the old red car

I take the right turn out of our neighborhood and count in my head 1...2...3... as the car lurches to make the turn. Isobel reaches forward and turns up the song she’s playing. Suddenly the two of us are belting the chorus. More screaming than singing is heard in our little red Volvo Station Wagon. Aiden asks for a song request from the back that surprises me. I forget how old he is sometimes, probably because he’s the youngest in the family. Even the car is older than him. The car was our grandmother’s. Bought during an age where smoking cigarettes was second nature and no stranger to my grandma and this car. After the car’s time with our father’s mom, she went to our older cousin. Emma used it for a time before she left home for boarding school and then the ownership transferred to her younger brother Robbie. Robbie is the tallest person I know. God knows how he survived in this car. After he graduated high school and was off into the real world, the car was given to me. In the last 3 years, it’s seen all versions of me, my friends, and this family. Every once and a while on a very hot day, the type of heat that suffocates you, the black leather of the seats heats up and a faint cigarette smoke smell wafts into the air. A slightly gross reminder of the history of this car. Isobel and I now share the car. Aiden will be the next brave soul to and he’ll probably be the last one.

When I glance back at him in the mirror I can see that he is singing along with us. He would never want Isobel and me to know that he was singing, but we can always tell. I watch him as he looks between us and the world outside, eventually resting his eyes on the window. I am reminded that this is the last time I would drive him for a while and I think of the first time I ever drove him. As the oldest sibling, I was the first to learn how to drive. The first time I ever drove my mom took me. Isobel came for the adventure, as she called it and Aiden had no want to come. Needless to say, I drove the car into a bush. This did not instill complete confidence in my driving skill in my little brother’s mind. The first time I drove him was because he had no choice. The 3 of us were going from our mom’s house to our dad’s. Isobel, Aiden, and I shoved all our stuff into the car, and with Mom waving at us, I pulled out of the driveway. Isobel was having a blast cueing up songs while Aiden sat in the back white-faced and silent. He stared out the window like it was the last time he would see our home and would not look at me or move a muscle. When we finally made it to my dad’s he grabbed his stuff and ran out of the car. Isobel and I laughed at him and followed suit. Now as I glance at him in the rearview mirror he does not look nervous, rather almost sad. He won’t look at Isobel and me, not because he’s scared but because he does not want to admit what is happening. I feel myself slightly smile at him as Isobel rapidly changes songs again.

The car jolts as Aiden slams the door shut. He’s always shutting it too aggressively. Our trio walks into the grocery store. We get the essentials: Oreos, brownie mix, cookie dough. We’ve decided to make slutty brownies. We throw the ingredients at Aiden as he catches them in the basket. Our trip gets stalled when he stands in the candy aisle looking for a very specific type of gum he likes. I glance at my phone and the time reads 11:11 p.m. I make a wish in my head and as I go to kiss the time on my phone. Isobel does the same, instilling our wishes will come true, something our mother taught us to do. Aiden finally picks his gum and we check out. The car ride home is much like the one to the store. Music and singing, with the addition of Isobel telling us about her plans to decorate her dorm room and the goals she has for her and her roommates. We swing by mom’s so Aiden can pick up the summer reading book he was yet to start even though he only has a few weeks to do so and for Isobel to grab her clothes for work she always forgets. We hug Mom goodnight and she yells “drive safely” out her window. I drive us to dad’s. Isobel and I are in deep conversation gossiping about our coworkers and debating whether or not we’ll work there again next summer. The drive is second nature to me at this point. I’ve walked it, biked it, ran it, and drove it on my best of days and worst of nights.

We get home and each knows our roles. Aiden preheats the oven and grabs the mixing bowls. I take out the ingredients and get everything ready. Isobel does her usual thing and goes upstairs to avoid helping out and comes back a few minutes later with a speaker. We continue our jam session from the car and prepare our dessert. I make the brownie batter, mixing the ingredients together by hand until I am apparently mixing “too slow” for Aiden's liking. He takes it out of my hand. I take a seat and begin delegating jobs to my siblings. Ya know, the job of the big sister. Isobel puts a layer of cookie dough on the bottom of the brownie pan. Aiden hands me the batter to pour over the cookie dough. As I'm doing this I glance at Aiden sitting at the table, wanting him to skip the song that was playing and I notice a familiar look on his face. It’s the same look from the car. He has gotten quiet again and is looking at his phone. Isobel says some stupid quip not noticing Aiden’s shift in attitude and I see a slight smile spread on his face. She always makes him laugh. The smile has a short life and his face falls again. I know he’s lost in thought. Thoughts about the future. About his future. About his next few years without Isobel and I. A few years of our parents alone. A few years of making the trek between houses alone. A few years of learning to drive the red car alone. A few years that I know will fly by. I break him from his trance, calling for him to put the Oreos on top of the brownies. I tell him he can place them however he likes. Isobel and I of course changed his designs before we put the brownies in the oven but the thought was there.

The 3 of us ate those slutty brownies and watched stupid television that entire night. Two days later I left and made my long trip down to North Carolina. A few days later Isobel left and made her much shorter trip to Boston. Last week Aiden had his first day of sophomore year of high school. Early that morning I got a memory on my phone. It was the 3 of us standing in our living room posing for our first day of school photo from a few years ago. Aiden in the middle and Isobel and I on each side. Later that day while I was sitting in class my mom sent us all a photo. It was Aiden standing in the living room for his first day of school photo. I could tell my mom tried to get him to smile but he is too cool for that, the way that 15-year-old boys are too cool for things. I texted back saying I hoped Aiden had a good bike ride to school that day, teasing him about his inability to drive yet. Knowing that the next time Isobel and I are home, he’ll be the one driving us to the grocery store late at night and we’ll all have changed some from the last time we saw each other.