Teenage trouble

Michael Sherwood was sitting on the wall fencing his parents’ property. Life in Jamaica was pretty fun for a teenage boy. His dad had recently passed and his mom having no time to spare, found herself a new boyfriend which meant she was hardly ever home. Michael’s older brother was legally considered an adult and so he was left by their mother in charge of the house.

Their home was quite strict prior to his dad’s death and now they all had unlimited freedom, especially his mom. Having been the wife of an older man she had now the opportunity of dating someone closer to her age. Rumors were wild that she had killed her husband but she didn’t let that foil her plans. After al it was not the first time she’d been the accused of secretly killing a member of her household.

Almost twenty five years earlier she was the helper at the residence and as a young unwed mother she was offered to live in as the then mistress of the household took a liking to the young baby she bore. Soon after she moved in however the wife took ill suddenly and never lived long enough for any medical intervention. Within weeks of her death her widowed husband was in church slipping a ring upon the finger of the young live in help. This move was controversial and caused some animosity amongst the children of the deceased wife who all became estranged from their father.

The husband and his new wife wasted no time in starting a new family. Now twenty five years on with lighting striking in the same place twice, the husband was dead and the wife moving to start a new family. Her kids, like their half brothers and sister, were slowly becoming estranged from her. But despite these and other family issues the new found freedom was simply exhilarating! Natasha, Michael’s sister even found herself a boyfriend, Robert, the oldest found himself a girlfriend and Michael found himself a wing man, a harem and several followers. Children in Jamaica are exposed to and tend to participate in sexual activities quite early in comparison to developed nations. So Michael’s harem was not out of the ordinary.

His days were rather simple. He woke up, his friends having spent the night at the house would have been awake prior to his awakening or would in short order be awaken by the activities which would ensue. Each morning they embarked on a ritual of smoking marijuana and consuming as much alcohol as they could afford. All indicators of their new found liberty.

On the wall he sat watching the passing traffic on the highway, he was soon joined by several of his cronies who had gone to their respective houses to refresh their attires and now all four Patrick, Sheldon, and Stephen. Their conversations filed with childhood humor and strife, seemed to consume the hours as the slipped right on by.

While they sat there an older male who lived in the community called Carson, the village welder came walking by. As he walked, a key fell from his waistband where he kept it. The boys noticing the occurrence and knowing the vehicle to which that key belonged, quickly acted to take advantage of the older gentleman’s misfortune. They stopped him offered him a bit of weed and some liquor as a manner of distraction. Soon they had him laughing and on his way he went, leaving his key on the ground unknowingly.

After a quick vote Patrick was selected as the agent who would act out the actual snatching of the car. Within a period of roughly thirty minutes, they were driving along happily on a country road. Having the time of their lives the four smoked and drank as they journeyed along.

After an hour or so of driving and taking turns Patrick became sort of sour and began complaining he had not been given a chance to drive since stealing the car. Finally giving in to his protests, they all decided to allow Patrick a chance at driving. Patrick took his position at the steering wheel and they resumed the merriment. It didn’t take long before the group regretted giving Patrick the steering wheel, the car gained speed at an alarming rate and a look slowly took hold of Patrick’s facial muscles. The group having been in enough situations with Patrick to know what that look meant.

Patrick was the subject of extreme bouts of bad luck, the worst that could be had, Patrick had it. During moments of his descent into disaster he had a way of smiling as though he amused himself at his misfortunes. Still the car’s speed increased!

The car was previously owned by the instructor of electrical engineering at their local high school and had been the method of payment given by the instructor to the welder for some welding work completed on a dump truck. The welder Carson had done his bit to make the car structurally sound but had never had the electrical or mechanical segments addressed. The car lacked many necessary elements of which seats were included. The boys had to employ various pails as the front seats with the rear seat made of a length of plank across the tops of two old paint pails.as the speed of the car kept increasing the rest of the group kept asking to slow down. But it all seemed to fall on deaf ears, fort Patrick expressed no indication he understood what was being asked of him.

They must have been going over 150kh/h and the last curve they took all four tires screeched beggingly. “Slow down Patrick!” the pleas kept coming, Patrick kept smiling, the sped kept rising. Desperation now settled amongst the occupants as they held on to the doors to save themselves from rolling over upon navigating the corners. A stretch of street which was roughly a kilometer long was now before them and quickly coming to an end in a really tight turn.

“Yow! Fucking, slow down!” Michael yelled out.

“The gas pedal is stuck!” Patrick replied still smiling.

“What!” the other three responded almost in chorus upon hearing the announcement Patrick made. Leaning forward they could clearly see Patrick using his toes in an attempt to pry the gas pedal from the floor board where he had somehow gotten it to merge.

“Quick jump out!” they all started to yell before the doors swung open and they made good on their decision.

The four having made their escape from the death trap were now standing on the asphalt a bit battered and bruised, they could only watch as the car made its way to the end of the stretch and having no conductor to direct it into the corner rode the embankment before taking flight at a height which was in accordance with the tops of the utility poles. It traveled for what must have been thirty feet before it met face to face with mahogany tree who refused to get out of the flying cars way.

Astonished! Someone in the group screamed “oh we’re dead!” at which point they quartet turned and ran off into the bushes.