The Street Called Life

Oct 09, 2008 - 10:51 AM PST

I wrote this for my creative writing class. It is NONFICTION. Any relationship to anyone is sheer coincidence.
The first time I met them it was on a rainy and unseasonably cold December night. I had just moved to Miami, Florida. I used to live in Detroit, but after my mom died of cancer, I had to get out of town. So, I indefinitely moved in with some of my girlfriends from college. After a day at work, I went to the coffee shop on the corner to warm up and relax. They were sitting at a booth in the back corner, hovered over foam coffee cups and the latest edition of some tuner magazine. I order my medium Vanilla Chai latte and sit down at a stained and rocking table, that is 10 feet away from the group.
There were four of them. The leader, a tall, blonde with blue-green eyes, sits next to the only girl in the group; a petite brunette cautiously sips her coffee as she listens to the normal male talk of the evening. During my eavesdropping, I discovered that they were talking about turbos, cold air intakes, and other random car add-ons. I reach into my big red paisley Vera Bradley tote bag and extract the newest addition to Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Series. I settle down as comfortably as I can, and pretend to read my book. I continue listening to their conversation.
The comments of the new parts and additions each person continually mentioned adding to each person’s car started to intrigue me. The more I listened to the conversation as to how the new parts would drastically improve their wheel horsepower and their chance of beating the thousand horsepower Toyota Supra, which is the envy of the racing world.
After listening to their topics of the evening, I learn that they were members of a team of “gearheads,” or people that are utterly dedicated to their cars. They stand up to leave and, as the tall blonde walks by me, he looks at me and asks, “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”
Caught by surprise, I feel my cheeks flush with red, “Um,” I stutter and close my book and put it in my bag, “I don’t know. I work at Blockbuster down off of First.”
“Oh yeah. I know who you are. The name’s Carter.”
“Hi. My name’s Jade. I don’t mean to prod, but what’s all this about cars?”
He chuckles, “Yeah. Cars are kind of our lives. We race them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we raced on the streets though. Don’t tell the cops.” He snickers and flashes this beautiful smile. “This is my crew. Jade, meet Samantha, or Sam; Cash; and Trevor.” They stand behind Carter, and nod as their names are called.
After a few moments of awkward silence, the girl smiles and moves to the front of group. She flips her brunette hair out of her face, “Hey, we are about to go to a car meet. You interested in coming? The boys won’t bite.” At this point, I notice her jeans she’s wearing have sketches and doodles all over the legs: different faces, symbols, and quotes. The hoodie she is wearing is a bright purple ECU hoodie.
“…Hard,” quietly snickers a dark brunette from behind Carter. He moves to the side of his leader. “Trevor. Proud owner of the metallic blue 300zx out front.” He extends his right hand and we shake hands. He has a firm handshake, I noticed. Trevor stood a few inches taller than me. He wore a navy blue Element t-shirt, blue jeans, and Vans.
Cash, who had black hair and jet black eyes and is wearing a black faded band t-shirt and black jeans, steps forward, obviously irked. “Hey guys, are we going to go or just stand here all day?”
“We’re getting there. You game?” Sam asks me.
I look at my watch. It’s only quarter till eleven. It’s a Friday night and I don’t have anything better to do and I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow.
“Yeah, I’m game. Do you guys mind if I drive?”
Carter looks at me and cocks his head slightly as we head outside, “Certainly. What do you drive?”
What does it matter what I drive? I think to myself. “Um…a 2007 350z.”
Sam skips over beside me and puts her arm around my waist. “Nice. You’ll fit right in. I drive the black Nissan Silvia parked next to Carter’s Skyline GTR.” She twirls her key ring around her left ring finger and stops at her key fob. I notice a black car’s tail lights flicker. Next to it, three other car’s lights go off. Underneath the glow of the streetlights, I notice that these cars are not just stock cars, but they are equipped with aftermarket parts and have a hint of a complementary color.
Cash, who drives a white 240sx, walks over to his car, which is parked between a black, almost blue, Skyline and a blue 300zx, and leans on it. “I’m running stock. Turboed of course. Can I see what’s under your hood?”
Carter walks by him, to head to his car. As he passes by, he pops him in the stomach. “Be nice to the new girl. Hey, Jade, do you think that can keep up?”
I chuckle, “I’ll try.” This is nuts. I dig into my tote and search for my key ring in the deep dark abyss. I extract the ring and pop my truck to store my bag in there. I open my driver’s door and as I sit down, I hear Trevor shout at me. “We’re heading up to South Hill Mall. Fourth floor of the parking deck. Tell the guard that you’re with the Phoenix.” I turn on my car and ask myself what the hell I got myself into. I flip on my iPod and turn it on shuffle. As the music soaks through my car speakers, I press the clutch in, shift into reverse. What should I expect? I back out of my parking spot.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to first.
I drive out of the parking lot and onto the Highway 29.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to second.
I notice the four cars in front of me are weaving in and out of traffic.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to third.
I speed up quickly.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to fourth.
I start to catch up with the white 240sx. Cash is what they call the tail. He’s the lucky one. He can drift off of the others, which helps out his gas mileage.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to fifth.
Clutch. Accelerate. Shift to sixth.
I pass by him in sixth gear. He revs his engine smiling. He looks over at me and mouths, “Good job.”
I notice Sam’s Silvia beginning to down shift. I follow her lead. Her blinker goes on and she turns right into a parking deck. A guy in a black torn up Honda hoodie stands next to a gate box. He bends down as Sam rolls down her window. The guy nods and smiles and presses the box that raises the bar gate. I drive forward, turn down the music, and roll my driver’s side window down. I notice the guy’s cheap cologne penetrate my nasal cavities. This was enough to make me sick to my stomach.
“Newbie, eh? Welcome. You with the Nissan crew? Watch out for the Cobras tonight. They’re skittish,” he informs me, in a deep voice, hinted with a smoker’s wheeze.
You have got to be kidding me. This is unreal, I think to myself. This sounds like something from those dumb ricer movies my little brother watches. They’re different teams, a bouncer allowing people in. I turn my music up and circle around the parking deck to the fourth floor. As I pull around, I notice colors and people. Cars fill the fourth floor parking deck. People waltz around these cars, discussing stats and the latest upgrades and modifications for their cars. A group of people is gathered around seven cars, all with cobra decals on the hoods. Wow, definitely not in Kansas anymore.
I see the Phoenixes lined up. Sam steps out of her car. A tight fitted t-shirt has replaced the hoodie. She jumps up and down and waves me over to an empty parking spot next to her. I park in the vacant spot and turn my car off. I flip my visor down and check my hair and make-up. I pull my wavy, long brunette hair out of its messy bun. It falls around my face as I touch up my foundation and eyeliner. I turn to get out of my car and jump. Carter was standing at my window, with his eyes crossed and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. After a few seconds, he realizes that I saw him and I am laughing at him. He reaches down and opens up my car door for me. I notice now how blue his eyes are. His sky blue t-shirt fit perfectly around his biceps as they tensed up. He reaches his hand out to assist me out of my car. I take his hand and step out on to concrete. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You’re hair looks amazing, by the way, and great driving. You surprised me, honestly”
I smile. God, I probably look really stupid right now. I glance around. Trevor and Cash are talking to different guys. Sam is talking to a skinny red head girl that drives a silver Scion tC. Carter puts his arm around my shoulder. Wow, he is tall. He’s got to be about six feet tall. “Alright, since the roads are wet, no races tonight. All talk.” I nod, faking my understanding. As we wander around looking at cars, I notice some of the people from my work. I say hi and continue to walk around. Cash and Carter call me over to where they were standing. As I walk over to the two boys, I notice that they are standing next to a Honda Civic Si. “Jade, check this out!” I hear Cash say. Another guy walks over to us. “Jade, this Tuan. Tuan meet Jade.” Tuan, a muscular Oriental, extends his hand to me. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a deep voice. I notice a tattoo of a cross on his left bicep. I nod in recognition.
Carter walks over to me and asks me if I know why they have their cars. I shake my head. I bought my car cause I thought it was cute and it gets me to work.
“Jade, for some, these cars are their art work. They are their Mona Lisa’s, like Garrett there,” he waves to an African American guy standing next to a green car with a blue dragon painted on the sides and the hood. “For others, like myself, once I get behind my steering wheel. The chaos of the world drones down to a hum. Sam, her mom is very controlling. For her, it’s freedom. For Trevor and Cash, it’s for the respect. But whatever your reason, this is our escape from our reality. This is where we can be ourselves, where we are accepted. When I’m driving, it’s just the road and me. My car becomes part of me. I think more clearly and the world slowly starts to make sense to me. You see, life is like a road. You have the turns and curves of life and then you have the easy straight shots that you seem to just speed through. Now, as I look at it, you can take the road head on, or fall to the side. You get in an accident, you can mope and swim in self pity or pick yourself up and continue your journey.” I glance at him.
“I think I understand.”
I look down at my watch. Damn, it’s already 2:30 am. “I should be heading home.”
Carter nods as we walk back to my car. Sam, Trevor, and Cash walk over to my car as well. The four of them say their farewells and invite me to come out again. I unlock my car and tell them I had fun and that I would love to hang out again. As I drive through the parking deck, I leave this surreal life that I have seen about in those dumb racing movies. I notice the line that separates this “escape” from reality as soon as I exit the parking deck and turn out to Highway 29. I drive into the night, back to reality and continue this road called life.