And then I was on the road. I turned the car to the left, waved airily so that my tiny, faraway audience could see how well I was doing, and stepped harder on the gas until I was racing along at eighteen miles an hour.
Well, so far so good. But I recalled what I had said to Grant just before taking off--"In order to really learn to handle the car, what should I do besides just driving down the road?"
"You split an infilitive, Mama," David said reproachfully.
"Back it up, turn around in the road, pretend you're parking between two cars," Grant said.
I considered his three suggestions now. I could have done any of them to an airplane or to a steamship as easily as to our suddenly formidable automobile. I knew that shifting into reverse would make the car go backward, but I had no idea how to steer or control it under such circumstances. Well, all that was rather advanced anyway, I comforted myself; for this first time, just driving around the road, going around a few blocks and coming home would be enough.
I looked ahead on the road, trying to figure out where the first cross street was. All I saw was a huge house at the far end of the road. I hadn't realized the road ended there, but there was a house, so it must.
I drove on. The house was growing larger rapidly, much faster than it should, considering the rate of speed at which I was creeping.
Maybe the house was moving toward me, while I was moving toward it! I laughed gaily at my own whimsy, but I began to watch the house more sharply.
I wondered if the excitement and nervous strain of driving had made me suddenly delirious. That house was coming toward me.
Sweat broke out in drops on my forehead, and my palms were clammy on the steering wheel. Was this a nightmare? There was no doubt whatever now that the house was approaching me rapidly. And did I imagine it, or was there a malevolent gleam in its windows?