This is an open source image of a much newer RV than the one in this story. Gives you a rough idea, though. Photo credit: @frankievalentine on Unsplash.
Those of you who know me are aware my husband has been in Alaska for quite some time. Our grown daughter was injured in accident a while back and he's been helping with her recovery. This involves coping with the winter cold and darkness and her two 'interesting' dogs. On one of my visits, I wrote this story. Enjoy!
How Barbara Learned to Drive the RV
A Short Story
by Barbara Evertz Wilson
Setting: Wasilla, Alaska
Time: 7 a.m., two hours before sunrise, Winter Solstice, 2016
Ted bursts into the bedroom and shouts at Barbara, his wife of 38 years, “I need you to come with me. Pull some trousers on and get some boots.”
“What? What’s wrong?” she says, looking for a place to set her coffee cup on the table amongst Ted’s tools, trinkets, materials and debris.
“Come on, just come in your bathrobe. We have to go now!”
“The gate is open.”
Barbara meets Ted’s gaze with wide eyes. “Are they…?”
“Gone? Yes, both of them.”
Winter Solstice 2016 was the first day of “Breakfast in the Bedroom.” Barbara, an early riser, has been disturbing Dexter and Tserber while she’s been puttering about in the kitchen making coffee. Dexter is a 75 lb. Carne Corso, or Italian Mastiff. Sweet as can be, with a tail that flaps around like a kite in a storm, he loves everyone. Tserber, named after the Devil Dog mascot of the US Marines, is a walking contradiction. He’s a 160 lb. Caucasian Shepherd and is afraid of his own shadow. If you’ve never seen one, think of a St. Bernard with the jitters and you’ll have the right idea.
Both dogs spend nearly all their time on the lower level in the bedroom of their mistress, Julie. She spends most of her time down there, too, because she’s recovering from a nasty sledding accident. Although she rests a lot of time, she has trouble sleeping due to the pain and her medications. So, it’s important that the dogs are quiet.
Do they stay quiet when she’s finally sleeping? Um, no. Especially not when Barbara’s in the kitchen making coffee.
Ted and Barbara come up with a plan to help keep the dogs quiet. They move the coffee maker, cereal and other breakfast accoutrement into their back bedroom. And on the first day of this trial, the dogs are quiet and happy. Tserber is wagging his tail while Barbara prepares her Breakfast in the Bedroom.
Even though it’s still dark out, Ted’s awake, too, looking at his phone. “This might be a good chance,” he says. “Forecast is for clear skies.” The chance he’s talking about is for Barbara to see the Aurora Borealis, a long-time item on her bucket list. However, the ranking on her bucket list slipped quite a bit when she realized it meant driving two hours in the middle of the night to get away from the light pollution and then sitting in the dark and cold hoping something will happen.
But that morning, it was…well, morning. And still dark. “Do you want to go out?” Ted asks.
Barbara takes a breath and says, “Hmm, I haven’t had breakfast yet and the dogs are quiet. I don’t want to upset the apple cart.”
“We can take the RV and you can eat your breakfast there,” he says, adding that we can stop first at one of the few places near the house where you can see it.
Barbara resists. Without coffee, food and her medication for MS, she’s not inclined to go out.
“OK,” says Ted. “I’ll take the dogs in the RV – they love the RV – and drive over there. If the aurora’s out, I’ll come back for you.”
She’s happy with that plan and returns to her breakfast, pouring a bowl of cereal and adding fresh raspberries and some milk she’s kept in a cooler overnight. No sooner does she take one bite of cereal when Ted is back inside with the terrible news that the dogs are loose.
Neither of them wears a collar with tags that have their names and the owner’s phone number on them. Plus, Tserber is so skittish, he won’t come when he’s called.
Lovely, just lovely.
Barbara pulls yoga pants up under her bathrobe and shoves her feet into Julie’s wooly boots by the door. As she goes down the slippery porch steps, she hears Ted say, “You drive the RV. I’ll go on foot and see if I can get them to go in it.”
Barbara does not like to drive in the dark.
Barbara really does not like to drive when it’s dark and icy.
Barbara really, really does not like to drive when it’s dark, icy and in a huge vehicle she's never driven before.
Nevertheless, she pulls her big girl panties up and agrees. Step one: get in the RV. But can she climb in the door on the driver’s side? No. This is not any ordinary RV. It’s a 1992 Rockwood. That’s 199 TWO. As it’s now winter solstice 2016, that makes it 24 years old. She can’t get the door open and she’s not sure if anyone else can either. The only other option is to enter through the side door and climb over to the driver’s side. So she hauls herself up the stairs (without hand rails) and manages to settle in.
As the RV is already running (Ted was trying to warm it up), step two is find the brake and put it into gear. Not as easy as it sounds. Both pedals are in unexpected positions and she needs a flashlight to find them. Ted then latches the side door open so the dogs can jump in – removing any chance Barbara will not be an ice cube before long.
And then…we're off. Barbara follows Ted down the icy lane to the road. After only a minute, they see the dogs. Dexter comes when Ted calls him and actually hops in the RV for a minute. (Good dog!)
Tserber looks at Ted with a doggie smile on his face and takes off. (**&#$& dog!)
With exasperation apparent in his stride, Ted comes back to the RV and recruits Dexter to help him track Tserber. He also tells Barbara, “Go around the block and go back to the house and get their leashes and collars.”
Sounds like a plan so off Barbara goes into a residential area to turn the RV around without having to back up. At the first street on the left, she turns in but doesn’t notice the No Exit sign until after the back end of the RV has begun to round the corner. Shouldn’t be a problem, there’s a big cul-de-sac so she can just swing around. The RV rolls forward down the icy road and Barbara knows, like really knows, this thing is heavy and she needs to slow down.
But slowing down requires brakes and she can’t find them. She pushes and jabs her right foot all over the floor board. Gravity takes over the RV moves more quickly toward the houses at the bottom of the hill. Barbara thinks she is going to die and wonders how many houses she’ll take out in the process.
Through panic and with blood pulsing in her ears, Barbara realizes that her MS is making it impossible for her to feel the brake through the boot on her right foot. Brain immediately engages left foot which hits the brake right away.
She puts the RV in park and just sits still for a couple of minutes while her breathing slows.
Now for a seat belt. She needs a seat belt. Where’s the damn seat belt? She paws and searches and grabs for things that might qualify. There is nothing along the left side of the door frame that is a seat belt. Are there no GD seat belts in this thing? Ah, ha, along the left side of the seat is a latch-thingy. It’s a lap belt with the other end along her right hip.
Now, to get going again. Using the handheld light Ted gave her, she scans the steering column to see if by any chance she could drive with her left foot. Not gonna happen. For reasons she doesn’t understand, there is a big something-or-other in the way. Solution: remove right boot and drive barefoot. (BRRRR)
And she makes it back to the house safely. (Hooray!) And discovers another problem, one of her own making. When she yanked the right boot off, she tossed it into the back of the RV, and of course, she can’t find it. With one bare and one booted foot, she stumbles around the RV trying not to break her neck.
Boot found eventually.
With leashes and her own coat, hat and gloves and better shoes, she drives the RV back to the road to look for Ted and the dogs. They’re nowhere to be found.
From this place in the road, the only way to turn that honking huge vehicle around is to drive through a 4-way stop and turn into an ice covered parking lot. Feeling a bit nervous about encountering other vehicles, all turns, including those on the ice are navigated successfully.
Barbara still has not found Ted so she pulls over to the side of the road and puts the RV in park but somehow has lost a glove. Oh, but there it is – just behind the passenger’s seat. RV’s in park, right? No reason she can’t reach over and get it. And just when things seem to be calm, the RV starts to roll backward, off the road and into a gully. As luck would have it (and Barbara needs all the luck she can get), the angle of the gully keeps the back wheels from rolling any farther.
Ted turns up and so does Dexter. He’s cold (the dog, that is. Ted’s cold, too.) and they sit in the RV for a while. Ted had previously been using a whistle (as in a little metal training tool) to call him. Tserber will come to it, when he’s in the mood and not scared of anything. This is not the kind off whistle where the pitch is above human hearing, it’s a whistle that makes a tweet-de-tweet sound. But somehow in the chaos, it’s gone missing and Ted can’t whistle. Barbara can, so they decide to roll down the window on the driver’s side so Tserber will hear it. (N.B. window still open as this story is being written. It will not close.)
Eventually, Ted breaks down and calls Julie to tell her Tserber is out. But not before they’ve searched other roads and Barbara has backed the RV around a corner by looking at the rear view camera and following Ted’s directions.
Once Barbara makes it back to the house with Dexter in the RV, Julie whistles and Tserber comes running.
And that’s how Barbara learned to drive the RV.
Barbara (Mother) Wilson is a writing coach for aspiring authors. She'll keep you and your book moving toward publication. Don't ever quit!