Song of a Sophomore

CHAPTER 38 - Spiderwebs

In the first row of the parking lot, directly in front of the main doors, sat a fully-restored 1967 Pontiac Firebird painted a decadent candy apple red with a giant red velvet bow tied to the hood. Next to the beautiful, sparkling car, stood my dad. He smiled proudly with his hands on his hips and his feet wide apart in a business suit, taking questions from the crowd. I threw my hands up to my face in complete surprise, not sure whether I should retreat or run towards him.

"There she is!" someone yelled and pushed me toward the front of the crowd.

"For me? The Firebird?" I reached out for my Dad and everyone cheered. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. He kissed me on the forehead and, in a ceremonial display, bowed and handed me the keys to the car.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he said.

"Dad! I can't believe this! All this time? You were going to give the Firebird to me?" I jumped up and down, wiping away the tears.

Dad nodded, with the goofiest grin on his middle-aged face. He opened the driver's side door for me and I climbed in. I gripped the steering wheel, noting all the details. The polished metal of the dashboard, the shine of the vinyl seats, the sparkling glass and mirrors, and the glistening new paint job. Dad poured his heart and soul into restoring this car.

And, he did it for me.

"Dad, I am so honored. Thank you." My chin quivered as I held back the tears.

"You earned it," he said with serious eyes and a pointed finger as he pulled the big bow off the hood. "With great honor, comes great responsibility. I expect you to always drive safely. No speeding. No joy riding. No drinking and driving. And, this backseat is just for riding in."

"Dad! Oh, my gosh." I buried my face in my hand and laughed as Dad came around the front of the car and into the passenger seat.

"And, there is one more thing." He reached into his pocket and produced a black plastic object from his pocket. "A pager. Keep this on you at all times. It will buzz when we page you with the house phone number. Stop wherever you are, find a payphone, and call us back."

"Wow! A pager? Are you serious? This is so cool!" I gave him another hug.

"It was your mom's idea, so make sure to thank her, too," he said.

"I will." I fired her up and revved the engine. The crowd cheered. "Let's burn rubber!"

A crease appeared in Dad's forehead and his eyes popped open wide.

"Just kidding, Dad. I'll be good." I beamed my brightest smile and slowly gave her some gas. Dad waved goodbye to the onlookers. We purred out of the parking lot and onto the main thoroughfare.

It was a quintessential May afternoon, mid-70s and breezy with plenty of sunshine. Dad and I drove home with the top down and the wind whipping through our hair. The air smelled sweet like blossoms and fresh cut grass. I glanced up at the puffy white clouds against the sapphire sky and felt like I was in heaven, just drifting through time and space without a care in the world.

"Keep your eyes on the road," Dad said.

"Yes, sir."

I pulled the car softly into the driveway of our townhouse and put her in park. Dad climbed out of the car and gazed down at me. His brown eyes brimmed with emotion and words left unsaid.