The White Ghost

I drove back from Houston last night, got a very late start so it was a hard drive.  It was after 6 before I cleared the north side of the city, so it was well after midnight before I made it home.  I did a lot of flipping radio stations last night, and at some point I hit a station that played a lot of late 70s / 80s / classic rock stuff.  It reminded me of something that happened when I was back in high school - one of those memories that sort of helps define a time in your life.

I had one of those friends in high school who was an absolute confidante and soul mate.  You know, the kind that you talked to on the phone at least an hour every single night, and three hour conversations weren't unusual.  Which meant that you never got enough sleep, but it was totally worth it.  I couldn't imagine my life without him, and it almost took my breath away to think there would be a time in my life where I wouldn't be able to talk with him daily. 

Anyway.  One night he was at my house and it was time for him to head home.  I told my mom that I'd be back in half an hour and I drove him back to his house in my car.  This was probably around 10 that night I'd guess.  We sat outside his house in the car, finishing whatever conversation we'd started, with the radio going.  Whatever station it was got on an absolute roll with the music.  We're talking Styx, Elton John, Billy Joel, Eagles, Journey, all sorts of stuff that just makes you want to sit in the car and listen to what's coming next, especially at that point in your life.  (See, this was the early 90s, the days before Ipods and easily writeable CDs and mp3s.  Some of that might have existed, but all I had was maybe a 1 disc player and a bunch of cassettes.)  So guess what we did - we sat in the car, listening to what came next, singing to all these killer songs, and talking when we weren't singing.  Our lives were on the cusp of change, college was looming, friendships were changing, and I suppose this was our way of making sense out of the tumult that high school is.  That night is one of my clearest, and probably one of my very favorite, high school memories.  For a few hours, all that really mattered was whatever important topic we were discussing, and what the next song on the radio was going to be.

As we sat out there, not quite ready to call it a night, it got later and later and later (imagine that) ... and the next thing we knew, there was a white car that oh-so-slowly pulled into his cul de sac, inched by my car, turned around in the cul de sac, and headed back the way it had come.  (Again, early 90s, well before we all had cell phones.)  It was my mom's car, and it was well after 1 am, and MUCH later than the half hour I had told her I would be gone.  Did I mention that I was still in high school?  Would it matter if I said that this guy and I really were just awesomely good friends?  Yeah.  Looks good, doesn't? 

He got this stricken look on his face, nearly gave himself a concussion getting out of my car (he was tall, I had a small car), and sprinted into his house, probably petrified that someone was going to come after with him with a shotgun.

I started the engine and drove home.  My parents were pretty reasonable and I rarely gave them reason to question what I was doing.  Still, the whole situation just looked bad.  My mom was still up and she explained that she was concerned that I hadn't gotten back after an hour or so and wanted to make sure I was safe.  I promised to try not to do that again, and that was the end of it.  Again - one of those events that reminds you that you are getting older and your life is about to change as you get more and more freedom to make your own choices.

When I saw him the next day, he said he had had nightmares all night about my mom's car, which he dubbed The White Ghost, and wondered if my parents had a contract out on him yet.  Of course they didn't, and of course it was all fine and time moved on and our conversations got less frequent and less in-depth and eventually nights like that didn't happen anymore.  But I'm so glad we had The White Ghost to remember that night by, and to help me remember what it was like to be 16 and on the cusp of my life.

A few years later, we managed to kill The White Ghost on a drive across the country for a ski trip.  But that's another story.