Chugg-chugg Chugging along

My father pulled the new to us Chevy Impala up next to the table where my mother, Scooter, and I were enjoying our ice cream. He rolled down the window.

“Let’s go for a ride down to Tomahawk.”

My brother and I cheered at the idea, we loved going down to Tomahawk Lake. My grandmother, Margaret Noonan Van Dyke, had been talked into buying property there in a visit the lake, get a free television, no commitment necessary deals. It was a small lot, on a steep hill, that was not a very good location for building. But, it entitled us to enter the otherwise private lake.

“Finish your ice cream first boys,” said my mother Elizabeth. “You don’t want to get the upholstery sticky.”

Scooter and I slurped down our ice cream which was quickly followed by a quick spit bath from my mother. We hopped in the car and my father cranked it to a start.

We rolled on down route 7 into rolling corn fields of Columbiana county and started down the incline that leads into Rogers.

My mother sniffed. “Do you smell something burning?”
My father drew in a deep breath. “It’s diesel fumes from the truck up ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. Diesel fumes.”