The first day of spring this year was the earliest it has been in centuries, March 19th. That was 5 days ago and if you plopped down in Klamath Falls today there would be no way to convince you that it was in fact spring. It snowed, including freezing snow or possible hail, off and on all day. Fortunately because it had been reasonably seasonal for the last week or so, there is nearly zero accumulation.

Ships in the Night

“Good night, dear” Steve said as he pulled the comforter over his shoulders and gave his wife a kiss.

“Good night…” Sandra wife responded sleepily.

This was one of Steve’s favorite times of the day. Work was five hours behind him and nine hours ahead of him. He had taken care of the kids after dinner, helped put them to bed, caught up on a bit of house work, and made a few calls after checking his voice mail. Lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come was a good time for him, alone. The turmoil of the day a distant hum, he can mull over the finer points of the day as he drifted off to dreamland. Not too much time for himself these days – work, wife, and kids kept him on his toes. These twelve or so minutes were his sole indulgence….

“You need a hobby,” Kevin said in a gruff tone. “I’ve got me one – trains. I built me up a set in the basement.”

Steve did not respond, he had heard this lecture before from his cohort. It was morning again, and the office was particularly intrusive today.

The last thing Steve wanted was advice.

“At night, after the house is asleep,” Kevin continued, undaunted “I go down to the basement and play with my trains. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes until breakfast. That’s my release…”

“When do you sleep?” Steve responded, not really wanting to encourage this line of conversation.

“That’s just the beauty of it,” Kevin piped back. “It’s so relaxing, that I don’t need those full eight hours. I can get away with as little as three, never need more than five.”

“You’re kidding,” Steve said incredulously, looking up.

“How long have you known me.”

“Six years now,” Steve shot back.

“Ever see me droopy-eyed? Slugging around after lunch? When you are fighting to keep your eyes open during the two o’clock hour, what am I doing?”

“You do your financials…” Steve said.

“Exactly. Sharp as a tack all day long, sleep like a baby at night,” Kevin said proudly. “But not until after I’ve had some me-time at the controls of Number 99.”

“A hobby…” Steve thought to himself.

On the train home that evening, Steve racked his brain. It had been years since he thought about a hobby. Golf? No time. Fishing? Too much equipment, kids still too young. Model building? “I’m a klutz with plastic cement,” Steve said to himself. What did he used to do as a kid? Not much. No sports, no musical instruments, nothing much except his sports cars. That old Triumph took all his time between fixing it and driving it.

Driving it. That was the thrill. “Boy,” Steve said to himself, “If I could just have that escape once a day, I’d sleep like a log.” He put the thought out of his mind. They could afford it, but when would he have time to drive a sports car? He’d never drive into the city for work. And he’d never leave a sports car parked at the depot all day while he was in the city. He needed that darned four door for his carpool. He was stuck. Two seaters and his current lifestyle would never mesh.

The train pulled to a stop at Arlington Station to let passengers off. Steve stared out the window blankly, counting cars stopped at the crossing. The second car back caught his eye – a yellow Mazda Miata. “Man,” Steve whispered. “That’s the ticket.” The train lurched and began to pull away. Steve’s eyes were locked on the Miata, tracking it solidly as the train accelerated down the track. Steve broke gaze with the little sports car and looked up the aisle at the hatted heads bobbing with his, nodding off, worn out from the grind. “I’ve gotta get a plan…” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Steve, it’s beautiful!” Sandra giggled. “It’ll be a great weekend car.” She was looking at the “new” used red Miata in their driveway.

“You can still drive a stick, can’t you?” Steve asked, reassuringly.

“Sure!” Sandra was excited for Steve. She knew he had been sacrificing so much over the past few years. Work was asking so much from him, he had little time for the family, much less time for a toy car. She was happy for him, even if just the idea of having a sports car brought him pleasure. She doubted if he would ever find time to drive it. Both of their schedules were jam-packed from seven in the morning until late at night. The thought of the Miata in the garage brightened her spirits, though. It was sort of like an optimistic promise of good times to come for both of them.

“Good night, dear” Steve said as he pulled the comforter over his shoulders and gave his wife a kiss.

“Good night…” Sandra wife responded sleepily. Steve stroked her hair for a while, thinking out his plan. When her breathing became deep and regular, he knew she was asleep. Her job and the kids wore her to a frazzle as well. This was just a time in their lives. Neither of them had a minute to themselves all day. Maybe she should get a hobby, Steve thought. Maybe he can get that promotion so she won’t have to teach.

He lifted her head off of his chest and laid it gently onto her pillow. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and headed down the upstairs hallway, being careful not to disturb any of the sleeping children. Down the stairs, through the kitchen, toward the garage. The family dog raised its head quizzically, wondering what was the reason for a break in the routine.

“Get used to it, old girl” Steve said. “I’ve got a hobby,now.” Steve opened the garage door and grabbed the new keys from the key bowl. He ran his hand over the hood of the Miata, admiring its lines in the dim light of the overhead light.

He started the engine and let it idle for a few minutes. He had only driven it home from the dealer – all in bad traffic. Now it was his turn. He backed the sports car out of the driveway, straightened out onto the road, and headed off into the night…

Up through the gears, chasing his high beams out of town, Steve was free. He made no plan or destination, just let the sweet sound of that engine whine as he traveled from hill to valley, the town lights now a distant glow over the trees. Turning left, turning right, it all came back to him. All of those years with his Triumph came rushing in like an old family album. He bonded that night, bonded with something deep inside him from his youth. Before the degrees, before the mortgage, before the diapers, he did have a hobby. Now he had it again. The smile never left his face that night.

His first excursion out he was only gone thirty minutes. As he slipped back under the covers, he snuggled his wife and was asleep in seconds. “This is going to work out fantastically…” was his last thought of the night.

The next morning he awoke refreshed, ready to go. Six hours of sleep used to cripple him, make him terminally irritable. But not today. “Let’s not make a judgment just yet,” Steve thought to himself. “It’ll take a week to see if I can keep this up.”

Steve kept up his nightly therapy for twenty days straight, weekends included. Each night went a little further out. He was amazed at the fun of it. No traffic. No cops. No deadline. He could drive anywhere he wanted, exploring the countryside like a kid. It became the one release of the day that kept him going. As long as he got back before Sandra woke up, it was his secret time for himself.

He had not started out with the intent to keep this from his wife. But after the third trip out, he decided that letting her know would spoil it somehow. In some small way it would imply the need for her consent. He knew she wouldn’t mind, but he liked it being his decision alone to go out.

The country roads surrounding their suburb were splendid at night. During the spring and summer months, the smells were fantastic. Even the autumn brought its own special feel, especially when the moon was full. All of the world was asleep, but Steve and his Miata were out having fun. It is amazing, Steve thought, how nice it is to wander around without anyone watching.

As the year began to close out, Steve was getting bolder in his travels. He found he could get deep into Virginia in ninety minutes and still make it back by three a.m. That had become his only new restriction to himself – that he would be in bed by three. Otherwise, he would become a zombie, hooked on his nighttime fixes. Virginia had some of the best two lanes in the country, and he explored every one he could find, one strip at a time. It was addictive and intoxicating. And he never felt healthier in his life.

“You’re looking pretty chipper,” Kevin noted one day at the office. “You got a new girlfriend?” he said, winking.

“Better yet,” Steve countered. “I’ve got me a hobby…”

Kevin smiled a knowing smile.

The little Miata performed beautifully, never missed a lick. Steve was averaging around one hundred miles a night, but he never kept track of the odometer. Some nights he began working on the car instead of driving it; changing the oil, giving her a wax job. It only took one night a month or so, and Steve found it to be just as therapeutic.

He and Sandra would take the car out on date nights now and then, when the babysitter was available. He would let Sandra drive. She was quite proficient with a stick shift, even showing off a heel-and-toe maneuver now and then. Steve was amazed how comfortable Sandra felt with the car, even with the few times she got to drive it. “This is some car,” Steve said out loud.

“Sure is,” Sandra replied with a gleam in her eye.

It wasn’t until one night, after Steve had made his rounds and gotten back into bed, that the whole picture came into view. One of the kids had a nightmare. Steve woke up and asked Sandra who was upset. He got no response from Sandra -the light was on in their bathroom and the door was closed. He decided to go check on the crying himself. He walked down the hall quietly, listening at every door until he found the upset child. It was simply a bad dream, and it only took a minute to get his three year old back to sleep. It was close to five a.m.. Steve debated if two more hours of sleep would do him any good, or if he should just go ahead and get up. He had only taken a short hop in the Miata that night, had gotten to bed by midnight. Sandra was still sacking out by ten each evening, exhausted.

Steve went down to the kitchen and made himself some coffee. While it was brewing, he stepped out the front door to get the paper, which should be on the curb by now. Stooping down to get the morning news, his ears caught a familiar sound. It was a sports car being wound out, each gear screaming full throttle. It made him smile. “Maybe someone else’s got a hobby,” he said chuckling.

He heard the sports car being worked, and then it grew quiet. He looked up and down the street and saw no one. “Must be on a side street,” he thought to himself as he turned back up his sidewalk. As he approached the front step a noise startled him. It was the sound of his garage door beginning to open. It was an eerie sight, seeing it open by itself like that. He stood open mouthed for a moment, then stepped down off of the stoop and slowly headed over toward the opening door.

Before he got five steps he was startled again – this time by the sound of a car coming down his street and turning into his driveway. To his amazement, it was a little red Miata just like his own, and it was headed into his garage. He reached out his hand and began to scream a warning – he was sure that the car was going to ram his Miata in the garage if it did not stop. His yell was halted by the sight of Sandra wheeling the sports car into the empty garage, smile on her face, family dog in the passenger seat with a similar grin.

He followed the car into the garage and stood behind the rear bumper. Sandra stepped out and gave him a peck on the check. He could smell her damp skin and the scent of pine in her hair. He looked into her eyes.

“You’re not the only one who needs a hobby, you know,” Sandra said. “And by the way, you need to keep up with the tire wear, you’re using more than your fair share.”

She turned on her heels and went in the house, leaving Steve and his hobby in the garage, his mouth as wide open as the garage door, leading out into the night…