posted 10-16-2000 11:11 PM                    

Chapter 2:
To continue the story, Patrick had just been seated in George Jensen's
red Prowler sitting in front of our house. The following words are his
thoughts prior to and during the trip to the Wichita Mountains. (My
words, his dad's that is, will be in parenthesis as part of my editorial
license. His words will be his, the only modification may be in verbage).
As we were going down the street, I was wondering why his top
wasn't up. I thought to myself, hmmm, I wasn't sure about this because I
thought my cap was going to fly off later in the trip when he would be
going faster. I took my cap off when he started going faster. I could
tell by the sound of wind that we were going faster. I always go by the
sound of the wind to predict the speed of it. I took my cap off and put
it between my legs and the seat so it wouldn't blow out, if it did, I'd
be real unhappy, and it would cost the Prowler guys more to replace it
and I didn't want them to. I started to get cold and George kept offering
his jacket, but I didn't want to deprive him of it. So George turned on
the heater and I told him that I thought the wind might just blow the
heat out so he rolled up the windows and it helped some. Sure did look
funny with windows up and no top. He pointed out to me that we were
speeding and chasing a police car and I pointed out that a police car was
chasing us because of how the escort was, one police car in front and
one in back. Everybody was speeding and I sped too and I asked 'When you
hear the wurr of the other car's motors, is that your cue to speed?' I
forgot what he said to me about that. We got off of the four lane
highway and we got on the two lane road going to the mountains. When we
started to go up the mountain, George pointed out that the view was great
(it was sorta foggy down below, but you could still see the terrain
below, the lakes, beaches, trees & rocks), but I said it wasn't very good
to me, I thought it looks more like a big fall. It was scary, it was way
too far up, just like the airplane I rode in to Houston a long time ago
(he was 9, we took him there to a specialist after we were told he may
have MD). I was hoping George had good driving experience, because I
didn't want to be on the front page of the paper and in the obituaries at
the same time. But then finally we got to the top and I asked him for
his jacket, and he gave it to me. It was nice and warm with insulation
inside the arms and the sleeves kept going over my hands, it was so
loose. Every one was getting out of their cars. I thought they were
crazy because it so cold and it made me glad we weren't on Mt Everest
because the oxygen is thinner up there (I have always tried to teach him
that things can always be worse). Before we went back down, I asked
George to put the top up, and he did. We started to go down and I saw my
dad down the road trying to take pictures. I thought he was crazy
because it looked like he was close to the edge and I was afraid he would
fall off. I wasn't afraid going down, when we went down we went down in
the right lane (he means the lane closest to the mountain). When we got
down I felt like everything came back to me and I was on the ground
again. After we got down we drove to Meers to eat. (Patrick is tired and wants to go to sleep. Can I brag a minute? He's a sharp kid, isn't he??)