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Cori Safford
English 1010
Personal Narrative / Substantive Review
23 April 2012
“Good Company”
As usual I was half-heartedly preparing for a house full of company for my
daughter’s birthday party. My mother-in-law Jessie had just arrived and the
grilling was well under way. “Cori dear, what’s on the menu for tonight? Cori dear,
don’t you think we should vacuum before everyone arrives? Cori dear, have you
already gotten the ice cream for the cake?” Seriously, I had plenty of time. The
party wouldn’t start for another hour and half! Then slowly the look of sheer worry
and panic crept over her face as I, as usual, answered “no” to all of her questions.
She would then kick into overdrive and begin scampering around the house getting
everything finished, or started for that matter. I often wondered if she thought I
was capable of getting anything accomplished on time. Maybe someday I could
change her mind.
Once when I was to have my three year old daughter Brittney to a
morning dance rehearsal, not only did I prove that I can get things done, I could get
things done under stress. The rehearsal was to begin at eleven a.m. but we had
been informed to be there by ten thirty. Although the school was clear across town
on the east side I was confident this wouldn’t be a problem. With address in hand,
children in tow, one being dressed to the hilt in glittered red and white, I was well
on my way. No sooner had I pulled out of my driveway in our 1981 Chevrolet
Celebrity going less than half a block that the challenge began. The car engine
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started to race as if it was in neutral. As the car began to slow down the engine
raced even faster. Knowing absolutely nothing about engines it was pretty clear
even to me that I was in serious trouble. I immediately pulled over and parked the
car. With a frantic rush I unloaded Chad, my infant son, and grabbed Brittney’s
hand and headed home. The luxury of having a cell phone in my purse wouldn’t
come into play for another fifteen years, so the nearest phone was at home about six
houses away. Getting in touch with my husband Randy was quick and easy. He
agreed to leave his job immediately and come pick us up to drive us to the
rehearsal. This was just a small glitch and if we hurried I knew we could still make
it on time.
Randy did just as promised. He arrived shortly and we again loaded up the
children, only this time it was in his work van. She was a cruiser. It was an old
1978 Mountain Bell van that had been converted into a work truck by my husband.
It was a carpet layer’s dream. Without delay we were off and I felt that we were
still on schedule. We pulled out of our neighborhood and onto the main road. As we
made our way down the main street, it became apparent that we were yet again in
trouble. As Randy picked up speed somehow the stick shift came apart underneath
the van and it was stuck in first gear. He pulled over into a parking lot and turned
off the motor. He looked over at me and said nothing. I’m not a woman who uses
foul language to express herself but I can’t deny the existence of a long list of vile
words that were very present in my mind. The look of pure dread came over
Randy’s face. He simply flung open his door and was gone. Are you kidding me??
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Where had he gone? The meltdown building inside of me wasn’t going to be pretty.
As quickly as Randy had disappeared he was back. He’d called his brother Kevin
and spoke with his wife Renae who was now on her way. Looking at my watch I
knew we would not make it by 10:30 but we could still make it by eleven. Brittney
simply asked “Why are we not moving?”
Renae made it to us promptly and we were yet again off to the rehearsal. We
arrived at the school in time to see Brittney’s class walking off stage. Her teacher
gently took her by the hand and went back out on stage to show her the mark where
she was to stand. Skipping back to me smiling we went back home.
With our two vehicles down it was clear that Jessie would have to drive to the
evening performance. Not only was she supportive of her grandchildren’s
activities, she was the most generous person I had ever known. She picked up our
family around six fifteen and we started off. We took the freeway this time to be
sure to arrive well before the program began. There was scarcely any talk about the
tragic car problems we’d faced that day and it was for the best. We kept our
conversation upbeat and focused on the dance recital, something Jessie did very
well.
After exiting the freeway it was a clear shot due east to our destination. The
street was a gradual hill with a beautiful view of the mountains. It was then that
the inconceivable began. We’d made it halfway up the road when my mother-inlaw’s 1979 Monte Carlo temporarily gave up the ghost. As we pulled over to get out
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of traffic not a word was spoken. It seemed as if minutes of silence went by when in
reality it was only a few short moments. I finally snapped. I was in no condition to
wait for the car to regain consciousness. To this day I’m not sure what came over
me but an inner beast was unleashed that I didn’t know existed. While Randy had
his head under the hood I kept my teeth clenched to avoid screaming! I abruptly
jumped out of the car. I went to the back door, flung it open, and pulled my son
Chad out of his car seat. I grabbed Brittney by the hand and yelled “Jessie, let’s
go!!” With determination and authority I crossed the street and began power
walking. To others watching this unfold, they may not have called it that, but I
walked as fast as humanly possible. At some point deep within my sub-conscience,
I had decided that we would make this recital, my daughter would perform, and it
didn’t matter what it took to get there. We would see her dance tonight. Every
block or so Brittney would look back and say “Mommy . . . Nanny!” pointing back at
her. It was then that I would stop momentarily and turn around and scream out
“Jessie! Come on!!” In my craziness I hadn’t factored in Jessie. What would possess
a 50 year old woman to wear spike heels to a dance recital? She was definitely a
liability. If she didn’t keep up I was going to have to unload her. Needless to say, I
was not thinking clearly.
It was at this point I realized that we weren’t going to make it. I came to a
street crossing and waited for an oncoming car to make the turn, also giving Jessie
a chance to redeem herself by making up some distance. When the car stopped in
front of me I looked inside to see a woman who had several children in the back
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seat, nursing her baby while she drove. If you can’t trust a nursing mother who can
you trust? Without thinking I blurted out “Do you know how far it is to the school?”
When she told me I was still several blocks away, I did exactly what we tell our
children never to do. I asked for a ride from a total stranger. “Could you give us a
ride?” I blurted out. Something passed between us in that moment. She had been
where I was. Maybe not frantically trying to reach a dance recital, but she also had
experienced a crazy mommy moment just like me. She agreed and I turned around
to yell at Jessie. “I’ve got us a ride – hurry up!” With all the stamina a life-long
smoker could muster she poured on the juice. She made it to the car and we loaded
in. To say it was uncomfortable for everyone is an understatement but I simply
didn’t care. As we reached the school Jessie had gotten her breath back and as she
got out of the car she kept saying “Bless you my dear, bless you!” If she had been
carrying holy water in her purse she would have sprinkled it generously on every
head in the car.
We quickly made it to the room where the dancers waited for their turn to
perform as Brittney’s class was lining up to go on stage. Reaching the auditorium I
looked around for Randy hoping he had found his own ride. We had to find the
nearest seats and settle in. Nothing short of pure joy was felt as I watched Brittney
perform wonderfully! She looked happy and knew the dance well. Jessie never took
her tear filled eyes off Brittney as she danced. A wave of relief passed between us.
Even more surprising was that Randy had gotten the car started and made it just in
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time to see his daughter dance. Who could’ve known? It was nothing short of
having all the planets line up in perfect cosmic order to get us all there.
There’s something to be said for moments of craziness spent in good company.
One look was all it took. I had accomplished the impossible. Without a second
thought she hadn’t hesitated in the least to follow an irrational woman into a
stranger’s car, all with the hope of seeing her granddaughter dance. I knew it and I
knew that she knew it, I had gotten us there on time. Now that was a great party.
Leaving the school we happily loaded into Jessie’s car and headed home, finally
without incident.