Cheryl's House  I'm in a van with my friend Cheryl Wrightson, her father, and my friend Ivory Alshire. Mr. Wrightson is driving. We're on the east coast of the United States. We're on a two-lane highway. Drivers are following the cars in front of them too closely: a few feet behind the car in front of them, while going 50 or 60 miles per hour. We pass some cars. There is an oncoming vehicle coming towards us when are in the passing lane. Cheryl's father honks at the car next to us to get them to slow down so we can move over into the right lane. The car we are about to collide with slows down and pulls onto the shoulder of the road. The driver of the car honks at us angrily. We pull off the road onto a side road. We're going to the Wrightson's new house. We drive through trees. I think they are oak trees. Cheryl says they are elm trees.