremony, but I begged him to. It felt like a huge deal to me at 14 and I was certain he would regret it if he skipped it. Now, all these years later, I’m pretty sure he would not regret it, but his parents and I would have been real sad if we hadn’t had the chance to watch him walk across the stage set up on the football field that evening.
Because I was only 14 and couldn’t date, I had to beg my parents to allow me to go to the graduation. By this time, Hubby had been patiently talking on the phone with me for over a year. My mom laid down the ground rules.
“You can go to the graduation as long as you are NOT alone in the car.”
Hubby’s family was having a celebratory meal at their house before the ceremony. He asked his sister to come with him to pick me up. There was a thirty minute drive between my house and Hubby’s house. His car was an old Datsun 510 mini-station wagon that had been passed down to him by the family business. He still thinks fondly about this car. He kept the back seats flipped down so he could call it a two-seater.
Big Sister hurled questions, one after the other, at me for the entire thirty minute drive. This was the first time I had met all of Hubby’s family. When I imagine now what they must have been thinking about this little girl coming to their house, I get a little bit sick. At the time, I was just trying to remember what Daddy had told me about forks and knives and keeping my napkin in my lap. My family’s opinion of Hubby’s family was that they were in a higher class than we were. That opinion was a fact, though Hubby still likes to deny it.
Hubby had to be at the school early to line up and do all the things that High School graduates have to do when getting ready for the ceremony. So, there I was left at his house with his family whom I’d just met. His grandmother sat next to me on the couch and one of the first things she ever said to me was, “So, do you think Hubby will be a preacher?” Um, ha, ha. I don’t know. In my mind, I was thinking, “Please God No!” In case it hasn’t been clear, Hubby is indeed a preacher. Grandmothers know.
I rode to the school with his parents and sister. His best friend met us there and was going to be our chaperone on the drive back to my house that night. We attended the ceremony. I beamed. I couldn’t believe MY BOYFRIEND was graduating from High School! We walked out of the football stadium to the parking lot and everyone hugged Hubby and congratulated him. Best Friend said he would see us at “the house,” and was meeting us back at Hubby’s before they drove me back to my house.
Hubby and I were standing in the parking lot as we watched his parents get into a car. His sister hopped into a car. Best Friend drove off in another car. I don’t remember who else was there. But, the two of us stood stunned for just a minute. We looked at each other and started laughing. Hubby’s family didn’t know the rules that had been imposed. We were about to be ALONE IN A CAR together.
And, sure enough, that is the first time we ever went parking. I don’t want to assume everyone knows what this means. If you ever watched Happy Days, it should sound familiar to you. “Parking” is what teenagers do when they drive to a secluded spot, park the car, turn off the lights, and make out.
That spot where we went parking for the first time is on one of the busiest highways these days. At the time, it was next to a creek and an overpass and there wasn’t much traffic. Now, every time we go to a certain Target, I point it out to my kids and say, “That is the first place your dad ever took me parking!”
To this they usually reply,
“WE KNOW! YOU TELL US EVERY TIME WE PASS IT!”
My mother, if she is reading this blog, is going to learn a lot of things about me that she probably would prefer remained a mystery. It is funny to me that as I write, I still think about that. I am 49 years old and I still worry what Mom will think or feel about something I’ve shared. I’m not saying that is good. I’m not saying that it’s bad. It just is. Almost every time I write a story, I imagine her reading it. It is hard to imagine I would do the same if Dad was still living. Maybe I would, though. Or, maybe I just wouldn’t share stories about parking with Hubby if I thought my dad was reading it! I don’t know.
You may have noticed that I said that this was the first time Hubby took me parking. We were young. We lived thirty minutes from each other. We rarely saw each other for the first few years. We went parking A LOT.
We had this one particular place that became “our spot” that was between the mall/movie theater and my house. Once we were allowed to go on dates, we would pad the amount of time we told my parents so that we had a few minutes to truly be alone.
Just off the main highway on the way to my house, there was “the cement place.” We called it that because there were always cement mixing trucks parked there too. We still don’t know exactly what kind of business it was. It was likely a concrete plant. It had a hidden drive that went up a hill. All of it was gravel. At night there was no one there. Hubby would drive us up the road, park, and we would do what teenagers do in parked cars late at night. We must have gone up there ten or twelve times. Like I said, it was “our place.” It wasn’t Inspiration Point where all the teenagers were going. It was just us.
One night after we had been to see a movie — the usual weekend date that we went on — Hubby was driving up the gravel road and I thought I saw something I had not seen before.
“Was that a sign? I think that was a No Trespassing sign. I haven’t noticed that before.”
A little bit later, after we had steamed up the windows if you know what I mean, I saw some funny lights. Pretty quickly we realized it was the light of a police car and that spot-light they use to see what they are looking for was shining right in our faces.
I’m a fraidy cat. That is a given. But, I’ve never been more scared than I was that night. They made Hubby get out of the car — shining flashlights in our faces just like on the movies. One officer took him off to where I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. The other officer shined a flashlight in my face and asked me questions,
“Who is this boy?”
“Did he make you come up here with him?”
“Does your Daddy know where you are?”
I had to repeat two or three times that I had come willingly and was there because he was my boyfriend and I wanted to be with him. Of course, they looked at Hubby’s license and this happened to be a night when Hubby was driving the car that my father had bought for me even though I couldn’t drive it yet.
I’m just realizing how ridiculous this all makes us sound, but it is the ugly (or pretty) truth. At fifteen, my daddy bought me a fire red Pontiac Fiero. A two-seater sports car. I loved it! So, sometimes Hubby would drive me around in it since I didn’t have my license yet.
So, on this particular night, we were in my car. To be more precise would be to say that we were in MY DADDY’S CAR. I had to show all the paperwork and try to explain what I just explained to you.
“I asked him to drive it. I can’t drive yet. Yes, my father knows we have the car. No, he didn’t steal it. No, he hasn’t made me do anything. I only do what I want to do!”
The officer that was working very hard at scaring me to death warned me that he could call my daddy. I begged him not to. I still couldn’t tell what they were doing with Hubby. I thought they were going to arrest him.
Finally, after scaring us real good, they let us go while telling us to never come up there again. They didn’t have to tell us. We were never going up there again!
Two days later a sheriff came to my house, two of them. I saw them drive into the driveway as I looked out from the curtains of my bedroom window. My stomach sunk to my knees. “Oh my God! They are here to tell my Daddy!”
My parents went to the door. I lurked around the corner listening. I was certain this would be the last thing I ever heard on this earth. When the officer began explaining how a prisoner had escaped from the prison that was just a few miles down the road and they were going to door to door to inform folks, I’ve never felt so much relief! I was giddy with excitement.
My mother was terrified, of course. My father, soon thereafter, took me out back and taught me to shoot a shotgun — just in case. All the while, I was on cloud 9 because the police had not informed my parents that I had been parking with my boyfriend. We never went parking again. But, we’ve made out a lot since then!
