The Mustang

This past week I have been talking bout memories and of course if you talk about it the play button is set in motion. So here is one of those cases. I was a terrible confused and angry child and being “good” was a difficult thing for me to be. My very best friend had been invited to a party and this guy that I had a serious crush on was gonna be there. I begged and pleaded to my mom to please let me go. She was way over protective because she had lost one child and this added to my frustration.

Two long weeks of making absolutely certain that I followed all her rules and now the big moment was here. I had the outfit picked out, hair up in rollers, I was ready! Then the bomb dropped, she didn’t like where the girl lived, she wasn’t sure her parents would be good chaperones. I could not believe she was doing this to me; she had given her word, liar! To say that I was devastated would be putting it mildly, but going to the party yes I was.

I carefully invented a reason to be in her room and I eased the keys to the car, a Ford Mustang one of the first. I patiently waited for the house to go to sleep and I eased down the steps, slowly opened the front door and made my way to the car. I put the key in the ignition and put the car into drive. I didn’t know about easing on the gas pedal so I didn’t. BAM! I ran into the car park in front of us and it pushed into the car in front of it, but I am still going to the party, so I turn the steering wheel trying to make my get away, I turn it to hard and step on the gas. BAM! I run into the house across the street from us and if they didn’t have a wall in front, I would have ended up in their living room.

Everybody comes running out of the house; I just sit in the car. I can feel her before I see her, my momma standing at the window. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives me the look and then looks at our house. I slowly walked back across the street and up the stairs, she is gonna kill me. I walk up the front stairs and down the back stairs, over the back fence and on to the party. I walked four miles at night in South Central L.A. to the party. When I got to the party it was just turning out and everybody was leaving, I had maybe 5 minutes there. As we are leaving I am walking with my best friends brother and a police car drives up and I hear this cop call my name, I keep walking. He shines the light on me and I stop. He says aren’t you Madelyn and I say no and give them the name of my best friend and I proceed to tell them that Madelyn’s mother just picked her up. Satisfied they have done their job they drive off.

I was captured the next day by my best friend’s mom and returned home, my mother didn’t speak to me for six months and I do mean she didn’t say anything, nothing at all.

On the other hand, Karma ain’t no joke, gonna tell you that one next time.