Lucy and Ethel: Close encounters of the car kind

Lucy and I have had many, many vehicular encounters where I just knew that I would lose my life. There was a point when I felt like Lucy just aimed the car and pressed on the accelerator blowing over whatever happened to be in her path. It was fast and furious to say the least. Lucy had some pre-license fiasco's where I fortunately missed that I still can't believe she was able to get out of. Both were when my parents and I went the bowling alley as my parents were on a bowling league. Lucy had my Aunt's car in the ditch because the just KNEW she could drive it and then one occasion where she broke the key off in my Dad's pick-up. She told my Dad that she wanted to listen to the Radio--HE BELIEVED HER!
My Granny came down with a bad cold and called my Dad to get her some soup for meals. Granny lived in a town about thirty minutes away from where we lived and they didn't really have a grocery store. Dad asked Lucy and I to go to the store to get some soup for Granny and take it to her. "[Lucy] I want you to drive straight to Consumers, park by the trash dumpster away from the cars, walk in buy the soup, drive straight to Granny's and straight home." Dad had learned that he needed to provide such painful detail as my sweet sis took many privileges and would say, "you never said I couldn't..." she was so smooth--Velvet pure velvet!
My Dad drove an enormous Ford Super Cab. It was an extended super cab which meant it was like driving a school bus. Lucy didn't really have enough experience driving this as she usually drove my Mom's car. Any chance to get out of the house with key's was just too good to be true for Lucy. She and I piled into the truck and started on our way. We made it to the grocery store just fine, until Lucy started to think for herself. That always gets us in trouble--Lucy thinking for her self.
"Where are you going? Dad said to park by the dumpster." "He won't know where I park, besides I can park right her by the door and be in and out before anyone sees us." "Dad said,..." "William he's not going to know just shut up!" Lucy had chosen to park the behemoth between an awkwardly parked 79 Buick, huge in it's own right, and the yellow-poled concrete cart ramp. Lucy just didn't have the whole dimension of the truck in mind as she tried to angle her way into this tight spot. I was on the passengers side looking at the huge car when I heard the first sounds of scraping. SCREEEECH! "Oh my God, Sis you just hit that car-Oh my God, Dad is going to kill you." "Crap, Crap, William just shut up and look to see how bad it is." All the while she was still pulling into the parking spot. "Stop, just stop the truck." We stopped and Lucy's mind was racing, racing, racing.
An elderly gentleman walked up and saw the precarious situation we were in. Without saying anything he just held up one index finger and motioned in a circular direction then waved his hand. Why we trusted him I'll never know. His advise caused the Buick to puncture and rip into the side of my Dad's truck. It could have been that this man was the ex-husband of the old lady driving this tiny continent and just thought he could get some sort of revenge vicariously. "Crap." "Oh my God we are going to die--You are ripping the bumper off that car!" "William I swear to God--if you don't shut up!" The elderly gentleman was still leading the crash and bang orchestra with this index finger not helping us at all. We finally waved and smiled, saying our final goodbye's to the world.
After Grandpa Jones had is fun another person came up. This was a guy who looked to be in his teens, if that old. "Looks like you are in a pickle." "Yes, my Dad's going to kill me." "OK turn your wheel this way, now give it just a little gas---there now turn this way and just take it on out." Viola! Magic. This young pup knew his stuff and we were free. The Buick was now parked in the right position and had some serious damage to the chrome bumper. Lucy pulled around to the side of the store--where we were supposed to park in the first place and got out of the truck to survey the damage.
There was about a foot and a half scrape down the side of my Dad's white truck. The chrome trim had popped off and you could make the streaks of color left by the wounded Buick. "Sis, Dad's going to kill you." "Not if he doesn't know." "How is he not going to know. Look at that." "I can pound it out. Simple" Note: When one tries to pound out a dent by approaching it form the underneath side you only cause more bumps that compliment the dent. "I don't think that is helping, it's worse. You are dead." I because mortally afraid at that point because I just knew that Dad wouldn't be over his rage after killing Lucy and might just turn his attentions to me and take me out on account.
The old lady who drove the car was not even a little bit shocked. She told us that it happened to her all the time and that she was just glad it wasn't her that had made the dent this time. We were consoled only until the Insurance agent called our agent and made arrangements for the claim to be processed. Then it became a bigger deal.
By the time we got home it was dark, really dark. Dad was in the garage tinkering with what ever men tinker with in the garage and Mom was talking to him about her day. "They are both home. Don't say a word, I'll say everything and on matter what I say that is what happened." She really didn't have to worry too much about me because true to my typical reaction I was headed for my room to hide.
To get to the garage you had to go into the dining room and step down about two or three steps. "hey guys we are home." "What took so long?" "Oh nothing , Granny has her soup." "Dad, I had a little accident in the parking lot." I remember nothing else because I was in my shelter hiding. I do recall the aluminum screen door screeching open and slamming shut with my Dad headed toward the truck with a flashlight. The I recall the sound of the door shutting back and my Dad really, really mad. He lost his religion for about two minutes and was totally hot--madder than mad.
He never fixed that dent and as the scratch rusted into a giant hole it reminded him of his deep seated hate for Lucy's antics. There would be many, many more encounters with Lucy behind the wheel--it had only just begun.