It happened without careening, which came as a surprise. Waiting all day for what was to become my Friday the 13th, I did at one point envision myself in a horrific car crash (I’m not crazy, I just am seriously crazy). Not usually too superstitious, it had been a relatively calm week so I expected this traditionally ‘unlucky’ day would be the one where something came crashing down. My eye began to twitch, unrelated, hours earlier and had not taken a rest from it since. In fact, it continues to twitch, but not from frustration. With today’s misfortune came not sadness or stress, but calm acceptance. At least from me, I dunno. It’s actually Miklos’s car.
I happened to be the one driving her today when she clicked her final kilometre. The car had been driving incredibly smoothly for something with crunchy brakes and a clunky something or other and a be-boppin’ engine that barrumped all along the traversed land when suddenly, in front of my old high school, the engine gave out and a-slowly rolling I did go. l I (safely) parked and called to break it to Miklos.
We towed it home and on one of Miklos’s truck’s wild turns (what an erratic driver!) somehow the towrope managed to get wrapped around a wheel. From the driver’s seat of the dead car, I decided to wave first. Then beep the horn. Then beep again. At this point we were at about three (3) feet of rope. Instead of beeping, I HONKED and then yelled at him. Since I’m very good at yelling, he stopped and I managed to brake hard enough to not plow into the back of his pretty new truck. YAY!
Not without a little effort, she made it up the driveway to her second-last resting place. Now she’s dead. A lot of memories in that car for me, and about 225,000 more kilometres more memories for Miki.
Mazda Protege. Dead at 13. On Friday 13. And the world is eerily calm.