Somewhere in Missouri
Mom and I were in the garage, and raindrops were starting to fall onto the driveway. I was spending a lot of time adjusting the mirrors and the seat, while she stood outside the car and watched me. I hadn't driven a car in two years.

In May of 2002, I sold my car to my friend's sister. The car promptly died on her about two months later, which made me feel like shit, but I did tell her the car was sort of a problem. (I'd spent over $1,000 in repairs in the previous six months. And I didn't really have a spare $1,000 just lying around, ya know?)

Mom stuck her head through the passenger side window.

"Don't forget to close this window," she said. "Ow! Not yet."

"Where's the windshield wipers?"

"Right there. There's three speeds."

A few months after I sold my car, I got a notice in the mail saying my driver's license had been suspended. The last trip I'd taken the car on was upstate to my good pal's family's lake house for a lovely mini-vacation. On the way, some bored-out-of-his-mind local police officer gave me a speeding ticket. Jerky. I never paid the ticket—and now I was really paying for it.

But yesterday, I decided that I think I did eventually pay the ticket. So my license mustn't be suspended anymore. So I can borrow Mom's car to go see my friend, Anne.

I backed slowly out of the garage, and put on the wipers.

"Close the window!" Mom said, still dry in the garage.

Mmmm yes. Closed it. The passenger armrest was wet.

And I was on my way. I picked a radio station. I drove pretty slowly as I approached my first traffic light, and even slower at the second. The rain was picking up.

I drove past the mall and along the ridge. I heard lightning, but I didn't see it because I was trying to concentrate on the road. The green hills were flooding, and the roads were starting to drown.

About halfway to my destination, I thought about pulling over. All I could see was big rain. But I'd just moved into the left lane of the country highway, anticipating a left turn ahead. Moving back to the right to pull over didn't sound appealing, so I drove.

The Beatles' "Love Me Do" was interrupted. The radio was screaming. I don't even know how to spell the sound, but you know it: The Emergency Broadcast System. This was no test. It was in effect!

"Tornado warnings have been issued for the following counties," the announcer said. "Reports of funnel cloud formations are coming in from state troopers in the area."

I finally made it to Anne's parents' house. Anne just graduated from medical school—she's a real doctor now!—and is staying with her parents until she moves in a few weeks to a different midwestern state for her residency. I'm here for her graduation party on Saturday. I'm so proud of her.

The driveway was full, so I parked on the street. Anne's dad appeared with a red and white golf umbrella to escort me into the garage, where Anne and her mom were waiting.

"We called to tell you not to come, but you'd already left," Anne said.

My clothes had gotten pretty wet just from that short walk from the car to the house. Anne's mom insisted I take them off so she could throw them in the dryer. Always fun to be asked to strip upon arrival. They all gasped when I told them that this was the first time I'd driven in two years.

Anne's dad said, "Welcome back to the Midwest, kiddo," as we sat down and watched the unfolding drama on The Weather Channel.

"Ever think about moving back here?" he asked.

"No."

* The rain eventually slowed, and Anne and I visited her sister, brother-in-law, and new neice. The baby was born the day before my own birthday, and she has the name I'd want to give my daughter. Not that I want babies. I'm not sure I do. But if I did have one, that's what I'd call her. You know I'm not a baby person. I didn't even know how to hold her. But damn, she was cute.

* And we went to Steak 'n' Shake where I had a root beer float and cheese fries. Anne knows how much I miss those cheese fries.