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A few weeks after turning 16 I got my first car. I was so excited as I flung open the door and sat behind the wheel of MY car. I looked the inside over with admiration and giddy anticipation. Then I saw something very unfamiliar. An uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

"It's a four speed!" I screeched. My dad's mustache curled up at the sides. He laughed as if he had pulled a fast one on me. He knew that I would have never wanted the car if I knew he was going to force me to learn to drive a manual.

"Now, I'm going to drive it home to my house and then you are going to drive it home to your house," he said.

"But that's at least five miles!" I screamed.

"I know." My dad crossed his arms and nodded his head as his smile widened.

I didn't take my car home that day but it remained in dad's garage. Dad opted to give it a tune up. I think he knew I wasn't quite ready to take on the open road without some practice. I visited his house every free chance I got for the next few weeks but I couldn't get the hang of the gearshift/clutch coordination. My brother and step siblings thought this was hilarious. As soon as I would get into my car to drive it around the block they'd all race outside to watch me try to back up and pull away. "RRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN," the EXP would let out a cry as the engine revved. And then the car would start bucking, my head bobbing as I raced to push the clutch into the floor in order to save it from stalling. My family would often find themselves rolling around in the freshly mowed grass exhausted from laughing so hard.

When my dad felt confident in my gear changing abilities it was time to take my sweet baby home. Just me and her and the click, click, click of her push button radio. With her windows rolled down and humid mid July air hitting my face, I pulled out of my dad's development. I pulled out in first, bucking the whole way as I spied my family rolling around in the grass behind me as I looked through my rear view mirror. I shifted into second smoothly once she got rolling.

I drove two miles down the road to the town square which was a four way intersection. I had prayed to the good Lord above he let me hit that intersection with a green light but it was not to be. The intersection was in the middle of a town called New Freedom, named so because it was the first town the slaves came to when they crossed the Mason Dixon line, finding new found freedom, hence the name. However; New Freedom chose to offer

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