I still remember how "free" I felt. Finally. I was 17 years old and had a long to-do list of things I had delayed until I was plaster-free, not the least of which was getting my driver's license.
Although I had earned my driver's permit while I was in my cast, I had postponed my on-the-road driver's test because Dr. Keim said I would receive a disabled license if I took the test before the cast came off. He would know about such things, himself having only one sighted eye.
I chose to take my test in Newark because, according to my friends, the DMV folks were more lenient there, and that would greatly increase my chances of passing the test.
So, with me behind the wheel, my dad took me to the Newark DMV one brisk autumn morning before he went to work.
It had been awhile since my father had navigated the congested streets of downtown Newark, but we were doing okay until he told me to make a right. As I completed the turn we had to wait for a solid line of pedestrians to pass through a crosswalk. That's when we simultaneously saw the "No Right Turn" sign ~ and the flashing blue lights in the rear view mirror.
"Stay here!" dad said as he threw open the passenger door. The car windows were closed, but the rear mirrors provided an excellent view: my dad (in his police uniform) facing off with a very irritated Newark cop. Pointing. Gesturing. Arguing. And then, as their voices rose, audio:
"I'm taking my daughter down to get her license," my dad explained.
"Yeah? Well, she's not gonna get her license, if that's the way you taught her to drive!"
And on it went.
Finally my dad said: "Look, I'm on the corner of Northfield and Main Street in West Orange. Go through the red light there and we're even!"
He got back in the car and told me to go.
And, yes, I did pass.
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