A review request. Dom and Letty take their daughter to get her first car.
A Fixer Upper
Though her mother and father attended a lot of car auctions in LA and the surrounding areas, this was the first time she'd gotten to go with them. Often they were there to get cheap cars for parts, especially older model vehicles that weren't made anymore. They went early; her father explained that the morning was when they could preview all the cars, check out the insides and under the hoods and write down the numbers of the cars that she liked. Because she knew they were getting her car, or what would be her car when she could finally drive, she was out of bed on time, showered, dressed and ready to go by 8 am.
They piled into her father's car and he drove them to the site of the auction, an old shipping warehouse about an hour outside of town. Her mother cautioned her that she might not find anything she'd like this time.
"We can come to more," she explained, turning the radio down. "So don't go forcing yourself to choose a car you don't really love. They have these auctions all the time."
She nodded, too excited to even speak. She was sure she'd find the car for her. She had a feeling about it.
When they arrived she stared at the rows and rows of cars parked in the large lot. There were chain fences and a guard monitoring the arrivals at the gate. He charged them the small admittance fee and gave them a parking pass, signaling them to drive down to the other lot which was mostly empty at this time.
They parked and got out of the car, and then her father led the way along the outside of the building. He indicated the different sections of vehicles in the lot.
"The best stuff is inside, so it will sell for the most. We'll take a look, but I'm willing to bet that if you're going to find a good deal it will be out here."
She nodded, eyes wide. All the cars looked new from here, sun gleaming off shiny paint-jobs. But she knew that someone had made them look good for the auction, in the hopes they might sell for more money.
They went into the warehouse, where a small trickle of people was winding their way through rows of cars. Hoods were propped open to show engines, each car marked with a number painted on the windshield. She walked past some newer vehicles, makes of this year or the one before. They were getting the most attention, but she only glanced at them as she walked past. If she wanted a brand new car she could buy one from a dealership.
A tour of the warehouse showed some promise, but nothing more than vaguely interesting. She was antsy to explore the massive lot outdoors and led the way, ignoring her parents' conversation behind her.
Here the cars varied from less attractive models to older cars, from cars with a lot of mileage to vehicles that had been in wrecks.
There were less people milling about here, and once the sun came up and it got hot there would be even less. She wove between the rows carefully, pausing here and there. Her parents wandered in another direction, pointing out cars to one another. It made sense that they would also pick up some things for the shop while they were here.
Towards the end of one of the rows she spotted the front end of a unique looking vehicle. This one wasn't gleaming, painted only a dull sort of grey that was used on cars when they were being repaired. She could see from this distance that the driver's side headlight was missing and the fender was bent. Biting down on her lower lip she glanced over to see her parents bent over the hood of a car a few rows away. Turning, she made her way down towards the vehicle that had caught her eye.
In comparison to the other cars she'd seen so far, it wasn't pretty. Grey and battered, missing the back bumper. The passenger door was dented and scratched and the front windshield was cracked. She could see inside that the leather seats were old, worn and ripped up, cracked by weathering and faded from the sun.
But that wasn't what caught her eye. Rather it was the distinctive appearance; bullet shaped with a long front end and inset round headlights. The sweeping curve of the frame as it dropped down to the short trunk. Two doors and tiny triangular front windows. This wreck was a 1969 Shelby Mustang. She wanted to climb in and get behind the wheel, close her eyes and imagine driving this baby down to the beach, windows open and sea air blowing through her hair, engine purring.
Oh yeah. She wanted this car.
She was still admiring it when her parents wandered up, looking it over.
"Body needs work," her mother commented. "But not too bad for a classic car. We should take a look under the hood."
Dom agreed, leaning over to pop it open and the metal screeched in protest. The hood nearly came clean off, but he propped it up carefully and they looked inside. Engine was intact, though a great deal of the parts looked like they would need replacing. It would take a lot of time, and money to get the car drivable.
Her father glanced at her and she looked hopefully back at him. He sighed. "Fine. We'll put in a bid. But there's no guarantee that we'll get the car. So try not to get your hopes up."
She nodded, trying to take his caution to heart, but she fairly floated around the rest of the lot, ignoring the other cars and imagining driving her own beautiful car when she turned 16. She would paint it red, she thought to herself, as they filed back into the warehouse for the bidding to start.
It took hours, and she was glad her dad seemed to know what he was doing, because the whole process was confusing to her. When the Shelby came up for bidding she hunched down in her seat, trying not to get her hopes up.
It wasn't surprising that not much interest was taken in the car, given the shape it had been in, but one or two other classic car fans were interested, opening the bidding and raising it a bit. She had nearly resigned herself to not having the car when her father placed the last bid and after calling for more no one else raised their cards.
She was fairly skipping out the door when they left two hours later after paying. Her dad called the garage to arrange a tow, since that car wasn't going anywhere on its own power. It would probably take a lot of extra money, which she was expected to contribute to, and a lot of work, which she was also expected to contribute to. But the car would be ready for her to drive when she got her license.
She was fairly singing in the back seat on the way home and her mother was looking at her over her shoulder, amusement in her dark eyes.
"Someone's excited."
"I am. Thank you, Mami. Thank you, Papi. I'm so happy." She flopped onto her back in the back seat, laughing.
"Clearly," Letty commented. "You sound like an insane person."
"I'm an insanely lucky person, with insanely awesome parents," she replied.
"That's true," Dom agreed from the front seat.
"You're still working every weekday after school at the garage to help pay for your car and all its parts," Letty added, raising a brow.
"I know," she said. "But don't forget I need time for homework," she quipped.
"Oh you'll get plenty of time for homework," her father said. "That you can be sure of."
She was sure, but she found she didn't even care. She had a car. Hew own car. Now if only she could drive it.