Some Times In Our Minivan

1.
When school let out for summer, Dad bought a minivan and showed up to take Timmy and me and Timmy's friend Joshua for ice pops. He parked in the bus' spot and opened the hood and the trunk. There was a crowd, and we'd have given anything to just be on the bus, but Dad said, "Look, when I push this button the doors open on their own," and suddenly we were inside.

"You can even do it when the car’s in motion," Dad said. Joshua, who was always holding us back on things, said, "I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way. It makes me nervous."

"Watch your hands," Dad said, "Keep them inside, and just watch."


2.
As soon as Timmy was busy with whittling and archery and summer shorts, we drove to a farm. Dad slowed and tested the hazards.

Mom said, "Oooh look at those cows and the pastures and that little gazebo. Look at those flowers in front."

She turned around in her seat and said to me, "You'll get married here one day, I think," and to Dad, "Sarah will get married here one day. I think."

Dad said "No one's good enough for my little turkey," and gobble-pinched under my chin, and then Mom said, "I've collected this baby blond wig, and the perfect pink nail polish, and lacy white gloves, and a dress that goes down to your ankles and I'm saving them all for you to wear when you meet the right nice boy," and then Dad said without looking at me, "Wait. Full stop. Are you sexually active?"

Mom said, "You know, good idea, sure. Henry, I think it would be an okay time to bring up the birds and the bees, what with Timmy at camp at all. It's a quiet, special time," and Dad said, "You think this is a really a good time to talk about pulling out and rubbers? Is that what you mean to say, Barbara? We are in the middle of a field with the cows and the pasture and the flowers over here. We are taking it all in and you're over there talking semen in front of my little girl."

Mom said, "What I mean is, Sarah, would you just please tighten your shoelaces. Now push your hair behind your ears. Can you please just yank that bit of skin off your cuticle. Your hands should go in your lap. What I mean to say is"...and Dad interrupted, "How about saying no. Yes, saying no all of the time. That's the thing to say even if that little scumbag Joshua says he's got something to show you."

Mom said, "Henry, pipe down, she's not even six yet, and if I meant anything at all, I meant feminine hygiene, honey one day, what will happen is, well what I meant was," and then Mom turned around again and folded her own hands in her lap and said very softly, "Plus, I've got a veil and that dress and it's in all hanging a lint-free dry cleaning bag, and I'm certain you'll fit into it one day and then we'll talk more."

Dad took his hands off the steering wheel and wiped them on his pants. He used his shirt sleeve to pat his forehead though it wasn't wet and kept his eyes on the road the whole time, never once offering to open the doors.


3.
Some time later, with the back seats folded down, I didn’t exactly take the candy, but I knew what was being offered while Joshua whined, "Everything seems to be moving very fast."

I gobble-pinched under his chin and said, "Don't be a turkey."


4.
It was raining when they thought Timmy and I had fallen asleep in our reclinable seats. Mom and Dad drove back out to the farm, and Mom sighed and whispered, "She was going to get married here one day but look out there, Henry." She put one hand on her chest and the other on Dad's arm.

Dad said, "It may have been another farm that had a gazebo. It's difficult to tell between farm and farm and farm and farm..." repeating farm until Mom raised her voice to say, "And now the roads are flooding and if only we’d bought a Jeep with four wheel drive."

Dad rocked the minivan in and out of reverse. We were stuck. And then Dad wailed "I’ll never be a grandfather." And Mom said "Henry, you should have let me tell her about dental dams when I wanted to," and Dad said, if I remember correctly, Barbara, if I remember correctly what happened was..."

And suddenly everything on me felt feverish and full of more blood than it needed to have. "But Dad," I said, "Joshua is Timmy's best friend." Then Timmy coughed, or maybe choked a little bit.

We’d had a lot to eat for dinner.


5.
Then came an ambulette. The ambulette! We all climbed out of the minivan and into the ambulette, each of us holding one of Timmy’s limbs to buffet his shock. I patted Timmy gratefully for taking the attention off me. And Timmy recovered enough to say, "This is so not fair. The siren sounds like a dumb kazoo," and Dad said, "Son, I think you were faking it a little before. You sure seem to have your sense of humor back," and then Timmy passed out, but just for a little while and maybe just for effect.

I knew Timmy had been expecting more.


6.
The last time Mom and Dad drove me out to the farm they said "Up and out. We're dropping you off. You were going to get married here one day, but the pastures and the cows have been slaughtered and Timmy's bought the ambulette company because he liked the kazoo siren so much. You see what it does for his mood, don't you? He’s done so well for himself, and a full two years younger, at that. And Joshua's gone to work for him. Such a nice boy.

So this is your home now. Dig a well and watch you don’t burn it down, won't you?"
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MELISSA SWANTKOWSKI writes fiction in Brooklyn. She is one half of The Disagreement, a reading series based in NYC, and the prose editor for Bodega, a magazine of literary work.