Finally, the big day came, and after practicing for months, I walked into the DMV that Friday afternoon to perform my driver's test. Thankfully, it all went well.
That afternoon, my parents got some Kentucky Fried Chicken in my honor, and my friends visited me that evening to congratulate me and play some card games in my room.
But all I could think about the whole time was Zack and the shop.
And I was sure it was the only thing on my father's mind as well. Any man who worked a job suspected of being used for illegal activities would be nervous. If illegal activity were found, how long would that job last? Would there be any fines? Could they be implicated in some way?
But for me, there was something more. Yes, my father's work stability worried me deeply, but I also could feel something darker approaching. I couldn't say what, but I had this constant feeling in my gut.
Friday passed, and Saturday came along. As always, I went to see Zack before lunch, but this time, when I arrived at the museum and the main office of the shop, there was someone else with him.
I walked into the room, and Zack lifted his head and greeted me. Near him, standing next to a small bench, a tall black man wearing a pair of gray overalls was closing a small plastic box. As I arrived at the counter, I asked Zack who the man was, and he told me he was an electrician hired by Mr. Vinton to install the new security system for the shop.
"He installed several security cameras, and now he's installing a door chime, which will ring every time someone comes in the door," Zack said.
"Oh, cool! So you won't have to always be here," I said, to which Zack pretended to gasp, offended.
"You don't want me here?" He joked.
"That's not what I said, silly!" I laughed, lightly hitting him on the chest. "I mean, we can now go get some food or be at your house instead of always staying here."
"I know, I was just joking," he shrugged, smiling. "It's definitely better for me. I sometimes get bored here, especially when you are not around."
I blushed but looked away and changed the subject so he wouldn't notice.
"So, where are the screens for the security cameras?" I said, looking for them.
"That style is so old news. Now, most feeds go directly to your cell phone. Occasionally, I'm supposed to check it out in case something is missing, or we think someone might be suspicious."
"Any suspects at the moment?" I jokingly asked, but he looked at me with a face that told me things were not to be taken that lightly.
"I also joked at first, but now I have been looking at the visitors' faces more often, and some tend to repeat themselves," he told me, to which I leaned closer to his phone, looking at the feed, slightly fascinated.
"Really?" I asked, thinking maybe my weird gut feeling was related to that. "Maybe someone is using this shop as a supplier."
"Maybe," Zack said. "Maybe not. Some people return because they wanna buy stuff or bring their buddies with them to take pictures."
I pulled away from his phone and placed my arms on the counter, looking at the electrician.
"This whole thing is so weirdly like out of a movie," I told Zack, then turned back to look at him. "Like one of the films you tend to like."
"Yeah," Zack chuckled, a wide grin on his face. "Honestly, I think it's kinda cool we might be connected to an illegal racing ring. The idea of being part of the action kinda excites me."
"Yeah," I said, trailing off as we both observed the man working on the security system.
Minutes passed, and as the man finally finished his job, he told Zack the system was ready. Zack opened the side door of the building and yelled at his dad to come in. Mr. Vinton then entered the room and kindly greeted me before walking over to the man and discussing how the system would work.
He then stepped out of the building and waited a few minutes before coming back in. A clear door chime rang inside the building. Mr. Vinton nodded.
"Can you make it a little louder, please?" Asked Mr. Vinton.
"Sorry, that's as loud as it goes," the man said.
So Mr. Vinton thanked the man and proceeded to pay him. As Zack's father was writing the check for the electrician, I remembered I hadn't told Zack I had finally gotten my driver's license.
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed.
"What?" Zack asked me, spooked by my yelling.
"I forgot to tell you I got my license yesterday!" I said, jumping excited and proud of myself.
"Oh, right!" Zack said, remembering he knew about it. "Congratulations!"
Mr. Vinton also congratulated me as he gave the check to the man and walked him outside.
"Thanks!" I said to both of them. "Now I can drive! Isn't it exciting!?" I asked Zack, who looked at me with a hesitant smile.
"Wait, are you mad I got my license?" I asked, worried about his expression.
"What? No!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. He sighed. "I'm just disappointed that I still have a lot to learn before I can get mine."
As Mr. Vinton returned to the building, making the door chime ring again, I placed my hand on Zack's arm, trying to soothe him.
"I can take you places if you want," I told him, trying to cheer him on. "I don't mind. We can go out and get some food someday."
Zack smiled and then raised his eyebrows as an idea popped into his head.
"What about now?" he asked me. "I got 30 bucks."
"What?" I asked, a bit nervous about driving out of the blue, "Now? like now, now?"
Zack nodded and turned to ask his father if we could go out and get something to eat.
"Now that we have the door chimes and security cameras, you don't need us, right?" Zack asked his father, who looked at both of us hesitantly.
He scratched his face and thought about it. Then he nodded.
"Alright. You can go out," Mr. Vinton told us, "but I want you to do something for me. I need you to get me new padlocks for the garage doors."
"Sure, Mr. Vinton," I said, trying to sound responsible, "what kind of padlocks do we need to buy?"
"Let me bring you one. Better get the same brand," he said, exiting the building for a few minutes.
I looked at Zack and asked him what he had in mind for food. He told me he wanted some McDonald's, and I told him I liked that choice. After Mr. Vinton came back, he instructed us to go to the Home Depot in Huntington Park to get the locks.
Zack then asked his father if we could take his car, and my eyes opened in shock and fear.
"No," I whispered to Zack, nudging him. "What are you doing, dude?"
"Come on!" he exclaimed to me. "You were great when we practiced together. You don't think you can drive my dad's car?"
"I'm scared I'll do something wrong," I told him. "I don't have that much experience with sedans."
"Do you think your dad will let you use his princess?" Zack asked me, and I remembered Mom had taken the truck that morning while helping a friend carry some furniture to her storage unit. Because of that, Dad had driven the Mustang to the shop, and there was no way in hell he would let me drive it.
I cursed under my breath and shrugged apologetically at Mr. Vinton.
"He's right. If we are driving, it's not going to be in that car."
"Fine," Zack's dad said, shrugging. I could see a slight hint of hesitation on his face, but he knew I drove relatively okay, so he gave it a go.
"Just be careful," he added, and I nodded, swearing to him that I would care about that car with my life.
"And...," Mr. Vinton told me, pointing at me with his finger.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Don't let Zack convince you to do something stupid," Zack's dad said, "I know my son, and he's seen too many of those car movies; he might try to test some things."
Zack gave him a wicked grin like his father had read his mind. "You just don't like having fun."
"You like having too much fun," His father said, ruffling his son's hair.
But I shook my head and swore I wouldn't.
So Mr. Vinton gave me his car keys and Zack his credit card to buy the two padlocks. He told his son not to buy anything else with it, or he'd get grounded, then patted him on the back and told us to leave.
We both walked pretty excitedly through the street toward Zack's house.
Unlike Zack's attempt on President's Day, I quickly pulled out the car from the driveway and moved up East 55th Street on our way to South Santa Fe. I waited until no cars were nearby and drove the car toward East Slauson Avenue.
It took us less than ten minutes to drive the car up East Slauson and into the parking lot of Home Depot, but it felt like a long time as I focused on the road while Zack blasted loud music on the radio.
We exited the car and walked through the parking lot toward the store. As we stepped into the store, Zack grabbed my hand and quickly took us through the aisles in search of the padlocks. I laughed and let him drag me until we finally found the exact part of the hardware section where locks could be found.
We picked two padlocks of the same size and brand that Mr. Vinton gave us and walked to the cash register. As we waited our turn in line, Zack asked me how hard the driver's test had been and if the instructor had been nice to me.
"Are you afraid you are going to fail?" I asked him sweetly.
"No, well, I mean...yeah," he said, ashamed. "I'm just nervous."
"You still have plenty of time," I told him, patting him on the back. "In the end, the test was easy, and the guy I got was very nice."
"Guy?" he suddenly asked me.
"Yes?" I asked him, frowning, not getting why he was asking me that. "He was very nice and patient. You'll probably get one like that as well."
"How old was he?" Zack asked as we got closer to the cashier.
I began to suspect an attempt at interrogation. So, I told Zack that the young man I had gotten for my test had been relatively young, maybe in his mid to late twenties, and his name had been Richard. I said I remember it because he had made a joke about it.
Zack said nothing as he placed the two padlocks on the counter.
After paying, we put the padlocks in a small plastic bag and left the store. As we walked to the car, Zack suddenly stopped.
"What was he wearing that day?" Zack suddenly asked, making me turn.
"Who?" I asked, looking at him, a bit confused at first.
Zack just glanced at me, and I realized he meant the young man who had taken my test.
"Just normal clothes, I guess. A shirt and khaki pants, you know, clean-cut guy. Nice looking," I said, shrugging, and then turned around and kept walking.
I knew precisely where Zack was trying to go.
"So he was good-looking," Zack said as he resumed walking.
"Are you jealous?" I asked him as we arrived at his father's car and opened the door.
"No," he said. But it was so transparent I just laughed.
"You are lying!" I said between my laughter. "You are such a bad liar!"
His mouth then slowly began to change into a shy smile.
"Get in the car," I told him, shaking my head and smiling.
We returned through East Slauson and turned right into South Soto. More accustomed to the music Zack was playing, I listened to him instruct me to keep going up the street, as the fast-food place was on East 37th, passing most of Vernon's well-known industries.
We arrived at the intersection of South Soto with Fruitland, and for a few seconds, I felt my heart beating faster. I looked at the pole in the street and started to feel the beginnings of an anxiety attack.
"Are you okay?" Zack asked, looking at my face, concerned.
I gulped and shook my head.
"It's just going to be a minute," Zack said, rubbing his hand on my leg. I would have blushed if I weren't so distracted by my distressed breathing.
I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing, and waited for the light to change. Thankfully, it was quick, and we continued our way.
We finally arrived at East 37th Street, and I expelled a long sigh of relief while looking for the entrance to the parking lot. We parked near the exit and got out of the car.
We entered the McDonald's, which was a sepia-tone concrete building. Zack asked for fries and ice cream, while I asked for a burger. We then sat next to a window on a small table with two seats. I smiled at Zack as I saw him slowly pull each French fry and dip it in the vanilla ice cream he had requested.
"Jesus, that's just gross," I chuckled, and he smiled at me.
"No, it's not. It's good," Zack said, chewing one of the fries. "It's salty and sweet. Want some?"
"No, that's weird," I refused, waving my hand, laughing softly.
Zack just shrugged and continued to eat his fries. I then moved my hand away from my plate, resting my head on it and staring at him. The truth is that I was fascinated with the boy. He was not like any other boy I'd met, although I had to admit I only knew a few, mostly the brothers of my classmates. But even they were not like him. There was something I felt was different and unique.
It was probably my own bias, as I thought he was cute.
"What about you?" Zack then asked, "Don't you think it's weird to eat a burger with no soda? Like, aren't you afraid to choke?"
"I guess not," I said.
"I think that's weird," he told me, mocking me with his eyes.
I then leaned back and rested my back on the plastic seat.
"You know," I said, looking out the window, "the day of the test, after lunch, when Mom sat to watch TV in the living room, and Dad went to take a nap, I sneaked out and drove Dad's pick-up truck."
"And your parents didn't notice?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"Mom noticed, but she didn't say anything. I think she assumed I just wanted to drive around the neighborhood to test the waters," I said.
"Did you?" Zack asked.
"Nope." I said and smiled, "I drove up to Vernon, around the places we used for practice the other day."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to try something," I admitted. "I wanted to drive fast, the fastest I could."
"Did you?"
I nodded.
"It's the coolest feeling in the world. Driving fast, focusing on the road, looking for cars to dodge."
"Did you get in trouble?" Zack then asked, curious.
"No, I just did it once and never again. Got the hell out of there fast," I told him, "but when I came back home, I could still feel my heart jumping inside my chest."
I laughed. I then leaned closer and grabbed my burger, taking a big bite.
"In a weird way, I felt something similar when we passed through Fruitland just now," I said after swallowing.
Zack sat there, looking at me for a few minutes while I finished my burger. Then, suddenly, he abruptly asked me if I could show him.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Can you do it again, for me?" he asked, a wide, wicked grin forming on his face as he bit on his last fry.
"Do what?" I asked. "Drive fast?"
"Yeah, let's do it. Let's drive fast!" He then exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down on his seat, to which I refused, shaking my head.
"No, dude!" I said. "Your dad told me not to, and I promised!"
"Come on!" He whined, "He's not here!"
"Zack, I'm not going to drive fast around Vernon again!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms, "I mean, with all that's happening, don't you think the police will be watching? We could really get in trouble, dude."
Zack groaned, irritated, but then leaned back on his chair and pouted. He knew I was right. With all the accidents happening in and around the city, the Vernon police would focus on any car that drove over the speed limit. And we wanted to avoid more attention directed toward us by the law.
"Your dad told me not to listen to your shenanigans for a good reason," I said, smiling.
Zack stared at me for a few minutes, his eyes narrowing, probably as thoughts raced inside his noggin to what he could do to convince me otherwise. Then, he tipped his head to the side and darted his eyes around like he was thinking of something.
"What?" I asked.
"Okay, okay," he told me, leaning into the table and placing his hands on it.
"What if we don't drive around the city?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused but intrigued.
Zack then told me that he had learned from going around Vernon with his school buddies that several huge parking lots were left unsupervised. He said they had once or twice parked in one in Mike's, Andy's older brother's car, to drink some beer.
"It's kinda stupid, but we wouldn't get into big trouble if we just drove around one of those parking lots," he said, shrugging. "We'll just go in, do a few laps, and then go back home."
"Dude," I said, not sure. "I don't know."
"I know you want to," he seductively told me, and I laughed because I really did. "Nobody might even know that we were there. The parking lot I'm thinking of is just across the bridge. Come on, Tammy! Let's have fun."
I wanted to drive fast again, but I was afraid Mr. Vinton would notice we had done it by looking at the tires or something.
"Just once?" I asked.
He nodded and crossed his hand across his chest.
"I promise. And if Dad finds out, it's all my fault."
I should have said no, but I wanted to do it so badly. I wanted the wind on my face and the adrenaline rushing inside my veins, so I just gave in.
So, a few minutes later, we drove across the bridge over the L.A river, up Bandini Boulevard. I had never driven around that part of the city, but it was a pretty nice place.
Zack kept looking at me, beaming like a ray of sunshine. He wanted to have fun, as did I, especially with the stressful things happening at the shop. We both wanted to distract ourselves from our lives.
After we crossed the train lines, we arrived at the section of the city that kept those giant parking lots, and I began to look for one with no security at the entrance. They were open, but many had small toll booths where guards sat and observed. Zack told me to just continue driving, as the one he remembered using was farther away.
So we drove for about five more minutes until we passed several lots, silos, and industrial buildings. We then arrived at a crossing, where on the left side was a small parking lot full of sightseeing double-decker buses.
Zack told me to turn left, saying that the parking lot was at the end of the street.
So I did as I was told, and we arrived at the end of the street, which was close to the train line, and we turned left again, looking for the entrance. Indeed, the entrance was open, and as I looked into the toll booth, nobody was inside it.
I asked Zack why that was, and he shrugged, saying that maybe at that hour, the guard went to stretch his legs, eat a snack, or maybe there was a change of guards because both times they had parked there, between all the trucks, nobody had bothered them.
A bit doubtful, I drove inside the parking lot, noting that about a dozen large semi-truck trailers were fully parked in different spots.
"So, what should we do?" I asked him.
"Just let's pick a point and do a few laps."
"How many? Five? Ten?" I asked. "Do you think we will have time to do ten before we get caught?"
"We are not going to get caught," Zack told me, trying to encourage me.
As he realized I was still pretty nervous, he said, "Let's start with five, and if nobody comes to get us out, then we do ten."
"Alright," I said and gulped. "But first, let me check the lot."
Zack nodded and said, "Sure," as there was no hurry.
I drove around and did a slow reconnaissance job, trying to see if any problems could put us in danger. I took five minutes doing a whole circuit while driving slowly. The parking lot was not full, but several trailers still covered the entire view of the place. In the end, I saw that the lot had a square 8 shape, and I could do some fun turns if I wanted to.
I returned to the entrance and told Zack to check his seatbelt, maybe even grab from one of the car's roof handles. He laughed at me, but when he saw how serious I was, he did as he was told. He still chuckled excitedly as he saw me close my eyes, dry my hands on my shorts, stretch myself, and give a huge sigh before I hit the gas.
The first lap was the hardest, as I had to remember the path inside the parking lot and make sure I didn't hit anything, but after I kept going, the energy going through me began to guide me.
I was focused on the road, but I could hear Zack screaming in joy as the car kept going faster and faster. After the first five laps were done, I decided it could be fun to do them backward. At first, I began to do so slowly, but Zack was jumping like a little boy, so I think he didn't mind that I was not going fast.
After I did it twice, I put my foot on the accelerator and did it twice more, now as fast as I could, which made my heart beat like it was about to burst through my chest.
I could feel my blood pumping through my veins, like a car's fuel going through the engine. Sometimes, I even stopped breathing before my brain told me I had to breathe again.
This was scary but so much fun. The fact that I had control of the vehicle made it feel like a rollercoaster ride. Zack definitely looked like he was in one from so much screaming that was coming out of his mouth.
Finally, for the last lap, I decided to do something I had seen in the movies Zack talked about. I wanted to know if I could drift a bit throughout the parking lot, so I came back to the beginning and drove fast until the last part of the circuit, where I let go and let the car slide to the side as it came back around.
Zack didn't even manage to scream when I did that, just grabbing the roof handle for dear life. But the drift came out a bit clunky, and when the car stopped, there was a bit of whiplash, which scared me.
We were both left speechless, breathing hard. I looked at Zack, and he gave me the biggest grin he had. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, making me burst into laughter. He then burst into laughter as well.
After a few good laughs, a deep silence fell inside the car, where the only sound that could be heard was the train in the distance. For a few seconds, I had the urge to kiss Zack. I looked at his lips, and they were dry, but I didn't care. I wanted to kiss him so badly.
Unfortunately, I would never have the chance, as we heard the faraway shouts of someone approaching us. We both turned and saw a large security guard, his face red from exhaustion and anger. He ran toward us, his fat body moving as fast as the chubby man could.
"Oh, shit!" Zack exclaimed.
I turned back and started the car again, quickly hitting the gas. I drove away as fast as possible, hoping the security guard didn't call the cops.
Minutes later, we finally arrived back at Zack's house, and he asked me what I wanted to do after delivering the padlocks to his father.
"Wanna stay at the shop?" he asked.
I thought about it and shook my head.
"Why?" Zack asked me, a bit disappointed.
The whole time I had been there that day, I felt dread exuding from the Thunderbird, and I didn't want to stay there anymore. But I couldn't tell Zack, as he would have thought I was just being silly, so I pretended to be dizzy from all the driving.
"Oh, you wanna sit on the couch at my house?" Zack asked me, "I could make you some tea to appease your tummy if you feel bad."
"You don't feel dizzy?" I asked him, curious. It was a valid question, as we had driven in circles several times.
"Not really. But I'm pretty good at riding roller coasters, so that could be it."
I smiled and rubbed his shoulder warmly. He was a weird one, that boy.
"So, come on. Let's make some tea and watch some camera footage," Zack said, opening the door of the passenger's seat.
At first, I thought of the camera footage as something silly to look at along with Zack. But it would end up signifying the end of our everyday lives and opening a whole new can of worms.