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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Camp Lore - 11. Chapter 11

The other thing none of the other waiters realized is Brian had a car. When he said he’d been driving all over the place to stay with friends, he hadn’t mentioned that the car came with him to camp.

We discovered that after breakfast on Sunday, when Brian pulled on a ripped T-shirt and dirty shorts and got out his tools.

“What are those for?” Greg asked.

“Sanding, mainly. A little fill-in. Some fiberglass.”

“On what?”

“My car.”

We waited for him to explain.

“Sorry. I thought you’d seen it.”

It was parked behind the bunk, on the opposite side from the basketball court. We looked at it first through the screen windows but were all soon outside.

It was about twenty years old, a convertible VW bug, primer grey, with the roof and back seat gone.

“It’s one of the newer ones,” Brian half-apologized. “Not a classic, like the early batch. But it’s better rigged.”

“How?” Dan asked.

“More dependable engine. More reliable wiring – the old system was a joke.”

“I saw it but thought it was one of the drama counselors’.” Paul said.

Their cabin was right behind ours.

“Nope. Mine.”

“Nice,” Jim said.

“Hardly.” Brian laughed. “But it will be. Someday.”

“How’s it run?” Steve asked.

“Pretty good. For a Volkswagen.”

“Meaning?”

“It shakes like a roller coaster at sixty-five.”

We all laughed.

“But you won’t be stingy with it now?” Steve went on.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll let us take it for rides.”

Brian needed to think about that.

“Well, I’ll drive you wherever you want. But I gotta go, too. That’s the way it’s insured.”

We understood.

“Sounds fair.”

“That’s terrific.”

Brian grinned. “Good. ‘Cause I was afraid you’d think I was being a jerk.”

“Hey, we know how much insurance costs,” Jim admitted “It’ll kill you.”

“It’s the reason I don’t have a car,” I said. “Not that I could drive that one.”

“Why?” Brian asked.

“Stick.”

I was afraid everyone would laugh. But no one did. Brian just grinned.

“We can fix that.”

He looked around.

“Though I’ve got a feeling I’ll be running a driving school.”

And everybody grinned.

“This is just cool,” Paul said. “This is gonna be the best summer ever.”

Except when my turn to learn came, it wasn’t as easy as I thought. The other guys seemed to pick it up pretty quickly, some faster than others, and some needed repeated practice. But they were all soon driving up and down the camp road. One of them would sit in the driver’s seat, and Brian would sit beside him. If one or two of the other guys came along, they kneeled or crouched in what should have been the back seat.

My lesson was after dinner,. Some of the guys were shooting hoops, and others were playing cards. Brian was kind of dancing to music only he could hear and seemed to have more energy than he could control. Finally, he said, “Come on. Let’s go for a ride.”

“It’s almost time for Rec,” Nate told him.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes.”

“Linden’s not gonna like us driving on the camp road, with all the kids walking.”

“We’ll go in the other direction.”

“Toward the girls’ camp?”

“Yeah. We won’t go far.”

“We’ll get in more trouble that way. You know there’s an invisible line at the camp border. Cross it, and Linden appears.”

Brian shook his head.

“The first week I was here, I drove all over the place. I went everywhere, and Linden didn’t care. He doesn’t even know my name.”

“That was before camp opened. It’s different now.”

Brian looked at me.

“Whose side of the bet do you want?”

I wanted to learn stick but also didn’t want to piss off Nate.

“If I don’t go, there’s no bet,” I pointed out.

“No... no... I’m in,” Nate said. “I’m being a fool – but what the hell?”

“Great,” Brian said. “Though now, we have twelve minutes.”

“He’ll have ten left over,” Nate predicted.

Nate was wrong. Most things, I learn pretty quickly. But some have to creep up on me – slowly set in. Brian talked me through the process patiently, as I’d watched him do with some of the other guys. But something didn’t take.

He was sure I’d simply drive away, cleanly. But the first half dozen times, I immediately stalled. Nate quickly lost patience and began offering semi-useless suggestions. Brian ignored them and offered encouragement.

“Slower,” he said. “Keep your heel off the floor. Your foot needs to plunge, not hinge.”

I tried again. Concentrating. And stalled again.

“Plunge,” Nate coaxed quietly.

“Let’s do this tomorrow,” I said.

“Good idea,” said Nate.

“Nah,” Brian contradicted. “We still have five minutes.”

And he reached across me and turned on the headlights.

Of the next six tries, I stalled all six. But by maybe the eighteenth, I’d lurched all the way to the main road – maybe a hundred feet – and had turned in the direction of the girls’ camp.

“We gotta go back,” Nate insisted. He turned to Brian. “And one of us needs to drive.”

I started to open the door.

“One more shot,” Brian said. “Uno.”

And I closed it.

“No. No. No!” Nate warned. “That’s Linden’s Jeep coming down the road.”

True, there were headlights ahead. But I didn’t know how Nate knew they were Linden’s. I gunned the engine and promptly stalled. Brian sat laughing. Nate wasn’t pleased.

“Evening, boys,” Linden was saying before I knew it. He’d left his Jeep and was standing on Brian’s side of our car.

Brian and I greeted him politely. Nate was suddenly gone.

“Little late for a drive,” Linden went on.

“I was just teaching Rob to shift,” Brian explained. “We were heading back when he stalled.”

“Again,” I put in. “Seems I learn things slowly.”

I tried not to sound pathetic and pointed out the position of the car on the road. Fortunately, it was turned towards the boys’ camp.

“I supposed I could believe that,” Linden said.

“It’s true,’ Brian assured him.

“But truth’s a funny thing,” Linden went on. “For example, right now, I seem to be talking with two of you. But I’ve got the strangest feeling we’re not alone.”

He walked a little further along Brian’s side.

“Why, Nate. Did you lose something?” he asked.

“Yes – my brain,” Nate answered, straightening up. “And it’s sure not around here.”

“Then maybe you should park the car,” Linden said, once again to Brian, “and quickly walk down to Rec. You can see the girls later. In the Canteen.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” I said.

“I’d let someone else drive,” Linden suggested. And he disappeared towards his Jeep.

“I told you we wouldn’t get in trouble,” Brian told Nate, as he replaced me in the driver’s seat. “Why’d you even think that?”

“Because I’ve got experience,” Nate said. And he laughed. “Believe me – we got lucky.”

Brian accepted that and drove us smoothly to the bunk. He seemed to do it without thinking.

“What do you want to do about the bet?” he finally asked.

Nate seemed to consider.

“Well, since there was nothing riding on it, there was nothing there to lose.”

“Good point,” Brian admitted.

“Besides, there’s a good chance I was protected by being with the two of you.”

“St. Brian,” I suggested.

“Don’t push it.”

Copyright © 2020 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I can commiserate.  In 1985 I bought a brand new Toyota 4Runner. It had a a 5-speed manual transmission. I'd never driven stick. Learned to on the test drive. Only problem was that when I was ready to leave the dealer the car was parked on an incline. I don't know how many times I stalled before the manager came out and sent the cute young salesman off to help another customer. He got in the passenger seat calmed me down and got me on my way. I headed straight to my parent's house picked up my kid sister, she'd been driving stick from the time she got her license 3 years earlier and we spent the next couple of hours driving all around up and down hills, etc. By the time we were done I'd put over a hundred miles on the odometer and never had another problem.

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Yep, I learned to drive stick on my driver's permit because I knew it was harder so wanted to learn that first.  But I have big feet and was learning in a friend's tiny Fiat, and he finally ran out of time to teach me, so I took my driver's test and failed the parallel parking because I stalled.

The officer said, "You drive fine but need more practice on the stick."

I said, "Yeah, I know that.  But if you give me my license, I can practice on my own.  I'm running out of patient friends."

He laughed but said he couldn't do that.  Though he nicely told me I could come any time and be retested, no appointment necessary.

So I came back the next day, driving another friend's car, with an automatic transmission, aced the test, while both pissing off and amusing the same officer, because he knew what I was doing.

Then I bought my first car, a VW squareback -- with a stick, of course.  Still drive one.

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I learnt to drive a manual, but got fed up with the driving instructor as all I was doing was going on long drives, so I changed driving schools and decided to go for an automatic got my license and about 12 months later I ended up getting a job with Budget Rent a car, so I quickly took a couple of lessons in a manual again as I just wanted to be sure that I had no problems which I didn’t, the first car I bought was a 4 on the tree. I have had a few manual cars since but I prefer an automatic, so much easier in traffic. There are very few manual cars sold in Australia as people prefer automatic due to commuting. 

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On 6/27/2020 at 7:52 PM, dughlas said:

I can commiserate.  In 1985 I bought a brand new Toyota 4Runner. It had a a 5-speed manual transmission. I'd never driven stick. Learned to on the test drive. Only problem was that when I was ready to leave the dealer the car was parked on an incline. I don't know how many times I stalled before the manager came out and sent the cute young salesman off to help another customer. He got in the passenger seat calmed me down and got me on my way. I headed straight to my parent's house picked up my kid sister, she'd been driving stick from the time she got her license 3 years earlier and we spent the next couple of hours driving all around up and down hills, etc. By the time we were done I'd put over a hundred miles on the odometer and never had another problem.

Why did you buy a 5 speed manual car? 

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I love driving a standard transmission, but your left leg does get tired in stop-and-go traffic!  My father was taught by someone who made him put a cup of water on the floor of the car and didn't consider him ready to take his road test until he could shift and go around corners without spilling a drop.

A manual shift still gives a bit more control, but the automatic transmissions they have these days are now efficient enough to do away with the gas mileage advantage that a standard used to have.  And the engine-braking effect of downshifting has been rendered unnecessary by power brakes.  (I saw a couple of restored Model A's the other week, and the owners said that with them, you need to downshift and start braking well in advance, if you want to stop in time!)

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I learned to drive a manual shift because I knew I'd be driving small trucks occasionally for work, and many of them were still stick.  I've stuck with it because I like it though I'd really like my next car to be electric.  Though I'll probably inherit the family Prius.

I'd really like an electric pick-up truck.  I'd really like an electric engine in my present, old, battered pick-up truck, but that's not going to happen.  Besides, both it and my present sedan are relics but unrestored and ought to be given away.  People keep wanting the pick-up, so it may get restored someday.  But the sedan's kind of ordinary.

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