The Red Dragon

Recently my husband bought a truck. It is a 1986 Chevy. He likes to refer to it as the Red Dragon. I love my husband, but the truck is quite ugly sitting outside the front of our house. It has a very Sanford and Son look about it.

My husband was aware that it had a finicky starter and was going to replace it. However, that did not stop him from announcing proudly, "I am going to take the Red Dragon to work tomorrow."

"OK, you go show it off at work." I commented. I would later find out this would involve a lot more work on my part than I could have ever imagined.

The next morning at 6:30, I check the outside temp. while hugging my coffee. Sixteen degrees! Brrrrr. Ben comes in, "could you help me start my truck?" I agree reluctantly.

"Alright Em, push down the clutch all the way."

"which is the clutch?" Have I mentioned I am not very familiar with a stick shift?

"That one. While your holding down the clutch turn the key again and again and I am going to climb underneath." He nonchalantly informs me.

"Your going to be where!?!" He ignores my comment and climbs under the truck. At this moment I am beginning to feel VERY uncomfortable. It is 16 degrees and I could potentially run over my husband. Although I must admit the idea is becoming more and more attractive by the minute. He begins the loud banging underneath the truck and I dutifully begin to turn the key over and over. As I am doing this I look around at the neighbors houses, looking so serene and dark. I am imagining them warm in their beds turning over, what is that banging! Ah yes, it is our hillbilly neighbors.

Now, one would imagine there is only one way to turn a key. You would be wrong, as I also learned. Apparently, I was turning it 1,2,3 when the correct way to turn it is 123. So now that I am properly turning the key, Ben climbs back under and resumes his banging with gusto. Despite the cold temperature I am beginning to sweat, turning the key like a maniac, please let this truck start! Ben comes out from underneath the truck.

Yes! He has given up, he is going to take the practical boring old beige 4-Runner to work.

"Em, go get the 4-Runner and pull the truck."

My smile quickly fades, this is not what I was hoping he would say. However, I comply. As he straps his truck to the 4-Runner, my throat becomes dry. Images of ripping the axle right off the truck flash through my mind.

We lurch to a start. We begin down our cul-de-sac. We are going! This is working! Then as quickly as it began I am literally jerked back to reality. I look in the rear view mirror to see if there are any car parts scattered in the road. This continues for the length of the street.

Now, we end up back at our house and he is detaching the Red Dragon from the 4-runner. My daughter runs outside barefoot to see what all the commotion is about, further cementing our position as the neighborhood hillbillies. I shew her back in as if she has walked in on something she should have never seen.

Ben stands up and announces, "Let's put those jazzercise classes to some good use! We got 'er goin' pretty good with that last run, so you push and I think that will get it started."

I agree. I wish I had a video not only of my 120lb body pushing this monstrosity down the street at 6:45, but a video of my neighbors faces that were surely pressed to the glass of their front windows unable to turn away from the spectacle.

I channeled every last inch of energy in my body to pushing that truck. I can not see anything except the giant corrugated metal sides of the truck bed. I even threw up a prayer that God please help this truck start because apparently my husband is NEVER giving up.

I hear my husband climb out of the truck. I try to hide my panting. "Let's push it with the 4-Runner now."

My entire body slumps in disappointment. Although I dutifully run back and get the reliable car. I am also very uncomfortable with this scenario as I ease the front bumper onto the back of his truck. I slowly press down on the accelerator. We head down the street and just as we get to the end of the cul-de-sac the Red Dragon roars.

My husband waves and heads off to work. I am left stunned in the 4-Runner. I begin my drive back home. I give the neighbor staring at our freak show on his driveway a friendly wave as if this is our normal morning routine.

Now many of you may not understand why I would go to so much work or even allow this truck to be parked in front of my house. This silly truck makes my husband ridiculously happy. As long as the Red Dragon is his only mistress, I can deal with what comes with it.