Pass or Fail | Lucia Kerkes

Pass or Fail

Lucia Kerkes

Creative Nonfiction

“I see that the instructor had to yell stop, what happened there? “Well, I thought that a stop sign was an all-way, but it definitely wasn't,” I admitted. “Alright, and you’ve been practicing since then?” I nodded.

“Alright. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re completely in charge of the car. Ready to get going?”

Gonna be honest, I am one hundred percent not in charge of the car, I’m not even in control of myself and my irritating shaky hands–

“Um, I think so.”

“Alright then let's both take a deep breath… and exit to the left.”

It was easy for him to stay calm. He was a nice instructor who already had his license and somehow trusted my driving skills. But me on the other hand, not so much. Due to missing paperwork and anxietyinducing stop signs that– seriously, who put those there? This was my fourth attempt to get my driver's license, and I was getting tired of being a failure.

For my very first driver's test appointment, I showed up early, and I was sitting in my aunt’s car that’s more suitable for parking than my mom’s huge minivan.

“Good luck, you’ve got this!” my mom said as she gets out of the car, and a man who looked like he ate teenagers for breakfast approached the car.

He stopped just outside the driver's window to say, “I need to see your permit and insurance.”

He glanced down, and that teenager-devouring frown turned into a curt, “This is expired.”

I scrambled to search through anything that could possibly hold an insurance card.

Okay come on, Auntie Angie, you’ve got to have something in here… ah okay a crumpled paper, maybe it's this! Are you serious? My cousin's permit? Come on! I need insurance, this guy is waiting for–

“You’ll have to reschedule, I’m not waiting any longer,” he said as he walked towards another person waiting to test.

No– wait– come back, I can find it. I can text her. Maybe he’ll accept a picture or a PDF or something–wait–

That was probably the first time in my teenage years that I cried in front of my mom. I wasn’t exactly consolable, as the reality of my situation was that the next available test within an hour of my house was going to be a wait of at least 4 months with all the covid backups and such. I had made this appointment already 6 months beforehand. And my sister who passed her test the very first time around wasn’t exactly

helpful either. And I was angry at my aunt who had lent me the car, because– how do you not check the expiration date on your insurance?

A great question that I had to also ask myself.

We scheduled the next appointment as soon as possible, for Chaska, an hour away. My first real shot to show that I can drive a car like a normal person. With posture completely straight, and sweat stains already forming everywhere despite the open windows in March, I began the mirror and seat adjustments.

Ok, let’s get down to business. Easy, it’s just a bit of driving. Let’s look both ways and back out of this parking real quick… alrighty and we are nice and slowly driving.

But within a single minute of the instructor getting in the car, most hopes for a pass were already gone.

Look both ways at this intersection… wait was that a stop sign–

I had been so focused on looking both ways that I hadn’t even seen it. Perfectly visible at the exit of the section of street parking.

“So that was actually a stop sign that you just drove through. Did you see that?”

His tone of voice was pretty calm, but I didn’t have any good explanation for what had happened.

I swear that wasn’t there before. How are you gonna focus so hard on looking left and right that you don’t see the massive octagon that's literally right in front of you? Why are you sweating so much, just chill out! This absolutely cannot be that difficult.

“...Yeah…”

Great. Great answer. “Did you see that red sign that has the word ‘STOP’ on it?” “Uh yeah actually I did, I just figured it didn’t apply to me today, you know?”

What am I doing? Just drive correctly! I mean, luckily there weren’t any cars around, but it was an automatic fail either way.

“It’s okay, do you maybe want to go get a coffee?” my mom prompted.

“I guess I could go for a consolation coffee.”

Can I just get a consolation license?

Going to get coffee is a big deal for my mom, so I knew she must’ve felt really bad for me. And I’m not one to turn down a free coffee, even if it is consolation coffee, so with me trying not to sulk in the passenger seat, we headed for the nearest coffee chain.

In my final attempt, however, I knew there would be no consolation coffee. People who take three… four…ish attempts to pass their driving tests don’t get consolation coffees after the first failed attempt. I was going for that victory coffee. The kind instructor's voice brought me back to the car.

“So how are you doing in school? Keeping busy?” he prompted.

“Yeah, the school year is wrapping up, so mostly just tests and reviews.”

“That’s good. Here, we’ll practice our uphill park, so just park here on the right.”

Okay let’s signal, look around, and steer to the curb. Careful! Don’t hit the curb, but be one foot from it…

The instructor's calm demeanor made me feel calm as well, and I kept my focus on the road.

Thank you to some higher power for an instructor who seems like he doesn’t hate teenagers or his job or both–shoutout to my second test instructor, hope she’s doing alright.

My second real appointment had been in a new city, and with a new test proctor. 7:30 am in April, Cambridge, and a grumpy lady. Already off to a great start because now along with my past failed test weighing heavily on my mind, I was about as at ease as a squirrel with rabies trapped in a cage with a vicious house cat. This time failure wasn’t an option. The first time I was going to let slide because I guess it was my first time and I was incredibly nervous. But this time I wasn’t going to let some stupid stop sign get the best of me, much less the three I had to pass just getting out of the parking lot. I went through, making sure to full stop and look around every time. Then we got to the stop sign in front of the main street.

Ok, let’s stop…we don’t need a repeat of that first test. Check both ways, ok great, and let’s keep going…

Right into the middle of four lanes of morning traffic.

“STOP!”

I braked and made sure I looked both ways and double-checked that I had my opportunity to go. Holding onto the wheel like it was the key to the cage I gave a tap on the gas.

“STOP!”

Ok. Almost getting hit by a school bus gave me a second of clarity to realize that it was as a matter of fact, not an all-way stop. I looked over at the instructor in the passenger seat. She was holding onto the door handle and the center console with the look of someone who just saw their life flash in front of their eyes in the shape of a Ford F150. Why did my driver's ed instructor tell me not to do a closed course again?

Oh my god, I’m dead. Someone, please let me out of this car, this lady is going to murder me. Well, that is if I don’t accidentally kill us both first. There’s no way I can pass. Well I mean maybe I could. Is this an automatic fail?

It most certainly was, but the instructor still made me go through five more minutes of the course; me delusionally thinking if I was perfect from here on I still had a shot. Surprisingly, almost killing your road test instructor doesn’t make her give you a license. She most definitely went home that night and told her spouse or pets how much she loved them. I went to school and had to pretend my self-esteem wasn’t crushed and any confidence in driving, driven over by that school bus.

At this point, my mom was getting tired of needing to take time off for me to fail at using a brake, and I still hadn’t figured out how to calm down. So with destroyed nails and picked-at skin, we made another appointment. Chaska again this time, and with some weeks in between to drive up there to

practice. I needed to find clarity somehow because I wasn’t in control of my nerves at the wheel. To practice, we drove around for an entire hour, with me narrating my actions and types of stop signs as we went. Last try.

I think we’re almost done, and so far I think I’m doing pretty well. Take a deep breath, you’ve got this. Ok, we stop here, full stop, look left and right, good. Ok let’s move on…ok left and right, great, still within the speed limit? Yup. Ok good, we’re all good…

“Alright now take a right into the DMV, we just have to park by that sign that says ‘Reserved for Road Testers.’”

“Right here?”

“Yup just under the sign.”

I waited for a moment while he wrote down notes and checked the boxes. Were they bad? Did I do

ok?

I think I did alright. Is that a frown? Is he frowning or just concentrating, I can’t tell. Come on Mr. Driver Instructor, I told you a minuscule detail about school; we’re pretty much best friends now. You wouldn’t fail your best friend, would you?

“Alright. You passed. See, that wasn’t that difficult? Let’s go inside and get that paperwork taken care of.”

Just like that, it was all behind me.

YEEEESSSSS! AHHHHHHH!

When I say I was elated. My mom was waiting outside the DMV for me and I could not stop smiling.

“I passed!”

She matched my whispered yell with her own, “Good job! I knew you could do it!”

All the trips to different DMVs, taking time out of school and work, and last-minute practices were finally over. I had done it. I couldn’t be more ecstatic. I had been almost ready to give up. Scared that failure meant I wasn’t good enough. But I finally did it. I persisted to overcome my anxiety and fear of failure. My previous failed tests were nullified by taking a single deep breath.

Whew. Shoutout to the nice Mr.Driver Instructor, you’re a real one.