stevenpiziks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stevenpiziks) wrote2011-05-09 10:41 pm
stevenpiziks) wrote2011-05-09 10:41 pm
Aran at the Wheel
Aran's piano lesson takes place at a small community college. They had final exams last week, so when we arrived for his lesson Saturday, the place was deserted and the parking lot was empty. After his lesson, I decided to try something. See, by the time I took driver's training, I had already been driving. Farm kids learn how to drive trucks and tractors by the time they can see over the dashboard and reach the pedals, so I was no stranger to the wheel. This made it easier to officially learn to drive. Aran is a city kid, though, and had no chance to try it. He can't even ride a bike. Could he handle a car?
I decided to find out.
I told him we were going to try him at driving a little. He wasn't sure about this, which is why I didn't ask him--I told him. He got behind the wheel with me in the passenger seat. There were no other cars around for him to hit; only the curb presented a potential problem. I told him to do exactly what I said.
"Don't touch the accelerator," I said. "Just ease up on the brake and keep the wheel straight."
So naturally he hit the accelerator and twisted the wheel. We jumped forward and angled for the curb. I told him to stop the car, but he was half into panic and didn't know what to do, so I reached over and bodily pulled his right leg away from the accelerator.
"Stop!" I told him. He hit the brakes and we jerked to a stop.
"Now do you understand why you have to do exactly what I tell you?" I said.
He nodded a little numbly. "I don't want to do this," he said.
"We're going to do it anyway," I said, and got him to straighten the car out. "Just go straight ahead. No gas. The car will move forward without it. You'll be fine."
We went forward until we reached the curb, and Aran stopped. Then I had him back straight up to the other side of the parking lot. Then we went forward, then back, forward, back. After several minutes of this, he became used to it and was more relaxed.
"Good," I told him. "Now let's drive around the parking lot."
A little nervous again, he guided the car around the outer perimeter of the parking lot at about three miles per hour. He grew more and more confident the more laps we ran, but I didn't let him touch the accelerator. After about eight laps, I said it was time to stop. He did perfectly well.
"How did you feel about driving?" I asked him.
"A little nervous," he admitted. "But it was cool."
And he drove a car!
I decided to find out.
I told him we were going to try him at driving a little. He wasn't sure about this, which is why I didn't ask him--I told him. He got behind the wheel with me in the passenger seat. There were no other cars around for him to hit; only the curb presented a potential problem. I told him to do exactly what I said.
"Don't touch the accelerator," I said. "Just ease up on the brake and keep the wheel straight."
So naturally he hit the accelerator and twisted the wheel. We jumped forward and angled for the curb. I told him to stop the car, but he was half into panic and didn't know what to do, so I reached over and bodily pulled his right leg away from the accelerator.
"Stop!" I told him. He hit the brakes and we jerked to a stop.
"Now do you understand why you have to do exactly what I tell you?" I said.
He nodded a little numbly. "I don't want to do this," he said.
"We're going to do it anyway," I said, and got him to straighten the car out. "Just go straight ahead. No gas. The car will move forward without it. You'll be fine."
We went forward until we reached the curb, and Aran stopped. Then I had him back straight up to the other side of the parking lot. Then we went forward, then back, forward, back. After several minutes of this, he became used to it and was more relaxed.
"Good," I told him. "Now let's drive around the parking lot."
A little nervous again, he guided the car around the outer perimeter of the parking lot at about three miles per hour. He grew more and more confident the more laps we ran, but I didn't let him touch the accelerator. After about eight laps, I said it was time to stop. He did perfectly well.
"How did you feel about driving?" I asked him.
"A little nervous," he admitted. "But it was cool."
And he drove a car!