Car Trouble Part 2

I have touched upon my tenuous relationship with my now memoryless mother and this is a little slice of how that manifested itself through time. I had just had a full knee reconstruction and was encumbered with a lovely metal brace and was on crutches and had to attend physio therapy two or three times in Crows Nest. For those unfamiliar with Australia, I was living with my parents in Corrimal and Crows Nest is about 100km or 60 miles north on the other side of Sydney from where I was. To get to my physio, I had 2 options. Get myself there or get myself there. So I decided to get myself there. My knee saga had been immense. After the accident,first one hospital and an unsuccessful operation, then to another in Deewhy and upon my release spent a few days on my cousins lounge floor because Ma and Pa had had a holiday booked for ages and I couldn't look after myself. Well that went well because then I got a staf infection and had to back into hospital for another few weeks. I was not a well cookie.
Anyways, after all that I still had to go to this ludicrously far physiotherapist because the you beaut surgeon that fixed me told me to. It was only to be for the first week or so and then I could go to a local one. As a grown up that had determined himself capable of skiing at 100 km per hour, I felt it my decision as to how I was going to get to Crows Nest. Public Transport would have involved a cab to the train, a train to central station, another train to North Sydney Station then a walk of about 1500 mtr up the hill. This whilst all on crutches and my knee held together with a fleshy shoe lace and about 50 metal staples up the front of it. The alternative was that I drive and park in their carpark and hobble inside. That sounded the far better option to me and so it was that I declared to my parents that's what would be happening. I was 20 or thereabouts and quite able to be adult about this.
Now if only I could find my car keys.
"I have them and you aren't getting them"
"But Dad, I need to go to Physio tomorrow"
" I know"
"How am I supposed to get there then?"
"Train it"
My father had failed to comprehend the prospect of propelling my crutch ridden self up that North Sydney hill. We argued of course. He had some wild ideas about me not being able to drive my manual V8 car with a braced straight left leg. He mentioned some stuff about the pain killers I was on also hampering my ability. I think it was oxycontin but I was fine. I didn't feel anything when I was on them.
"the clutch goes in and out, I can do that" I pleaded my case but he and mum were resolute.
The next morning I got myself up and exited the house through the garage and into the cab to start the several hour long public transport journey that measly 100km.
It was one of the toughest things I've done to be honest. But I made it. Swearing at my parents the entire way.
I have a calm disposition most of the time but sometimes if I get really mad, I tend to lets say, "over react".
When I got home, my dad met me at the front door.
"You're mother had some car trouble today"
" oh is that right?"
"Yes"
"that's really too bad isn't it" as I took the mature and empathetic high ground.
My mum had got in her trusty Subaru that morning and it had failed to start. Dad was at work so she called the NRMA (break down service) who dutifully attended and started their fault finding procedures. Fuel, check, Battery check, starter motor check, spark uncheck. He must not have been too bright because it took him nearly 30 minutes to discover the rotor button was missing from the distributor cap.
"do you know why the Subaru had no Rotor button Justin?"
I took it from my shorts pocket and handed it to him.
I think they gave me to the end of the week to move out. I did. But only after I got my car keys back.