Rez Car, Sweet Rez Car

Our car was funny as far as rez cars go. When we came to a stop it blew a smoke screen out the back and made the cars behind us disappear. Mom said it was magic, watch this she would say to my little brother and sister. They would watch out back and laugh as the car behind us disappeared. I was in junior high school, 8th grade. And I would walk to school rather than have my mom give me a ride. I know it hurt her feelings. She did odd jobs here and there and we never had money. Our clothes we got for free from the church and they sucked. But I found being a loner at school worked for me. Then I could pretend I didn’t give a fuck when I really did. Our rez car, my mom took extreme pride in. She was always under the hood, changing spark plugs, boosting it, cleaning battery cables. She knew more about cars than any boyfriend she ever had. She kept the big beastly thing going. She kept it clean. Our reservation is poor, so it was not the only a rez car, but it was ours. Because other than staying with this grandma or that aunt or if my mom found a boyfriend for a month or two. Our rez car was the only home we had while we waited for my mom’s name to come up on the housing list. She was number 78 on the list.

#EveryDayInMay writing challenge for the On The Warpath Women Writing Challenge. Today’s theme was “rez car.”

Ain’t gotta lie to kick it

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Rez Car, Sweet Rez Car

  1. We had a rez car… in the city of Spokane, WA. A ’79 Monte Carlo. Ingashiban didn’t really know much about cars, though. She relied on my brother to keep it up and running, which he wasn’t great about. The door wouldn’t close, unless you were outside pushing it in. Often, the car wouldn’t even start unless you stuck a pen or pencil in the lil carburator hole on top of the engine. Sometimes, the car would just stop running (mostly at stop lights), then we’d have to run out, stick a pen in the engine, get back inside, then get back out slam door shut, then climb back in through window… *sigh* Memories…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s