Red Wagon Daredevils

I remember thinking, "We are going to die!"

At the ripe age of 7, my brother and I decided that we would kill ourselves.  How did we happen upon this pact?  It came to us in the form of a red wagon.  Either Kevin or myself discovered that if you sat in the wagon and pulled the handle up, you could steer it from the inside almost like a car.  We needed a place to try this out.  A place worthy of a first run.  We discovered it.  Down the drive a little was a steep hill, where we could ride down and across the driveway.  The red wagon grudgingly followed us up the hill.  We arrived at the top and began to formulate a plan on how to get the wagon down the hill with both of us in it.  It was decided that I would drive.  Kevin would be the push man from the back and start our descent.  We climbed in, pulled the handle up, and took one last look around at the surroundings.  That's when I realized that at the bottom of the hill, across the drive way was the tin lined garage.  It became evident to me that the only way to stop was to run into the garage or try to turn the wagon hard enough to continue down the road.  The only problem with option two is that the sharp turn would surely turn us over.  Before I could abandon our plan, Kevin pushed off, and down the hill we went.  It seemed like we hit Mach 1 halfway down, each passing inch we gained speed.  I had to make a decision, hit the garage or turn over the wagon and hit the gravel at the speed of light.  I gripped the handle tight, gritted my teeth, and tightened my body to prepare for impact with the rusty metal wall.  My knuckles turned white, the color drained from my face, and my mind raced with the past 7 years of my life.  BAM!  We hit headlong into the garage and not a single scratch or dent on us or the heroic wagon.  There was but one thing left to do, do it again.