The Family Car

I'm sitting up front
Riding shotgun in a little red Toyota
And salt stained pavement is racing by
Two troubled riders inside.
A jug of milk is at my feet
And a loaf of bread
Suspended between my knees
Swings perilously
Just above a puddle of slush
Trapped in a moving pool
Between my booted feet.
I sit here nervously fidgeting with my
Twelve year old hands
Between bouncing twelve year old knees
As only a twelve year old can
And wring creases around
The neck of that fragile plastic bag of bread.
I sit here uncomfortably
In the front passenger seat
Of this family car
Tossing my rebellious hair about
Peeking sideways at my quiet Dad
Sitting next to me, at the wheel
In the driver's seat.
Momma has been crying alot.
And its had the two of us wondering, worrying
And tonight; this was not
The normal route for an eleven at night
Milk and bread run
"Do you want to be a part of this family?"
Asks my father who has been driving silently
Like forever
Yeah ... Yeah I do, I scream inside
While the winter night sky
Spins all about me and the little red car.
I only nod my head a little at first to him
"Your mother wants you ...
To become a part of the family" he speaks again
His lips are moving but I can't hear him anymore
Adrenaline joy starts
Coursing through my veins
Somebody wants me, I heard.
Somebody wants me.
I'm almost thirteen
That's like one hundred kid years
And finally someone wants me.
I'll have my own name.
I may yet, get to win at this thing.
I nod my head again and again.

S J Garrett

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Notes For The Family Car