“Reckon it will stop, Boy”? With a grin, The Daddy parked the 1949 Cheverolet pickup in front of the Hale Motor Company. Only one wheel had any brakes left on it.
Earlier in the day, the blue ‘59 Apache pickup had been sitting in front of the show room. He had never bought a new pickup and this one was not new either, but as close as he would ever come to buying one. He was not impressed by things. The young boy, at this moment, was. He knew the magnitude of the event. It was more a symbol of hard work and loyalty than prestige. Something that did not come easy. Either one of them. The Daddy with pride took the keys without fanfare. The young boy of twelve would eventually take his driving test in that pick up.
Going down the interstate using his watch and mile markers , the young boy, now a daddy, kept a 60 mile per hour pace on the way to their new home in another state. Seven years later the return routine. The Daddy did grin when the blue truck returned to its home state.
“Well, I will give you five hundred dollars under what you are asking.”
“Man, I am sorry you ruint your whole day by driving down here, but I will pull it out in front of the house and make a flower bed out of it before I will do that.” The older “young” boy turned to walk away. .
“No, no, your son in law told my you “lible” just walk off and leave me standing here. It’s a deal,, your deal. How will I get it on my trailer? I will come back Wednesday to get it” .
“Put a battery on it. Crake the sum’bitch up and drive it up on the trailer”. The older “young” boy grinned and then he did turn and walk away. “Only reason you’re getting it, ‘cause I know you will treat it right. Maybe you will get another 40 years out of it.”
