Who am I kidding? If I’m going to be honest, I’ll admit that Trip proved to make my life less of a trial and more of an adventure!
Week Two of our film collaboration had us trying out the pilfered camera for the first time. It took us a little longer than expected to learn how to use the clunky thing, a task that probably would have been made much easier had I thought to grab the accompanying User Guide during my heist. But after affixing the camera to my father’s tripod (also “borrowed”), we managed to get off some very educational test shots of Trip doing cannonballs in my pool. It was at that point that I realized Mason wasn’t going to be grading me on my ability to watch Trip Wilmington strut around my backyard in his swimming trunks. I wouldn’t have traded that sight for a 4.0 if my life depended on it, but I knew we’d eventually be expected to do some actual work.
Week Three, we decided we were going to need to learn how to edit our film (that we had yet to start shooting). It was my brainchild to “borrow” Bruce’s VCR and rig it up to mine. With some advice from Roger Vreeland at the AV club, we (legitimately) borrowed some of his cable wires and spent the better part of our afternoon getting the primitive editing station set up and running. We’d practiced splicing our films by playing the raw footage in one VCR while recording selected scenes in the other. But after about an hour of this, Bruce came home from football practice and confiscated his VCR from Trip and me, leaving us back at square one.
Before I could risk the implications of “borrowing” another tape player from my father’s room or the den, Trip came up with a way to hook the camera directly into my VCR. That system turned out to be way better than our original one, so we thanked Bruce for his inadvertent help by spending the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, baking him some chocolate chip cookies.
The following Thursday was my birthday.
Chapter 12
POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE
I woke up before dawn, a bundle of nervous energy, and hopped right into the shower. My appointment at the DMV wasn’t until ten o’clock, but I didn’t want to be a minute late. My father had agreed to let me play hooky from school so that I could go down and take my driving test. I’d waited seventeen whole years to get my license and there was no way I was going to wait an extra minute.
My dad knew that I was excited, but he was still surprised that I had gotten up as early as I did. I met up with him in the kitchen, where he was sitting at the table with a coffee and hidden behind the Star Ledger. He lowered the newspaper just enough to peek over the top.
He gave a quick glance toward the clock on the stove and said, “Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was someone’s birthday.”
I kissed him on the cheek and said, “Not just any birthday, Dad. It’s someone’s seventeenth birthday.”
He pretended to have forgotten. “Is that so?”
I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and answered, “Yep.”
As I was pouring juice into my glass, Dad said, “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I bought this.”
I looked over my shoulder to see him sliding a small, square box toward the center of the table.
The box was black velvet and sporting a little pink bow on top. I didn’t know if it was on purpose, but pink and black were my favorite colors.
I pulled out a chair and joined him at the table. “Is that for me?”
Dad folded the paper and laid it next to his coffee mug. “Nope. It’s for Bruce. You know how much he likes the color pink.”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing. “Can I open it?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
“Dad...”
“Yes, of course. Go ahead.”
We were both giggling as I cracked open the velvet jewelers box. Inside was a small, gold medallion on a thin chain.
“Oh, how pretty! Wow, Dad. Thanks.”
I started to lift the necklace out of the box as Dad said, “It’s a St. Christopher medal. The patron saint of travel.”
I could already tell where this was going as he added, “I was hoping he could watch over you every time you get behind the wheel and keep you safe.”
I don’t know why, but I started to well up. I was able to hide my teary eyes under the guise of lowering my head to put the necklace on. I rubbed my fingers over it and said, “It’s perfect. Thank you, I love it.” And then, to avoid getting too sappy, I added, “Wow. You must have some pretty strong faith that I’ll pass my test today, huh?”
Dad shook his head. “Don’t need faith today, Layla-Loo. You’ve got this one in the bag all on your own.”
At that, we high-fived and I got up in search of some breakfast.
After Dad left for the office-assuring me that he’d be back to pick me up by nine thirty-I was left to eat my cereal in silence.