Scene 4: The Learner’s Permit
Session after session, she worked on her driving skills that summer. When it was not her turn to use the simulator, she sat in the classroom and watched films about defensive driving and studied the driver’s manual, if Mr. Dominguez were not lecturing, that day.
As she practiced in the simulator, she learned to use her left hand to operate the turn signal. For the headlights and other controls, she used her right hand. Using her left was spontaneous and spiritual as her body responded to her need to use it.
After passing the classroom written examinations and meeting all the school standards on the simulator, Karen at last sat peacefully in her mother’s 1964 Chevy Malibu Super Sport as Mama navigated the roads between Topanga Canyon and the nearest California DMV office, the one in Culver City.
Mama reached her right hand across to Karen’s beautiful disabled left hand. “I am so proud of you. Look what you’re accomplishing. You’ve proved to me you can do everything you put your mind towards doing. I apologize if I ever doubted you, my sweet daughter.”
A knot of emotion released from Kitten’s center. She lifted her left arm and reached back toward Mama’s hand, gripping it and beaming with an inner feeling of love.
Another few miles and they were almost there. It was a clear, crisp day, and the weather was perfect in Southern California.
Mama parked in the DMV lot, and for a moment, feelings overwhelmed Karen. She thought to herself, Kitten, you can do this. You can pass this test. You are fearless—do this thing that you fear the most. Know that you are safe. Just believe in yourself. Now, walk through your fear and through the DMV door.
Karen got out of the car and took the lead. Mama followed her. Karen opened the plate glass door and took a number from the machine. She and Mama were number 213, and the current number was only 198.
The room was not full. There were lots of places to sit, but none where two people could sit together. While sitting down in a chair away from her mama, Kitten gazed at the number machine, repeating her affirmations. Steadily, she thoughtfully contemplated them to reinforce and fortify her positive beliefs about herself.
When her number came, she thought it was not her. But it was her. Number 213, and she aced the test.
Original text ©2023 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.
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