Driving Lesson
In light of his guardian's recent amputation and enucleation, Karkat tries to learn to drive. Karkat is six. It goes about as well as can be expected. Which isn't well at all.
-()-
"I really think this is a terrible idea." Karkat craned his neck to see over the ridge of the shiny black steering wheel. It wasn't that the car was gigantic: Slick wasn't a tall guy, and the car was some high-end sleek sedan, deceptively small considering it had enough horsepower under the hood to give the fuzz a run for their money and armor-plating under the shiny paint job. No, it was that despite the fact that Karkat was hitting the pre-pubescent growth spurt, he lacked a crucial foot in height that made both seeing over the steering wheel and operating the pedals at the same time impossible.
"Just move the damn seat forward."
Karkat gave Slick a long, cool look. "You do realize the legal driving age is eight sweeps, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'm six, Dad."
Slick reached over and hauled the seat forward. The tips of Karkat's sneakers brushed the pedals. "I don't give a shit."
The troll frowned, gathering his thoughts for the rant he felt coming on. It was difficult: he had been sure his guardian had been gone forever not even ten minutes ago, and then he was back, but minus two fairly crucial body parts, and now apparently he was revealing he'd probably lost about 50% of whatever sanity he'd had too, because he clearly fully expected Karkat to drive them home.
"Dad I really think that maybe Droog or Boxcars or someone else is better qualified to fucking drive a car considering I've never even sat in the driver's seat of one before and –"
"There's a level on the left side of the wheel that'll pull the steering wheel down." They exchanged a look, Karkat vacillating between shocked and furious, Slick sort of tired and exasperated. "Get the lead out of it, kid."
"You know at this rate we might as well walk home –"
"Stop arguing and fucking drive."
They glared at one another for a minute, and then Karkat broke away, shakily sliding the key into the steering column. The engine roared to life and Karkat winced. "Now what?"
"Seriously?" Slick put his hand over his eye, still careful of the line of stitches. "Alright, turn the wheel to the left, 'cause you're gonna pull out into the street. There oughta be enough space." Karkat spun the wheel as far as he could to the left, using both hands to pull it around. "Alright now push the clutch in all the way –"
"I don't think I can reach."
"Well make a fucking effort," Slick snapped. Karkat stretched, sliding down in the seat until all that was visible over the dash was the horizon and maybe the roofs of a few taller vehicles.
"Okay fine, it's . . . pushed or in or whatever. But now I can't see anything," he snapped.
"The street's empty. Put the car in first. It's just gonna roll out of the space, so just let it. Steer." Karkat fiddled with the gear stick, and the car started to roll forward, ever so slightly. And then there was a horrible grinding noise and the whole car bucked and jerked to a stop. "Don't let the fucking clutch out!"
"I can't see and push the pedals in!" Karkat wrestled the car back into neutral. "This is the stupidest thing ever!" Slick tossed him his backpack. "Finally!"
"Sit on that."
"What?"
"I ain't got a speech impediment, Karkat."
Karkat just looked incredulously at his guardian before wriggling the backpack, filled with his notebooks and homework, under himself. He perched atop it on the very edge of the seat, and Slick pulled the seat even farther forward, until Karkat's chest was practically pressed against the steering wheel. Karkat experimentally pushed the pedals. "Uh. I guess that's better. It's not very comfortable."
"Deal with it for ten blocks." Slick slouched back in the seat and pulled his hat down over his face. "Clutch in, car in first, let it out slow. Don't touch the fucking gas."
Inside one of the townhouses on the street, Aradia was sitting at the bay window, her nose pressed against the glass. As she watched the car jerk and stall slowly down the street, her nose wrinkled, and her brow furrowed. "Hey, Dad?"
"No, Aradia."
"But Karkat –"
"Slick is a abhorrent example of parenting."
She sat back on her ankles, hands on her knees, expression thoughtful. "But I think that I might be better –"
"I'm certain you have homework, Aradia." She scowled and opened her mouth, but she never did manage to get anything out. "I'm certain."
Nearly a full block away now, Karkat was starting to feel mildly more confident, if by 'confident' you meant 'terrified'. Things hadn't been bad on Aradia's street, which was mostly residential and didn't have much traffic to contend with, but now they were out on commercial streets, with other cars whizzing past in the opposite direction, and pedestrians. Not that Slick had been very much concerned with the latter. "They'll move," had been his only comment. Karkat was too distracted to point out that when he was younger, and other kids his age had been learning 'look left, then right, then left again' Slick had simply stepped out in front of the cars and said "they'll stop". Later, the irony of the whole situation would strike him, and he and Dave would have a dry, sarcastic laugh about it over Pesterchum. Or they would, if Karkat managed to survive the drive home.
"Alright, push in the clutch and ease on the gas. Easy." The engine revved but, Karkat was encouraged to see, the car didn't stall. "Now get into second and let the clutch out real slow. Push the gas more."
"There's a stop sign."
"Just go through it."
"I can't go through –" Karkat started to yell, but Slick shot him a glare and he backed off. To satisfy his own need to warn others, though, he laid on the horn through the intersection.
"You want the damn coppers to notice?"
"I didn't want to hit anybody!" Karkat peered across the dash, brow furrowed as he proceeded along at a steady ten miles per hour. "What am I going to do if I have to stop?"
Slick frowned. "Off the gas, push the clutch, put the car in neutral, hit the brakes."
"Clubs drives an automatic car, Sollux said."
"Good for him; I don't own one." He stiffened in his seat. "Brake."
"Hang on, off the gas and then –"
"Brake."
"Neutral . . ."
"Just fucking brake, Karkat!" Slick wrenched the parking brake up and the car lurched to a halt maybe six inches from the back bumper of the car ahead of them. Karkat's grey skin had gone ashen. "Jesus."
"Dad, I don't think this –"
"I know what you think, you little pansy, now put the damn car in neutral and wait for the light to turn green." Contrary to his tone, which was only registering around 'slightly irritated' on the Spades Slick Anger Scale, the man was stiff in his seat, right leg braced against the dash, left hand clenched firmly on the parking brake. Karkat realized this probably meant he'd either discovered new depths of rage or terror, and either one was probably not going to end well for him.
He was already wincing when he opened his mouth again. "Maybe you could drive?" Oh, God, that expression, the incredulous stare, the obvious bafflement at how anyone could be so stupid, even with one eye it was terrifying. Well fuck. "I could do the gear stick thing," he suggested meekly. Maybe, Karkat though desperately, maybe I could fake a seizure.
The silence in the car was oppressive. Karkat looked down, desperate to do something, and plucked at some foam that was leaking out of a slash in the seat. When he risked a glance up, Slick hadn't moved, save to look back out the windshield.
At length, the light changed back to green. "Turn left." The car lurched.
It was another three blocks before Karkat could reliably get the car to start from a standstill.
Around the fifth or sixth block, Slick stopped using the parking brake to stop.
By the eighth block, Karkat realized he was going to have to parallel park, and started hyperventilating.
By the ninth block, Karkat had talked himself into the belief that parallel parking was so challenging that even Spades Slick wouldn't make him attempt it on his first time driving. He was six, for chrissakes.
After the final block, and four attempts at parallel parking which ended in, in order: deployment of the parking brake, the back tires ending up on the sidewalk, a dent in the neighbor's car's front bumper, and the other neighbor's trashcans rolling down the street, Slick apparently decided enough was enough.
"Just park it in the front yard."
Karkat blinked. "What, like on the sidewalk?" He looked to the strip of grass that could only optimistically be called a yard, since it was mostly dead, and the smooth gray concrete of the sidewalk. "Cool."
The shocks yelped as the car bumped up onto the curb, gravel crunched under the tires, and finally the car floundered to a halt, just in front of the stairs. Karkat blinked again while Slick put the car into neutral and pulled the brake. "The neighborhood association is going to be pissed." He shut the car off.
"Good thing I'm the fucking president." Slick kicked the door open. "Don't forget to lock it."
The troll watched his guardian walk up the front steps, unlock the front door, and step inside. Then he just looked around the inside of the car, and the yard outside, complete with tire tracks across the sidewalk, and breathed out. "Awesome."
-()-
- twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 19:25 -
TA: 2o ii heard 2liick let you driive hii2 car
CG: WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU THAT. ARADIA SHOULD KEEP HER DAMN MOUTH SHUT.
TA: ii miight thiink that2 kiind of cool iif ii weren't totally convinced iit ended iin utter dii2a2ter
CG: OKAY WELL IT DIDN'T END IN DISASTER, IT ACTUALLY WENT PRETTY WELL.
CG: I DROVE THE WHOLE WAY AND PARKED IT.
TA: ii meant two a2k you about that
TA: when diid parkiing a car in the front yard become the thiing on your 2treet?
TA: becau2e iif ii remember correctly you liive iin kiind of a niice neiighborhood whiich ii2 notable for iit2 lack of redneck car2 up on block2
CG: WHAT.
CG: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
CG: DID YOU DRIVE BY MY HOUSE?
TA: dont look at me, club2 wanted two
TA: iit2 a good look, lend2 a certaiin je ne 2aii2 quoii two the 2treet
CG: FUCK YOU.
CG: TELL NO ONE.
TA: diid you wriite a note two your neiighbor 2iince you fucked up theiir car?
CG: THE FUCK DO YOU THINK?
TA: ii mean not liike iit2 not goiing two be obviious con2iideriing there2 a car parked iin your front yard
CG: SOLLUX WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP.
CG: NOT THAT I DON'T ENJOY YOUR THINLY-VEILED MOCKERY AND DISAPPROVAL
CG: BUT IT HAS BEEN A LONG DAY AND I AM HUNGRY AS SHIT.
TA: 2o iit2 bad?
CG: WHAT?
TA: 2liick. Aradiia 2aiid iit wa2 pretty brutal
CG: GODDAMN FUCK HER AND HER GIANT MOUTH.
CG: I GUESS IT'S BAD, WHATEVER, I DUNNO, HE'S IN HIS OFFICE OR SOME SHIT.
CG: I'M GOING TO HAVE TO FUCKING TALK TO HIM EVENTUALLY BECAUSE THERE IS NO ACTUAL FOOD IN THIS HOUSE AND I AM STARVING.
CG: I AM LITERALLY AT THE POINT OF EATING THE SOPOR SLIME AND GOING CRAZY LIKE THAT FUCKING GAMZEE LUNATIC OR WHATEVER.
CG: THAT IS HOW HUNGRY I AM.
TA: parent of the year nomiinatiion2 went out la2t week, have you been checking the maiil?
TA: iif lettiing your 6 year-old driive and not owniing food are con2iideratiion2 then 2hiit you two have that 2ewn up.
TA: kiind of liike 2liick2 face, iim told
CG: OH MY ACTUAL GOD
CG: FUCK YOU SOLLUX
TA: ii 2tiill am iimpre22ed that your guardiian lead2 a mob and yet you are alway2 2urpriised when bad 2hiit happens
TA: iit2 liike a form of retardatiion or 2omethiing
CG: SOLLUX WHAT THE HELL
CG: I CAN'T EVEN RIGHT NOW
CG: CANNOT
CG: EVEN
TA: 2orry man
TA: thii2 code ii2 dii2tractiing
TA: ii thiink iit would help iif ii werent 2hiit at programmiing
CG: COULD YOU NOT RIGHT NOW
CG: BECAUSE FIRST OF ALL I FEEL LIKE I ALWAYS HAVE THIS CONVERSATION WITH YOU, WHERE YOU START GETTING ALL DEPRESSED ABOUT YOUR PROGRAMMING SKILLS.
CG: AND THEN YOU SEND ME SOME '2hiitty viiru2' AND MY COMPUTER BLOWS UP
CG: AND THEN SLICK GETS PISSED BECAUSE HE HAS TO GO STEAL ANOTHER ONE
CG: WHICH RIGHT NOW IS KIND OF DIFFICULT ANYWAY, SINCE HE HAS ONE ARM, WHICH I GUESS ARADIA TOLD YOU ABOUT.
TA: yeah
TA: that kiind of 2uck2
CG: YOU THINK?
CG: ANYWAY, AND SECOND OF ALL I CANNOT HAVE THIS CONVERSATION RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I WAS ACTUALLY SERIOUS ABOUT BEING HUNGRY ENOUGH TO EAT SOPOR SLIME
CG: I GOTTA RUN MAN, THIS IS RIDICULOUS
carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
Karkat sat back in the glow of the computer screen for a minute. The course of action was clear enough, but the execution was going to be . . . difficult. After all, he hadn't seen Slick once in the three hours they'd been home; he could be anywhere in the house.
The office was the best place to start, though, all things considered. Even if Slick wasn't in there, maybe there would be some cash laying around or something. The man probably wouldn't mind if his kid took ten bucks for a pizza or whatever.
And in actuality, it was the best place to start, since Slick ended up being there anyway. The flashing black-and-white of the TV screen was the only light source in the room, and it bathed the small space in a sort of ethereal gray glow. Karkat crept in, Slick's eye flicked to him and then back to the screen. "What."
"Uh." Fuck, Karkat, who did you think you were, Tavros? "I'm hungry."
"There's food in the fridge."
"No there's not." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's all bad."
Slick glanced to him, then back to the TV again. "Left jacket pocket. Get what you want."
"Thanks." What he wanted was something fast, so he left the house, ten bucks clutched in his hand, shoved deep in his pocket, and walked to the end of the block. There was a corner store there, just closing for the night, but the owner knew him, and probably more importantly knew his dad, so he let the troll buy a bag of popcorn and a couple hot dogs and, after a little thought, a cherry turnover.
The turnover was gone by the time he got home, the rest of the food swinging in the plastic bag hanging from his arm. He shut the front door and threw the lock, and started for the kitchen. As he rummaged in the bag for the popcorn, he paused.
Ten minutes later, after the popcorn had popped and Karkat had saved it from a near-burning, he slid into the office again. Slick didn't look over this time. "Whaddaya need now?"
"You want some popcorn?"
The pause was long enough that Karkat was getting ready to turn and leave. "Yeah, sure. Get over here." He walked across the floor, to the old leather couch, and gingerly hopped up on the man's right side, holding the popcorn bag out like a peace offering. Which it sort of was, in a way.
They didn't say anything for a long time, partially because The Shawshank Redemption was on and it was an unspoken house rule that Shawshank was sacred and not be to interrupted, but mostly because Karkat couldn't think of what to say and Slick seemed disinclined to say anything at all.
Warden Norton had just blown his brains out when Karkat said, barely loud enough to be heard, "Thanks for letting me drive."
"Hmph." Slick had his chin propped up on his fist, slouched over the arm of the couch. At some point, he'd unbuttoned the white shirt. His eye was half-closed and Karkat thought that he looked as tired as he'd ever been.
While Red looked over the guns and assorted goods in the shop window, Karkat risked another attempt at conversation. Whether Slick took it well or not, he'd decided, it was something that he needed to get off his chest. "I'm really glad you're back."
Slick's gaze slid over to him once more. The man shrugged, looked back to the TV, and then changed position, lying down across the sofa. His hand landed heavily on Karkat's head. "Me too, kid."
By the time Red was on the beach, and Andy's shitty boat was visible in the distance, Slick was asleep. Karkat yawned. His recuperacoon – his own recuperacoon, not one of the spares at Boxcars' place, or the portable sleeping bag version – was upstairs, warm and gooey and welcoming. Waiting.
It could wait, Karkat decided, until tomorrow night. Because it didn't matter if he'd miss it another night and have to sleep on this shitty couch. It didn't matter if Slick would probably shove him off the couch at some point, or that the man snored like a chainsaw. It really didn't matter that Slick would probably have some kind of disparaging comment when he got up the next morning.
Karkat laid down next to his guardian, shoved the empty hot dog wrappers onto the floor, and kicked his sneakers off. Then he closed his eyes, and managed not to smile like a dumb little kid until after he fell asleep.
-()-
GOD I AM SO CUTE I JUST CANNOT EVEN STAND IT.
ALSO EVERYONE WATCH THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION IT IS PRETTY GREAT. 3