Grandpa holds the key in his hand while he helps us to get into his truck. He closes the door behind us, smiles.
"Off on an adventure, I see. Don't be late for supper."
In Grandpa's truck I can see the world... well, sort of. Though I can't see over the dash, I can share, with my brother and sister, sights unheard of on this farm.
The window is too high but that doesn't stop me from peering over the door, watching the roads pass like ribbons fastened to the back of a hat. We are going to the fair. Ponies, tigers and unicorns on the carousel bounce up and down and their shadows beat against the sun-warmed truck. The cotton candy makes us sick and cranky. My brother and sister try to take the steering wheel. But they can't get it from me. I hang on tight.
We enter the desert, the wind blowing fiercely, scarring the windshield with the bursts of grit. The camels come close munching on something. But, I can't see what it is. One tries to put his head in the window to kiss me. I crawl behind my brother. He says he likes to be kissed by camels. My brother has the steering wheel now.
When I squint my eyes, the sun shines in prisms through the sandblasted glass. Colour spills onto the front seat and onto our laps.
My sister says that we're off to the Arctic, watching a walrus walk beside us. He talks in a deep voice about the joys of skating on thin ice. I get up on my knees and peer down to see if he has feet and skates. There is only snow and ice. He has disappeared.
A seal barks like a dog. He's warning us to stay in the truck because there are polar bears ahead. My brother and sister see them and tell me I should be very scared. I am.
I want to go back to Grandpa's. My sister drives us back while the road streams by. No one is hurt. Grandpa opens the door and lets us out. We run to Grandma to tell her where we've been and wonder if she was worried.
"No," Grandma said. "It is very safe in Grandpa's truck."
"Off on an adventure, I see. Don't be late for supper."
In Grandpa's truck I can see the world... well, sort of. Though I can't see over the dash, I can share, with my brother and sister, sights unheard of on this farm.
The window is too high but that doesn't stop me from peering over the door, watching the roads pass like ribbons fastened to the back of a hat. We are going to the fair. Ponies, tigers and unicorns on the carousel bounce up and down and their shadows beat against the sun-warmed truck. The cotton candy makes us sick and cranky. My brother and sister try to take the steering wheel. But they can't get it from me. I hang on tight.
We enter the desert, the wind blowing fiercely, scarring the windshield with the bursts of grit. The camels come close munching on something. But, I can't see what it is. One tries to put his head in the window to kiss me. I crawl behind my brother. He says he likes to be kissed by camels. My brother has the steering wheel now.
When I squint my eyes, the sun shines in prisms through the sandblasted glass. Colour spills onto the front seat and onto our laps.
My sister says that we're off to the Arctic, watching a walrus walk beside us. He talks in a deep voice about the joys of skating on thin ice. I get up on my knees and peer down to see if he has feet and skates. There is only snow and ice. He has disappeared.
A seal barks like a dog. He's warning us to stay in the truck because there are polar bears ahead. My brother and sister see them and tell me I should be very scared. I am.
I want to go back to Grandpa's. My sister drives us back while the road streams by. No one is hurt. Grandpa opens the door and lets us out. We run to Grandma to tell her where we've been and wonder if she was worried.
"No," Grandma said. "It is very safe in Grandpa's truck."
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