"Okay, now look over your shoulder and put 'er in Reverse. No! Brake, brake, brake!"
The truck came to a stop just inches away from the garbage can sitting at the edge of the driveway, halting so abruptly that both driver and passenger jerked forward in their seats, only to be snapped back by their seatbelts.
"Oops," Kurt said in a small sheepish tone, hurriedly shifting the vehicle back into Park. "I think I turned the wheel when I turned my head. Sorry, Dad."
Burt sighed. His son had passed his drivers-permit test with flying colors but translating all that text into actual physical experience was proving to be something of a challenge. Kurt kept getting ahead of himself, going too fast and trying to do everything all at once.
Trying to remain calm and supportive, he bit back the sarcastic comment that had sprung to his lips and merely said, "That's okay, son. Everyone makes a few mistakes when they're learning something new. Remember when I taught you to ride a bike? You kept jerking the handlebars and throwing yourself off balance but you eventually figured it out. Same with roller-skating. You spent that whole summer with scabbed up hands and knees and a black and blue ass until you finally got the hang of it. You'll get this, too."
Kurt took a shaky breath. "I hope so, but I wasn't in danger of running anyone over with a bike or skates."
"Tell that to my toes." To Burt's relief, his son huffed a small laugh at the light joke. "Come on, now. You won't get any better if you don't practice. Let's just try it again and this time, keep the wheel straight and tap the brakes lightly until you've got the car all the way to the end of the driveway. Don't start turning until you clear the edge of the sidewalk and just take it nice and slow. This isn't a race. You want to make sure to use your mirrors and get a good look in every direction before you pull out into traffic. Make sure you check to see if there are any people or other cars coming your way."
"People?"
He clarified. "On the sidewalk. You're a little bit blind on the left here because of the fence. Suppose some lady with a baby stroller or a guy with a dog happens to be walking by. You don't want to run 'em over."
The boy's blue eyes widened with alarm at that thought. He had been watching vigilantly for other cars but clearly had not given much thought to possible sidewalk traffic.
Kurt had wanted very much to take the Driver's Education course at the local high school, where he would be starting in the fall, but there was a rule stating that you had to have passed your permit test before you could begin Driver's Ed, and Kurt's 15th birthday had not come around until mid-summer, when that class was already over and done with. There was another one scheduled to start right after school began in September and Burt was already planning to make sure that Kurt was enrolled.
In the mean time, a little elementary education seemed like a good idea. Get those nerves calmed down and Kurt's brain focused on all the intricacies of driving in the real world. He would require a certain number of practice hours with a licensed driver before he could qualify for his own licence anyway, and Burt would not have missed out on this particular father and son bonding ritual for all the world.
Though, he remembered it being a lot less stressful when he was in Kurt's place and his old man had been doing the teaching . . .
"Let's get this show on the road," he ordered jovially.
Kurt drove carefully back up the driveway to his original starting position. "I can do this," he muttered quietly to himself. Tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, he applied the brake, looked behind him and carefully backed the truck down the driveway, nice and straight this time, watching carefully for pedestrians and vehicles and obeying his father's quiet instructions about when to turn the wheel for a smooth venture into the street.
"Good job. Now, hold the brake down while you switch over into Drive. We're just gonna take a nice leisurely trip around the neighborhood. Let you get the feel of being behind the wheel for awhile before we start worrying about driving in normal traffic. Just don't forget to watch out for stop signs."
Kurt nodded tensely, knuckles white as he gripped the wheel at ten and two and gingerly gave the truck a little gas.
"You're doing great," Burt praised him when they had driven several blocks without incident. "Let's turn right at this next corner."
"Okay," he agreed, fingers spasming as he released his death-grip on the steering wheel to adjust the position of his hands, overcompensating a little and nearly continuing his turn right into the edge of the sidewalk.
The boy gasped as he quickly corrected the motion, shooting his father an embarrassed glance.
Burt gulped, thanking his lucky stars that there had been no one parked along the curb. It was early on a Sunday morning and he had been counting on the lack of street traffic when he suggested last night that Kurt set his alarm for six o'clock. Most people were either sleeping or attending sunrise church services at this time of day, so there were no other cars to worry about. "It's okay, Kurt, you got it. No harm done. Just try it again when you get to the end of the block. Nice and easy this time."
Kurt managed to maneuver around the corner much more easily the second time and both Hummels breathed a sigh of relief. Burt knew full well that Kurt tended to get a little scared and tense when trying new things, especially if whatever he was doing would affect other people. If he could just get him feeling comfortable behind the wheel, he would be fine.
"Want to try parking?" Burt asked when they had successfully managed two six-block round trips and were beginning their third lap. Kurt was beginning to relax, even starting to enjoy it a little, and he nodded, daring a quick glance sideways before fixing his gaze intently back on the road. "Okay, let's head up to the end of this street and turn left."
The boy tensed again. Left turns were something new, but Burt had chosen his route carefully. This block had a protected turn lane with a signal light. "Wait for the green, take a quick look around to make sure there aren't any jackasses trying to race the red light from either side, and accelerate nice and smooth. Now, notice that there's two lanes going in the direction we want, so don't put too much swing on your turn. Just aim for the lines on the left side, exactly like the picture in your driver's manual."
"I got it," Kurt assured him, doing his best to sound confident. Burt wasn't fooled, but he was proud of him for the effort. The light went green, Kurt glanced left and right, then nearly jumped out of his skin when the impatient driver behind them honked his horn, angry that they hadn't just darted out the second the light turned. Kurt stomped on the gas and whipped the turn, ending up in the right side of the new double southbound lane instead of the left. The other driver zoomed past them without a care in the world. The boy sighed unhappily, defeat filling his voice as he apologized yet again, "I'm really sorry, Dad. I'm horrible at this!"
"No, you're not. You're new at it, and what happened just now wasn't your fault. I should have warned you when I saw that jerk pull up behind us. Some people are always in a big damn hurry to get nowhere, and they're not your problem. You take your time and stay safe. Let the other assholes get the speeding tickets."
The boy nodded, smiling a bit. "Okay. So, should I get back over to the left?"
"I think we'll stay here for awhile. Pull into the parking lot at the end of the next block. The bank is closed today, so you can practice moving in and out of parking spaces over there for as long as you want to."
Kurt seemed happy with that idea, though Burt suspected it was because he was eager to remove himself from the perils of live traffic for a few minutes.
They spent the next thirty minutes doing laps around the bank building and pulling into assorted spaces all over the lot. After a while, Burt smiled, realizing that Kurt was becoming increasingly confident in figuring out how to back in and out, navigate right and left, and correctly judge the location of lane lines once he could no longer see them clearly.
"See? I told you you'd get it!" Burt praised. "It's easier to tell how much room you've got to park when there's other cars around but this is good enough for now. And, seeing as you've managed to get the truck into a nice safe spot and it's almost eight o'clock, what do you say we take a break and head across the street to Molly's Diner for some breakfast?"
He had chosen this practice location deliberately. Kurt loved the little family restaurant where the Hummel family had been dining on special occassions since he was a toddler, and the owners both loved him. They would be delighted with his accomplishment and Burt knew it would do the kid's confidence a world of good to have somebody outside the family to whom he could show off his brand new driving permit; certified proof that he wasn't a kid anymore.
They shut off the engine and got out of the truck, Kurt carefully making sure that he had locked the doors and rolled up all the windows. Then the boy did something that he had rarely done since growing past the age where he felt comfortable with public displays of affection, and reached out to squeeze his father's hand. "Thanks for doing this with me, Dad. It really means a lot."
Burt squeezed back firmly, recognizing a silent request for reassurance in the gesture and hoping that Kurt's fancy, fingerless leather gloves would keep him from noticing how clammy his father's hand had become. He did not want his boy to realize just how nerve-wracking this experience had been for him.
"It means a lot to me, too, kid." Flashing the boy a sincere smile, he reached over and plucked the jaunty woolen driving cap off of Kurt's head and ruffled his hair. "Anything to help you out."
There was a moment of silence, then, "You know, once I get my licence next summer, it would help me out a lot if I had my own car."
A loud groan of parental exasperation broke over the quiet Sunday morning, accompanied by delighted boyish laughter.