For the record, I'd like to say that none of this was my idea. Therefore, no one should blame me. I was totally fine with just having Jake or Dad drive me around. They were fine with it, too. Better to drive me to games and parties and the beach, than to have me killed in some horrible accident. After surviving the Yeerks for so long, it'd be kind of embarrassing to die in an ordinary car crash.
No, this was all Mom's idea. "I learned to drive without causing accidents," she said, "and so will you. It really isn't that hard." If we were a normal family, I might have been satisfied with that. But my mother spent nearly six years as the slave of a power-hungry, bloodthirsty, totally insane slug alien... thing. And she spent about half that time believing I'd suffered a similar fate. She does not have a normal perception of difficulty. After surviving that, everything's easy to her.
I used to think I was an okay driver, before my friends and I had to distract some alien dust tornado from our other, temporarily amnesiac friend who was inhabiting the form of an elephant (but that's another story). I had to drive to get there, and my friends spent most of the time screaming at me to avoid trash cans. But I'll have you know I'm still unbeatable at driving games, especially Wipeout. In fact, in the days before my first driving lesson, I spent most of my time kicking Jake's, Tobias's and Ax's butts at Wipeout. They all had their excuses ("You've had more practice", "I'm not used to video games anymore", "I cannot understand this primitive human system"), but hey, the leaderboard spoke for itself.
Before I knew it, it was Tuesday. I was going to have driving lessons on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays for "as long as it takes", according to Mom. Jake made a few cracks about having to schedule my wedding around the lessons, if I ever had one. Ha, ha. Hilarious. Ignoring him, I got into the car. Of course, I wasn't the one driving. Mom had generously volunteered to take me to and from lessons. Her driving was actually pretty awesome, to be honest. A careful combination of risk and caution. Exhilarating, but not terrifying.
And she knew it. When we arrived, the first thing she did was smirk at me. A triumphant, confident smirk. But nothing like the smirk of Visser One, the Yeerk who had crawled into her brain and taken total control. Yeerks are good at passing for human. So good that for the year Visser One had lived in our house, we never knew. Never even suspected that my mother was no longer in control.
But the Yeerk was dead now. I'd killed it. Mom was free.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, okay, that was really cool. But I could totally beat you at Wipeout."
She smiled. But not the cold, mocking smile I had seen many times before, when Visser One had been controlling her like a puppeteer controls a puppet. "We'll see about that at home." I wasn't completely used to having Mom back, as herself again. But I was happy. "Time to go meet your instructor," she continued. "I made sure to get one who doesn't scare easily." She was still smiling, warm light sparkling in her eyes. I had missed that smile.
"Yeah, well... I bet you were worse than I am. A completely insane driver." It was a pathetic comeback, I know. To tell the truth, I always felt a bit out of my depth whenever I tried to banter with Mom. This was someone who'd been wisecracking for a good twenty-five years longer than me. Someone with total self-confidence, untouched by insecurity. Someone who'd been through hell and back, and could still make a joke out of life.
Thankfully, the instructor showed up before Mom could start laughing at me. He was a tall, thin man with a balding head and a suit. "Is this the eleven-thirty appointment?" he asked in a nasal voice. I had to struggle to keep myself from laughing, and a quick glance in Mom's direction told me she had the same problem.
"Yes, this is Marco," she managed to get out.
"Very good." Oh man, more of that voice... I was practically shaking with suppressed laughter. "Let's get ready for your first lesson. Follow me to the car, please." He started walking, but Mom and I hung back for a moment.
"Is this the eleven-thirty appointment?" We both adopted a nasal voice. Mom laughed, giving me an affectionate shove. "Go learn to drive, kid." I nodded and walked to the car.
You can probably guess how the lesson went. And I'd just like to mention: Not my fault. None of it. Zero per cent.
The very first task was to start the car, which I managed to do without disaster. (Didn't expect that, did you?) No, it was when I had to practice navigation that the problem started. There they were, a zigzag pattern of orange traffic cones. I would have to drive slower than walking speed to have a prayer of getting through without knocking anything over. So that's exactly what I did.
After about five minutes, I'd successfully navigated my way around three cones. Out of twenty-five. The instructor looked at his watch. "Any chance of speeding this up a bit?" he suggested. "You're only booked for another hour and twenty minutes." Oh, he was rushing a student driver? The jerk. Well, if he wanted speed, I would have to give him speed.
Within seconds, I was at the other end of the car park. The cones were scattered across the ground, some still rolling. I turned to the instructor and gave him a winning smile. "Fast enough for you?"
He didn't snap. I wasn't expecting him to, not yet. He would smile back, pretend to find it funny, then move on. But I would keep going. I didn't want to drive him completely insane, just frustrate him enough to make him decide that teaching me to drive wasn't such a good idea. If I had to take these lessons, I was going to try and have fun with them.
And so, Operation Handbrake was born. I was considering naming it Operation Insane or Operation Looney Tunes, but I'd already done too many things that were more deserving of those titles.
Hey, I realized. Maybe if I scare my instructor off, Mom'll call off lessons... Or find a new instructor, a tougher one. I smiled evilly to myself. We'll just have to see.
Then, I had to do all these tests. Speed (I ruled at that), stopping, turning, changing gears, indicating, braking, stuff like that. Well, I say I did those. It was actually more like: "Speeding around the car park, making insane screeching turns, totally ignoring the indicator and occasionally risking a crash when I thought to change gears".
By the end, the instructor was gripping the edge of the seat, his face white. Hey, I thought this one didn't scare easily! Then again... I looked out at the car park. At this point, it was harder to find unmarked ground on the car park than to find tire tracks.
I smiled again, acting perfectly innocent. "So, how was I? Think I'm ready for the real test?"
He sighed, obviously fighting the impulse to strangle me. "Well, son, we have a lot of work to do yet. Hey, look!" He held up his watch. "Lesson's over. See you on Thursday." Technically, the lesson wasn't meant to end for another fifteen minutes, but I wasn't exactly going to complain.
"Whatever you say, sir! I can't wait!" Still playing the part of cheerful and sweet, I got out of the car and headed back to Mom.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" was her first question. Um, excuse me, were you WATCHING that?! I couldn't have driven worse if I'd tried! But then, I saw the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She found this whole thing hilarious, I knew it.
"Okay, just say it. I sucked big-time." I laughed to let her know it was okay. What fun is life if you can't laugh at yourself sometimes? That's something Mom taught me, and I'm pretty sure it saved my sanity more than once. Sometimes, after a mission, I just took time out to laugh at how insane my life had ended up. Mom and I must have looked crazy, two random people just standing there and laughing. But who cared?
When we were done laughing, we got back in Mom's car and went home. On the way home, we were quiet. Mom looked lost in thought, but I had no idea what she was thinking about. It could have been anything. Before I knew it, we were home, and Mom was picking up one of my game handhelds (I just can't bring myself to call them controllers anymore) and smiling.
Oh, that was right. I'd been challenged.
"How about you call your friends?" Mom suggested. "Show them all how an old pro does it."
"An old pro? Excuse me?" I shook my head, laughing. "Sure."
Mom laughed with me, but there was determination in her eyes. "Go call your friends. I'll set up the game."