My initial thought was that, “I’m up for anything. Bring it on.” Wrong.

Otto jumped into the driver’s seat and told us to get in back and buckle up. He then started “Old Thunder.” He revved the diesel motor a few times. The sound seemed even louder and deeper than usual. Otto glanced back at us and with a maniacal grin asked us, “Are you ready?” I’m not sure anyone could have been ready for Otto’s next move. Otto unleashed all the power in that truck and was quickly into third gear as he raced down the north side of the junkyard. As he neared the west fence, he didn’t brake at all. With the motor roaring and the tires spinning on the damp grass and slightly muddy ground, he jerked the wheel to the left and as the back end of the truck looped behind us, he jerked the wheel back to the right and the truck slid perfectly into the back row. Because of the truck’s drifting motion, he actually finished the left turn with the steering wheel turned to the right.

As all of this was happening, he was avoiding the various old racecars and other autos that he had positioned around the track. Each obstacle was placed in such a way that it only allowed for exactly enough room to pass between it and the fence or between it and a row of junk. After two laps around what was now clearly his mile and a half long racetrack, Otto pulled over and jumped out and asked, “Now, did you see how I did that?” I stumbled out, felt dizzy, and nearly threw up. I hadn’t seen anything except the fences and the obstacles and they seemed to be rotating with my head. I felt like the ball in a pinball machine. I think Emily had the same reaction as I had, but I was too woozy to pay any attention.

Finally, I caught my breath and I said to Otto, “I bet you didn’t tell our parents about this lesson.”