“What happened?” I asked, gushing out of my friend’s house upon hearing a loud screech and bangs. It was already nearly 11 o’clock at night.
“That car driven by that couple of teenages, rammed into A’s. Over there!” my husband pointed his fingers to our friend’s vehicle, parked neatly over the ample kerb.
I saw two teenagers, one a girl and another a boy, standing at the far corner of the spot, their faces very sour.
“How did this thing happen?” asked our friend A’s eldest daughter Z, who was already outside the house before me. With her, her young daughter, her younger brother-in-law and her own younger brother, snapping away with his digital camera at their father’s ruined car.
Z’s father was in Kuala Lumpur (KL) while her mum, my old friend, was recuperating at home after undergoing a major operation just a few days before.
The back of A’s continental car was hugely dented, its tail lights broken, the splinters spilling onto the ground while the front part was crushed into a lamp post. The other car was a total wreck with about a third of its front portion all tangled up.
“I think your car is only worthy to be sent to the scrap yard. Its chassis too may be badly affected. You two have driving licenses?” said my husband to the teenagers.
The two shook their stone-faced heads.
“What were you thinking?” asked my husband.
“I lost control while trying to avoid another incoming car,” the girl said.
“Another car? There wasn’t any. I saw what happened,” my husband muttered, looking at me. I could sense that the girl was trying to tell a lie.
“And what were you two doing?” I asked, with a frown on my forehead.
“We were trying to learn how to drive,” said the girl, again trying to tell a lie.
“Listen here, young lady! People take driving lessons at a valid driving school during day time to learn driving, not at this time of night!” I said.
Then, out of concern, my husband asked again, “Have you called your parents?” His right hand was pointing to a car sticker, with a symbol of the police department on the front shield of the vehicle.
Only then did the girl start to play her fingers on her cell phone.
“Both of you still studying?” I asked.
“Fifth form this year,” said the boy, standing with his legs fidgeting.
“Which school?” I continued asking.
“That school nearby,” he said, his fingers pointing to an area at the back portion of the housing estate.
“Whose car is this?” asked my husband.
“My father’s,” said the boy.
“How come the girl was driving it?” asked my husband.
Again, the stone faced looks from the two teens.
“The girl was driving too fast, right at that junction over there while she should have slowed down and stopped before moving on. She hit this stationary car belonging to A and the momentum caused it to veer forward, hitting the lamp post. Costs incurred, easily aaround RM 10 K for A’s car while the boy’s car might go up to between 30 till 40 K!” said my husband out loud.
“I hope you have learnt your lesson? And you learnt the hard way. Next time, no license, no getting behind the wheels. Please remember that!” I started.
A little while later, a car arrived. The driver who was a lady, parked quite a distance from where we were standing.
“Oh! My God!” said she, trying to calm herself down by rubbing her right hand on her chest, “I told her she can’t drive when she wanted to use our car to go out. And now, this thing has happened. I will pay for all the expenses incurred,” said the lady. I held out my hand to hers, trying to sooth her.
Just then, another car stopped at the nearby roadside.
A man with bits of sweat clearly seen on his forehead got out. He said, “Oh my god! I am not well and my head is throbbing so bad,” as he walked up and down the two wrecks.
“This must be your car?” said my husband.
“Yes!” said the man.
“I am sorry to tell you this. But it wasn’t your son driving it!” said my husband, trying to sound candid.
“Tell you what I will do! I will report that
I was the one who drove the car when the accident happened. Easier to claim for insurance,” said the man, wiping the sweat on his forehead.
“I do not want to know whatever you want to do or how you do it. I am more concerned with my friend’s car. He is away. Somebody has to pay for the damages,” my husband said.
“And you two! This is not the time to be galavanting around. You should be glad that you were not hurt. Taking an important exam at the end of this year, right?” said my husband.
“Actually, I don’t like the idea of my son driving especially when he doesn’t own a license. But you know these youngsters,” said the man, trying to make a point.
“Oh no! We have to make it clear to our children. No license, no getting behind the wheels. And we have to be very firm about it,” said I.
“My daughter said she was only out to get a book. She had wanted to use our car but I said no. When she said that a friend would be driving, I relented. And now, she’s the one driving a car that is not hers,” said the mum who was silent all these while.
“Sis, I am sorry to say this, but next time, please do not believe everything that our youngsters say. Sometimes we have to be strict to be kind. And another thing, a boy and a girl, at this time of night,” I said lowering my voice, holding her shoulders.
The lady nodded her head.
“Okay now! We have to get going. We’re on our way to Kuala Lumpur actually. Remember my words, drive only when you get hold of a valid license,” said my husband to the two teenagers.
“
If, we are able to secure it,” said the girl, defiantly.
In an instant, I was so irritated that I wanted to get away as soon as possible.
There was no sign of remorse nor regret, judging from the attitudes of the teenagers. A boy and a girl, alone in a car at that time of night? A girl who is so used to telling a lie (she lied to her mum) and so assumed that she could also cook up some story (about avoiding another car and learning how to drive at that time of night) in order to get away with something which she did. A father who was prepared to tell a lie in order to cover up.
What concerned me most was that, he uttered those words in front of the children. His own son. As parents, what kind of messages and values are we sending to our young ones? That, it is perfectly OK to tell a lie? Two wrongs
does not make a right. As a father, surely you would want to instill honesty to someone of your own blood and kin. How about sense of respect? Dignity? Integrity? I shudder at the thought. Both my husband and I were very disturbed……
