Is It Going To Be You Tomorrow?

forget me not series – The Romance of Ayin & Will

CHAPTER THREE

In life, it is easy to go on a limbo*.

Round and round, we tend to only orbit and gravitate towards certain kinds of people, our norms and what’s familiar. After all, we are creatures of habit.

That is until a bigger force, like a new dream or a falling star, manages to touch our lives, setting us on a different path or new direction.

In Physics, this is what we know as the principle of inertia.

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At a quarter to 3pm on a Monday, she alternated between pacing on the balcony and gazing out on the street, trying to calm the butterflies on her stomach.

In just a few minutes, she will finally embark on one of a woman’s life-changing rites of passage – learn how to drive.

“Do one thing that scares you everyday,” she repeated the mantra in her head.

She figured that if she ever was to do this in her life, now was the best time since she had no other commitments.

She has donned her most comfortable outfit — slightly tattered denim cutoffs, an oversized pale pink T-shirt with a washed up cartoon character on the front, and old sneakers. Unflattering, she knew, but at least she can easily move to shake off her nerves, and even run if needed.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds to condition herself, “You will do this. You will, you will…”

Just then, her phone beeped with a text message: “I’m here – Will of driving school.”

Here meant the roadside open parking lot of the commercial complex beside her house. Her driving instructor has arrived to pick her up.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her small backpack and went down. “It’s now or never.”

As she entered the parking lot, her eyes fell on a subcompact car in champagne gold with a big yellow sign on the butt that says ‘Caution: Student Driver’, along with the driving school’s name and contact details.

She smiled slightly, “At least the vehicle looks cute and not at all intimidating.”

Walking towards it, her eyes moved to the man casually leaning on the side of the cute car. To her surprise, he looked pleasantly younger than the 50-ish typical driving instructor she had pictured in her mind.

He was wearing a black cap, a plain white shirt, full-length jeans and closed leather tan sandals trending among men at that time.

She was about to appreciate his good looks when her eyes fell on the single white towelette hanging carelessly on his shoulder.

Tsk, a turnoff, she thought. For her, towels and towelettes along with its cousins, bathrobes and pajamas, should always stay in the house.

She looked up and couldn’t read his eyes. They were hidden behind dark sunglasses, a protection against the glare of the afternoon sun.

She stopped about two feet away from him and extended her hand, with a smile, “Hi, I’m Ayin.”

He straightened up, shook her hand firmly and smiled back, “I’m Will.”

He was about a head taller than she was, so he must be at 5’8. She wondered how old he was.

“Any experience in driving or are you a beginner?” he asked her while going to the driver’s seat.

She took her time answering, walking to the other side.

What could she say? That she had been practicing last month with her father, which just ended in a shouting match and the tearing of the clutch lining of his beloved Pajero after three sessions? Since then, her father had told her to go find a professional to teach her.

Or is it considered experience when she finally shifted to her sister’s automatic car, driving on empty roads along sugar cane fields in the province at a maximum speed of 20kph? She grimaced when she remembered that she slightly bumped the car along a gutter, too, when she mistakenly accelerated on reverse instead of driving forward.

Nah, better keep these experiences to herself.

“Let’s just say I don’t. Treat me like I know nothing,” She finally answered as she sat down on the passenger seat. He chuckled as if he knew what was going on in her mind.

Inside the car, he took off his eye shades and leaned over to put it in the glove compartment.

She caught a whiff of man, soap and a hint of cologne. She breathed in the fresh, woodsy and earthy scent that made her think of greens after the rain and early morning leisurely walks in the forest.

At least he smells good, she thought as she settled in her seat.

“Let’s put your bag at the back,” he offered.

She looked at the back seat and saw a neck pillow along with a bookmarked Tom Clancy paperback. “Yours?

He nodded and said, “Though it’s been weeks since I’ve been trying to finish the book.”

He placed the bag at the back seat, then turned to look at her expectantly.

Confused, she asked, “What? You want me to drive now?”

He laughed, “Not yet. Your seat belt, please.” Oh.

Only when both their seat belts were fastened, did he start the car. He immediately began to show and explain the basic controls and functions of an automatic transmission unit while slowly driving towards an open area in the city several blocks away.

She listened attentively to his low, steady voice, and was tempted to jot down his every word on her notebook.

But before she could reach for her bag, he announced, “We’re here. Are you ready to try now?”

Her heart, previously lulled by his 20-minute lecture, started to pound.

He clicked open the door on his side.

“Wait, wait… we’re going to switch places now?” she blurted in alarm.

“Yes,” he winked at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

His twinkling eyes did nothing to settle her nerves.

Refusing to be tagged a coward, she swallowed her fear and slowly went to the driver’s seat, while he disappeared at the back to take something from the trunk.

Driving in almost empty roads in the province was one thing; doing it right smack in the city was something else, she thought anxiously.

He came back to her view with several plastic cones on hand. She watched him through the windshield as he lined these up into two rows in front of the purring car.

She has at least a minute to calm down. To distract herself, she swept her eyes through the surrounding area, looking for possible obstacles she might bump into. You know, just in case she forgot to hit the brakes or something.

To her far right, she noticed for the first time another car with her driving school’s signage practicing the slalom maneuver with a male student.

As he had explained earlier when he laid out the driving exercises to be performed, a slalom is a bunch of cones laid out in a row and the idea is to drive on the left of the first cone, then on the right of the second cone, then on the left again of the third cone and so on.

She watched in fascination as, just then, her own teacher jogged to them.

With a commanding stance, he spoke briefly to the other instructor, then pointed for him to adjust the distance and angle of their cones accordingly.

He observed them steer for a moment before turning and jogging back to her.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he slid back on the passenger seat. “He’s my newly-trained instructor and I have to correct him as early as possible.”

Surprised, she asked, “You own this driving school?”

He nodded.

“How old are you?” Her next question was out before she could stop it.

“Thirty-eight.”

Hmm, five years older than her.

She was a journalist in her previous life, before she ventured into hotel pr & marketing, and her inner chismosa, which she’d like to filter as dormant interviewing skills, took over.

Her, “When did you start your school?”

Him, “Five years ago.”

Her, “Do you have a partner?”

Him, “No.”

Her, “How come you’re the one teaching me now? Aren’t you supposed to be managing your business instead?”

Him, “Normally, I don’t teach anymore. But one of the instructors is absent today. I sub when that happens.”

He added with an amused voice, “Actually, I think our secretary put me to work just to get me out of the office. She’s in charge of all our schedules.”

She grinned. She knew that secretaries have always been the real power behind admin offices. That’s why you never overlook them during PR calls.

Her, “What else do you do when you’re not on the field?”

Him, “My focus right now is assessment… and training instructors. I also develop the school’s driving modules and improve it from time to time. I like teaching the best, though. I was an instructor for four years before I put up the business.”

Wow, what timing to be taught by the owner who developed the training program himself. An honor but double the pressure, too. What if she was a slow learner? She gulped.

Her, “How did you start? Are there many challenges in this business?”

“Whoa,” he laughed. “That’s a long story. Enough questions. Another day. Right now, we need to practice your steering. You’re not just delaying this, are you?”

He pointed in front, “See those cones? We have a lot of exercises to execute and time’s running. So, let’s start.”

“Slave driver,” she muttered under her breath.

Before she could delay with another question, he laid out the instructions for her to follow.

“Do you remember your brake pedal?” he asked.

She nodded, testing it.

“Good. That’s the most important. Even if you forget everything else, you must at least remember the brake pedal. Your accelerator?”

She tested it as well, more cautiously this time.

“Okay, just move slowly and brake when I tell you.”

Then, he said, “Try turning the wheel to your right…. then left… Oops, just slowly.” His left hand moved to assist her and readjusted the steering wheel.

“No need to turn it so much. Just relax your grip and turn gently. See that?”

She nodded.

“Most cars nowadays are power steering, so no need for us to pawis steering,” he quipped and grinned at her.

She chuckled at the joke and relaxed a little.

For the next 30 minutes or so, they practiced turning left, turning right, the figure 8 and slalom maneuver.

To her chagrin, she kept hitting the cones. She stopped counting after the 5th time.

He never raised his voice, though. “That’s okay. Keep going. Practice makes perfect. Another round, go.”

With his shades back on, he coached from outside the car, ever ready to put the abused cones to rights whenever she misaligned them.

What a patient man, she thought. He must be truly dedicated to be able to withstand this kind of tedious work.

Slowly, but surely, she got the hang of the wheel.

Finally, he called out, “Good job!”

She was exhilarated. She couldn’t believe that she made a perfect Figure 8 in her last two tries, with all cones still standing.

She sat there, congratulating herself, while he collected all cones and returned them to the trunk.

She was about to get up and go back to the passenger seat when her instructor opened the door and sat back on it. She stayed put.

She beamed at him, “You’re an amazing teacher! If it were my father, he would have been shouting and we’d be fighting by now.”

He laughed, “Let me tell you a secret — you’re not alone. You and so many of our students. When it comes to driving, we always advise to avoid having your father, husband or boyfriend teach you. They care about you the most and can easily sense your fear, which in turn, enhances their own fear. When afraid, the tendency is to shout or scold.”

“Better let a third party do it,” He added cheekily, “We’re paid not to shout, anyway.”

She grinned at him.

He looked at her for a moment, then said, “Ready to take this on the road? You drive going home.”

Her smile slipped several notches as she felt her heart drop to her stomach. “What? You mean right now? You want me to drive on the main road where all the jeepneys, trucks and crazy drivers in Cebu converge? At rush hour?” she babbled. “I’m not ready!”

“You’ll never be perfectly ready. The trick is to just do it,” he said patiently. “Besides, I’m here and I have my own brake. See?”

True enough, there was another brake pedal at the foot of the passenger side. “I won’t let you get out of control,” he said.

She sat there, breathing in and out for several seconds, not saying anything.

“Come on, we still have another 30 minutes before your session ends. We just practiced your steering. Let’s strike while the iron’s hot.”

She gave him a look at his dramatic use of the English idiom. She knew he was trying to be funny to calm her down.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “You promise to pay attention and brake when needed?”

He raised his right hand and answered solemnly, “I promise.”

Then, jokingly he added, “Though it makes more sense if you be the one to brake since you’re the driver.”

She gave him a disgruntled look that said, don’t mess with me.

Gathering all her guts, she shifted to drive and steered the car in her home’s direction.

In his characteristic steady voice, he instructed, then placed his left hand lightly on the lower right side of the wheel as a precautionary measure. He was careful not to touch her.

From time to time, he would say, “Stay on your lane,” “Check your mirror,” and “Eyes on the road.”

She followed it all quietly, nervously, yet persistently as a mouse.

To put her at ease, he picked up the conversation while waiting at a red light. “So, why choose our driving school? Where did you hear about us?”

“My sister recommended you to me. She was also a student last year.”

“Why take up driving now? Are you planning to buy a car?” he asked.

“I’m thinking of…” she suddenly stopped mid sentence as the traffic light turned green. “Shhhh… it’s green, it’s green. Don’t talk, don’t talk. Eyes on the road, sir.”

From the corner of her eye, she could sense his amusement.

When she finally entered the parking lot of the commercial complex where she was picked up, they switched places for him to park the car properly.

When the car came to a stop, they looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“How do you feel now?” he asked her.

It was the most nerve-wracking 20 minutes of her life, but more than that… “I did it! I can’t believe I drove myself home in the city!” She squealed.

In that moment, she wanted to hug him, or anybody else for that matter, so happy was she in unlocking this achievement. But she restrained herself in time knowing it wasn’t appropriate at all.

She couldn’t stop gushing though. He just sat there nodding and smiling at her and letting her babble her heart out in excitement.

When she paused for air, he told her, “Good job, you’re ready for your next session.”

“Is it going to be you tomorrow? I mean, are you still my instructor for the second session?” she asked.

“Probably not. This car’s assigned instructor will report back to work tomorrow,” he said.

Disappointed, she tried once more, “Can you just be my instructor until I finish my program? Please? I like the way you teach.”

He answered with a laugh, “That I do not have power over. The scheduling is out of my hands. Better to confirm with our secretary.”

He continued to assure her, “Don’t worry, all my instructors follow the same program given by me per session. You’ll be in good hands.”

She was tempted to pout, but she didn’t push it. She was still buoyed by her recent achievement.

Nothing can mar her joy in that moment. She conquered her fear and was able to drive home. Suddenly, she was positive that if she can learn to drive well, she can also tackle whatever new path ahead of her. With this new skill, she felt she was stronger and more alive.

New life, I’m ready for you, she thought.

Clicking the passenger door open, she turned to look at him. “This is goodbye, then. Thank you so much. It was fun. I will definitely recommend your school to my friends.”

He touched the tip of his cap and nodded to her in goodbye, “Thank you, too! Have a good night.”

And that she did. With a light smile, she skipped towards home ready to brag to her sister or to anyone who would listen about her new driving skill.

Not for long, she will be part of a universal group of women she’s been secretly envious of and intimidated by — the W.O.W. (Women on Wheels) club.

Call it childish, but she believed that a woman can take better charge of her life when she knows how to drive.

For with it, you can go places, and she was ready to do just that.

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*Limbo – a place where you are waiting for something to change, a state where you uncertainly await something important, such as a decision about your future.

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