First Car

I thought it was silver

The night Daddy drove home up Hudson Heights Hill. 

We were kneeling on the top of the sofa

Looking out the window for the surprise. 
Mummy said one was coming. 
We couldn’t wait to see what it was. 
A part of me thought it was another baby, but Mummy was with us, so that couldn’t be right. 

He drove the car up the hill
We didn’t think that was the surprise
We could never afford one of those
The fog was particularly thick that night
Only a faint outline of Daddy could be seen. 

It was him, getting out of that silver car

Out of the drivers seat!

Somehow, even in the fog, his outline seemed to smile. 

That winters night 

we knew

we wouldn’t need Hugh 

to go to Granny’s. 

No more ‘goin’ to gannies in goos gar’ 
We had our very own wheels. 

I thought Daddy made it for Mummy. 
Colt Teresa. . . I never noticed
It said Treda. 

It was green.
The next day.
Not silver. 

The fog hid the smog that night it arrived. 
The fumes were intense. Petrol smoke spilling in the back window still haunts my throat. 

It made me sick on every journey to Granny’s. 

We’d stop on the side of the road so I could vomit into a plastic bag. 

But I used to love them pushing it down and up the hill to get it going. 

Now Hudson Heights is full of cars. 

And no one needs a push. 

by Helen McNulty 10th February 2008.