aeryn

Once, about fifteen years ago, I was desperately trying to follow my step-mother. My step-mother drove the way she lives- like a bat out of hell and with very little regard for those trying to keep up. I tend to drive much more cautiously, especially when its raining hard and I dont know where I am or where Im going. Im not sure if this how I live, but it is how I drive.

So I was several cars behind her that rainy late afternoon in St. Louis, which put me directly behind the Jaguar. Jaguars are common in the neighborhood we were in. So are BMWs, Mercedes, and Porsches. There are big houses with big lawns surrounding even bigger country clubs. There are debutantes and private schools. And there are women who get up before the sun, put on a maids uniform and take the bus for two hours across town to clean and cook and raise the children for the inhabitants of the big houses.

This afternoon, there were two such women standing off the side of the road. Grandmothers who should be able to sit down after a long day of working for someone else; who, actually, should be at a point in their lives where people wait on them. They huddled to together under plastic hair scarves, and tan uniforms, two friends waiting for the bus home to their neighborhood. I dont have to tell you their skin color because you know it.

The maroon Jaguar, just before he pulled even, swerved. It swerved into the large puddle sending a sheet of water over the two ladies heads, drenching them completely. Purposely. I think it was just one man driving the car so he wasnt even trying to show off for a friend but did this solely for himself.

And what is worse is: I didnt stop.

I did slam on my breaks wanting to take the women into my dry car and take them home. I did consider following the Jaguar and beating the crap out of the guy in polo shirt and pressed khakis and perfect white teeth. But there was my step-mother speeding ahead. I didnt know where I was. Or where I was going. Can you hear the excuses? Id like to think Id stop now because Ive had fifteen years to dream about not being afraid to do the right thing. But dreams and the ability to do the right thing when needed arent always the same thing.