The Interesting Technology

I plunged into the front seat of the van and turned it on. Instantly I flicked both heating dials up to their hottest extent as the cold outside air soaked through my winter coat. Swiftly I backed out of the driveway and away from home.

As I had just got my license several months ago, driving the big blue van by myself still seemed strange and exciting. I grinned to myself as I turned left at the familiar stop sign, stretching my neck to see around our gigantic spiky clump of thistles lining the sidewalk.  No one was coming, so I pulled into the street beyond and picked up speed. I was on my way.

I was supposed to drive down to the forest and pick up a load of cut strawberry seeds, the farthest I had ever driven on my own. It was winter, and we wanted the strawberries ready so that we could plant them early in the spring for next year. But, since both Ma and Pa were busy, it was me who had to go get them. This promised to be exciting.  

However, after forty minutes of driving down a boring interstate highway with nothing to do but wish the heater would work better, my enthusiasm was dwindling greatly; especially upon remembering that Ma was going to bake a pumpkin pie and my siblings would probably lick the bowl without me. The few snowflakes falling on the windshield did not encourage me, for everyone back home would doubtless be outside playing in it (where I live snow is a precious and noteworthy thing indeed) and here I was, in a car, sitting down, nicely warm (well, kind of.) By the time I got home, the thin dusting of snow would probably have melted already and everyone would have gone inside for hot cocoa and pretzels.  Why, Pa might even come home early–!

I pushed my foot into the accelerator. The sooner I got home, the better.  

Pictures of decadent burgers alongside crunchy piles of fries looked down at me from lofty billboards. One billboard read “Yummy Food For You” and pictured three fried eggs and a ribeye steak. I began to get hungry. Imagining the Christmas cookies and frosting that usually occurred this time of year didn't help. Neither did the next sign, which appeared to be a very accurate representation of the perfect bowl of Pad Thai noodles.

Dismally I found myself watching the cars speeding along the opposite side of the road beyond a frosty median of grass. Three semitrucks in a row drove by, each sporting garish advertisements for the local Mc Donald's restaurants. One car had a shiny green racing stripe and a big spoiler. I stared in admiration until it passed. Half a house zoomed by on a flatbed trailer, its Oversized Load sign flying out behind it in the wind. Next came a long succession of white contractor trucks loaded with ladders and chainsaws, then a new purple Honda, then the rest of the house. A silver cybertruck kept my attention for a bit until it passed and I was left with a bunch of normal black SUVs to look at.  For a moment I was distracted by a neon yellow corvette zooming past me in the fast lane, nearly upsetting the battered little Civic in front of me, just turning into my lane. Hastily I pressed the brake as the Civic, apparently muddled, swerved slightly and slowed. The neon Sportscar paid no attention, weaving through the traffic ahead in a very superior sort of way.

A few seconds passed and the Civic wasn't speeding back up. Impatient drivers were passing us left and right, and I had a keen mind to do the same, but wait. . . The Civic driver seemed to have gotten himself together and floored the gas pedal, apparently noticing his slow movement. The little car shot forward. . . And I got the shock of my life.

The tiny, dented, scratched, and infinitely old-fashioned vehicle ahead of me had no wheels. Indeed it had no place for wheels to be; its sides were smoothly rounded where the wheel wells should have been, and it was drifting along at about the height of a normal car (perhaps held up by air?). I saw now that it wasn't a Civic, or even a Honda at all; the symbol on the back was completely unfamiliar. Its liscense plate pictured a blue starry flag and I couldn't see what state it was from. 

My mouth fell open. I promptly forgot my uncomfortable feelings toward my current situation and sped up to keep the contraption in view (it was now bobbing about in the left lane). My brain raced with possibilities, none of which seemed overly plausible. How could such a wonderful new technology have entered the car industry and I not have even heard of it? Maybe a private engineer had built it in his own yard! Maybe it was a secret project funded by the government!  

I soon ditched the government idea as I saw the vehicle swerving out of the fast lane to avoid another speedy Sportscar. Surely the government would have a more competent driver in its funded hover-craft, not someone who was acting like he had never heard of traffic lanes; for ahead of me, the floating vehicle was now drifting happily along the white line between my lane and the one to my right. I winced as the cars passing it nearly took its side mirrors off.

The vehicle was slowing, heading for an exit on the right.  I caught a glimpse of the driver--- old, white hair, long nose--- before the whole contraption slid sideways into the rush of traffic and dissappeared.  The last I saw of it was a greyish blur heading up the exit ramp.

I picked up the strawberry seeds and went home still thinking about it.  Maybe Pa had heard of a hover technology coming into the car market.  It had to be a new thing.  Newer than the cybertruck even!  I nearly burst with excitement.  What a thing to see en route to a secluded forest!  What would the rest of the family say?  

One thing was sure: I hadn't imagined it.  I had seen a hover-craft, clear as daylight, and I couldn't wait to find out more.  I needed to research this.

I got home in time for cocoa and pretzels, but Pa wasn't home yet.  The snow had stopped but an air of winter hope still clung to the window panes like the few snowflakes there.  The pumpkin pie was in the oven, smelling warm and spicy.  Winter was here.  

I never forgot the hover-craft, though I never did find out what it was and how it got to be driving down the highway one winter day.  No big car companies had produced anything without wheels and anything related to jet-packs was hard to come by and rather secretive business.  The government funding idea certainly was no help.

But whatever the thing might have been, it was an experience I'm not likely to forget, and as far as I know, the technology's still out there.  Perhaps someday you'll see one too!