(34) A Major Turning Point

My heart beats like it’s never beaten before as the car pulls into a stream formed on the street, sending a miniature wave of rainwater splashing onto the curb as a light tapping pounds into my ears from the precipitation falling from overhead. As I turn my attention away from one single drop and peer out the window, the scenes outside of busy downtown New Canaan are nothing but blurred images.

“Daria, in case you didn’t realize, we’re here now.” My mother eyes me expectantly and pulls the automatic shift into park, as if she knows we are going to be here for a while. Then she pats my knee, “You’re going to do fine, just remember everything you’ve learned.”

I try to move my feet, but they don’t seem to want to budge. I listen to the quiet pattering for a moment and then let out a sigh. “I’ve never even driven in the rain,” I murmur, but I know I can’t sit here forever, and I will never know if I can pass this test if I don’t at least try. “I’m just going to tell myself that I don’t even care, it doesn’t even matter.” I mumble quietly.

“I guess I’ll just call you when I’m done then.” I slam the door and then walk to the entrance I’ve gotten to know so well, and then slowly stagger up the steep steps. Glancing above me I see a small line of other teenagers and I realize that these are going to be my companions for this dreaded hour and a half.

We receive our papers, are handed clipboards, and then have nothing to do but sit on the cold, metal chairs and wait. I glance around me at the room I have all ready spent thirty hours in; the large red stop sign on the wall, the white board with the other test dates scrawled in blue marker, and the messages and autographs of past participants of the school on all of the backs of the chairs in front of me. No one dares to speak. The only sound is the loud tick of the clock on the wall. I glance down at my clipboard and find the words, “DO NOT FAIL” in large bold letters that someone obviously scribbled on it to keep me feeling optimistic. I put it on the chair next to me and try not to look at it. I think about saying something to cheer everyone up, something funny and witty, but all I can do is breathe. I notice the guy in front of me hasn’t moved an inch since he sat down, and his hands are shaking.

“You guys are scaring me!” The lady that is supposed to watch us until the inspectors arrive glances around at our sullen expressions and laughs. “Here, take the channel changer and find some Jerry Springer to get all of this off your mind.” I watch her smile and hand the boy sitting on the front row the clicker, and with little enthusiasm he turns the television in the front on, and flips around to nothing in particular. This lady just doesn’t understand. How can she pretend that we shouldn’t be feeling any pressure, like this moment just shouldn’t matter. I guess teenagers are the only ones who can relate, who know that failing a driving test cuts into your self esteem when all of your friends who are younger than you are also counting on you and the days until you have your license. Finally after receiving no input from any of us, the kid settles for Queen Latifa.

As the Queen tries to determine if an ex-convict is the father . . . or grandfather of newborn triplets, I feel like a prisoner with an eternity to wait for my death sentence. The minutes spin by and finally we are all brought back to reality from our worlds of doom. Three people walk in laughing. I envy their cheerfulness and find it almost inconsiderate how they can be so joyful when they hold our future in their hands. They try to get a smile from us, but none of us relent. I can’t help but not trust these complete strangers. For the one that is going to be alone with me for fifteen minutes, one bad chili dog can be all it takes to dampen his spirits and result in my utter failure.

We are handed a test, and I circle each of my answers carefully. In only minutes I am finished, the eye-test taker in the front corrects it, tests my vision, and I am halfway there. She tells me I have gotten two wrong, and I panic, wondering if I failed or passed - not knowing how many we are allowed to get wrong. She shows me which ones I had mistakes on and I can’t even force myself to look at them carefully because I just want it to be all over. When she tells me to wait at my seat, a sigh of relief issues from my lungs.

“Daria Knight?” My head shoots up. I walk quickly to the front of the room and face the man that obviously is fated to be my tester. His hair is a pepper gray, his skin is darkly tanned, and he has the appearance and voice of kind of a tough man, one who knows mechanics and Harleys. “Daria, just take these keys and go to the tan car parked in the parking lot and make yourself comfortable.” He smiles some what warmly but as I reach for the keys I am not ready to make a friend. I vow to only smile back at him at the end if he tells me I have passed.

I trudge across the street and towards the only tan car in the parking lot. Unlocking the door I sit down and adjust all of my mirrors, seat, and steering wheel like I’ve been taught. I wait for what seems like another hour, adjusting my seat maybe twenty times and the mirrors maybe more and finally he opens the passenger door and sits down slowly. Since I am the lucky first person to finish the whole written test procedure, I have the pleasure of backing out of the parking space, definitely not one my strengths. I twist the key into the ignition, and feel the gentle purr of the engine. After the inspector turns on the windshield wipers for me, he says kindly, “Now just take your time backing out, there’s no rush.” I nod nervously and pull the automatic shift towards me to reverse and slowly pull out and then turn to the right.

As I pull out of the parking lot, I can feel my foot shaking gently on the pedal. Saying I am nervous is definitely an understatement. We embark on the famous driving test, stopping slowly at stop signs exactly in front of the line, keeping my hands gripped on the wheel in front of traffic lights, and going well under the suggested speed limit even though my weakness is speeding. After one successful back-in-parking job, we head back to the beginning of the test, the brick wall in the first parking lot. “Just pull to the side and park in front of the parking sign, please.” I follow his directions timidly and then put the car in park and have nothing to do but wait for the dreaded or joyous words.

After he continues jotting notes on his silver clipboard, I glance up and weakly smile. “Can you put the right signal on for me, please?” I pull the turn signal stick down. “Now, Daria, I heard that you have had some trouble distinguishing which is the right and left blinkers.”

I realize he is looking at me for a response. Flustered I try and explain what he’s heard. “Well, I had a little trouble in the beginning but I think I got past that now.” I can feel his eyes on me again and I smile weakly.

“Put the right blinker on for me please.” I realize my terrible mistake and shoot out my hand to pull the turn signal up. I look at the man next to me, filled with fear. My embarrassment must be evident on my face as I come to face the fact that I have failed my driving test all because I forgot which signal makes left and which causes right. I can’t help but be forward, I have to know. “Uhhh….I can’t believe I did that. Does this mean that I failed?” I look at him hopefully. I am not prepared for what is going to happen next.

The man looks at me seriously and then bursts out laughing. I look at him with amazement and I am deeply puzzled. Between chuckles he tells me happily, “I just couldn’t resist. Relax, you passed, I was just teasing you!” I can’t believe my ears! It’s over! It’s finally over! “I passed? Oh my gosh, thank you!” I want to leap out of the car I am so excited. He hands me some papers. “Remember though that driving is a huge responsibility, always be safe and smart.”

My face is beaming. I thank him again and dance out of the car, not able to stop smiling. As I head across the parking lot a tall woman with blonde hair in a trench coat and a green umbrella walks towards me. I guess my success is evident on my face because she stops me. “You passed your drive test no?” She has a heavy foreign accent and I smile back at her warmly.

“Yes,” I giggle, “I did!” With the paper clasped in my hand and my heart soaring nothing can bring me down from my cloud. As the rain continues to sprinkle on my head and face I think of all the possibilities, all of the experiences and moments that are now mine to have. I have just passed one of the only tests in my life that truly matter, and my life will never be the same!