Driving At A Tender Age

I was fifteen years old and I was driving, can you believe that? Yes, my mother taught my brother and I how to drive and as long as we followed the rules about when we could drive, and if we behaved, then it was all right. My problem though was that I took too many chances.In our house my mother was the person who would discipline my brother and I, even though I’m the one they had to watch out for. Poor big brother, it was up to him to see that I stayed out of harms way and out of trouble. It worked all right as long as he was watching, but I was a hand full for anybody.Just to give you an example, when I was close to twelve years old I had to be in the hospital for eight months. When I was given the TB shot it came out positive and they said I had tuberculosis. Well, to make that story short, I was placed in the hospital with the adults. I guess they didn’t trust me in the children’s ward. I was the only child in the entire hospital that was in the men’s ward, can you imagine that!One day when I came back from the hospital’s school for students in grade school through high school, they told me to go get a tray of food and eat. It was very important to eat all your meals because the medication would work better, or so I was told. However, when I entered the kitchen they explained to me in detail how they had run out of the food I had ordered in the morning.It was tipical of patients to fill out a food list of preferred meals for the day. They wanted to make sure the patients had a little to say about it so that most of the food would be consumed and not gone to waste. It was cafeteria food, and so they told me to get something else since somebody else must’ve changed their minds and taken my portions. Well, I didn’t like that something else so I walked out.About five minutes later the head nurse called me back and said that the hospital was not a home, and that I better eat what they had. We argued for a while and when she mentioned my home again, I said, “My mother makes me what I want and she a better cook than these cooks!” It wasn’t like that home, I just said it from the top of my head.That head nurse got angry at my remarks knowing that she wasn’t getting through to me and said, “Well then you should be eating at you house instead!”I quickly responded, “Then I will!” I really had no intentions of continuing that conversation, but she pushed it. My anger took a hold of my emotions and I acted on inpluses and of course my stubborness. I really had no notions of going home for a meal, but her attituded and mind just clashed.Soon as no one was watching I exited the back door as I disconnected the alarm and the red exit light. I also told my adult mates not to say anything about my whereabouts. I really didn’t think that they would honor my words, but they did. I was just a twelve year old lad with a wicked brain, but I guess I had made my mark in the way I conducted myself around them. I really respected them and they knew it, it was just when somebody tried to pull my strings that I reacted.I walked about three miles until I got home. I didn’t take the scenic route so that they wouldn’t see me. I knew the neighborhoods well, I had walked them many times before delivering want adds and I knew what places to stay away from. Walking by the Colorado River was like walking in my backyard and the bushes and trees kept me well hided. There were many fishing trails and I knew them by heart.When they checked my room in the hospital they paniced. My room buddies told me they went wild. They looked everywhere and even the hospital security officers didn’t know how I had done it. They quickly sent some staff members and security officers to my mother’s home not realizing where I was headed too. They wanted to explain what had happened. I was fast on my feet and they thought I had gone else where. My presence was not visible on the roads, so they thought the worst had gone wrong.I heard the knock on the door of the government apartments my parents were living at. My mommy opened the door wide open so as to sent a message to them of their incompetence. They were surprised to see me at the dinner table eating a meal my mother had just cooked for me. I had already told her my views of the situation. She didn’t scold me, she didn’t even pull out that sweet old belt with my ass name on it. What happened after that is another story, let me just finish this one first.When my brother and I were much younger we hung out for just a while until I got to be around thirteen years old and by then I was a nuisance. He wanted to be with his older friends and so we didn’t hang out as much anymore. My older brother didn’t seem like he got into too much trouble, but as for me, I never seemed to get out of it. My ass resembled a caliche road and he’s resembled a well paved highway.My mother had bought a four inch wide leather belt from Mexico, and it had my name written all over it. My behind had all the markings to prove it. It wasn’t that I was a bad kid, I just seemed to very stubborn. They would tell me to do it now, I did it later. They would show me how to do it, and I would do it my way. They would warn me that if I did it again the spanking would be repeated and guess what? I would do it again.Heck, you could say that I always went all out go for it. They would tell me to stop talking back at them, and I talked more. The best word they had for me was that I was very “Mulo.” In my heritage and language it means a stubborn ass of a mule. You know, I was just a pain in the bud. So this is how I had my name written on that belt.Now don’t get me wrong, my mother could swing that belt with the best of them. I guest I just had enough cushion on my behind to take so much. I did have some good moments, but they were far and in between. I would have to say that I deserved about ninety percent of those whoopings. Okay, one hundred percent, I was just trying to look good in my version of this story.My mother told us that if we got in trouble we would also loose our previlages. Well, I often lost most of them, but I was a sweet talking boy if you ask me. After I got spanked I would make them feel sorry for me and then I would use my good old charm. One big hug and some kisses on my mother’s cheeks and she would say, “Okay Oscar, now do it again and see what you get?” The real words in Spanish were, “Aslo otra ves cabron, y te vuelo a dar otra chingisa !” I guess I had a short memory or something like that because it seemed like I had reservations with that belt.My father didn’t drive and my mother always needed help because we would go sell sodas, candy, snow cones, and other things to the braseros. These were people that the United States would bring from Mexico with permission to work in the farm fields in this country. It was legal and so we would go out and sell them these goodies. So it was convenient for my mother to teach my brother and I how to drive. My brother didn’t go out there very much, but since I was in constant trouble I had to kiss ass, to put it in mild tones.Now you understand how I was allowed to drive so much. Now wait just a little here, there’s more here than meets the eye to this story. This is the driving part I wanted to talk about. In order to have an understanding of how I did things and about that statement I wrote at the begining of story about taking too many risk. Well, with your patience in mind, here comes the story.I always had the appearence of a much older young lad. I did have a driving record for driving without a drivers licence, and for other traffic violations. I used to tell my girlfriend whom I used to drive to see in another town that I was paying for the police officers salaries with the number of tickets I had to pay. The three cities around us had my name on their records and they knew of the car I was driving.I didn’t get my driving license until I was married. Six months into our marriage and at the tender age of 21 I took my driving test. I didn’t volunteer to go do it. My wife took me by the ears and gave me the ultimatum, “Do it now,or I’ll kick that caliche ass of yours!” Well, I do have a driving licence! Do you believe me if I said I was slightly stubborn.When I did my driving I took many chances because I knew that if I got caught again my parent’s would sooner or a later find out. I used to walk into the courtroom by myself and sit on the benches and listen to the others that were there to see the judge too. When half of them stepped out, so did I. When they went to pay for the tickets, so did I. Never did I talk to a judge.I just lined up behind them and told them that the judge told me just to pay for the ticket. The lady behind the glass window would walk back into the courtroom and tell the judge that he forgot to sign mine. I told the secretary that I wasn’t going to bother the judge again and make him mad because he made a mistake, so she would just do it.Hey, it worked all the times and I got away with it. Just because I had walked out of the courtroom they were under the impression that this cute innocent boy was telling the truth. When they questioned my age, I simply said my parents were still in there because the judge did not want me to listen to what was going to happen. I would also respond with, “Do you think the judge is stupit enough to let me walk out of there without getting after me?” Heck, she bought too, I must’ve had that cute look and smile, but it workedOne time a lady told my mother that she had seen my name on the newspaper on the place where they write who paid tickets. I cooly responded, “Mom, you know a judge would call the parent of a minor to be there with him. Would I be allowed to be in there without legal represention, I’m just a kid.?” Notice that I never admitted to guilt or not, I simply turned the statement into a question and she bought it.I remember when the police were chasing me for a traffic violation and I was on the expressway. There was no way for me to get stopped because my violations were obvious enough to have them check through their cb radios. I was desperate to get away or I would be grounded for life.I had enough leadway to try my tricks. I was over three overpasses ahead of them when I made my move. Since it was night time and we had our lights on I figured that every time we went over the overpass and down again they would loose sight of my car. Once I hit the top of the overpass, I was very visible. So as soon as I was coming down I shut the lights off and exited the express way.Since I was three overpasses ahead I had time to pull it off. Once on frontage road and off the exit ramp, I would brake and hit the shift on reverse. When the car was in motion I made sure I did not turn the brake lights on again because they would see them. I would let the car slowly back off onto the side of the overpass.If the police were to get off and notice I was no longer on the expressway, he would look for me in front of him, not behind him. With the lights off, and no traffic that late at night to give me away, I was able to get away with it a number of times.

I never tried it with the highway patrol, their cars were fast and they didn’t care for my antics.
Soon as their speeding cars were a safe distance away I would quiety make a turn on the side roads and drive away. I know it was dumb, stupit, careless, brainless, risky and breath taking and I would never recommend it to anyone. Trust me I’ve learn my lessons. I don’t tell this story to kids, don’t want them to get ideas. It is a no, no, please understand and don’t let these stories out. We have enough problems with kids and adults drinking and driving, and drugs. I just wanted to record my childhood days, nothing more.
I haven’t had a ticket given to me in my adult days. My record is clean and I get discounts for safe driving. I drive as slow as a turtle and as fast as a speeding snail, so don’t worry about me. Chances are I’ll get a ticket for slow driving now a days. LOL !

Journal Comments