The SUV took off. There was no conversation, but there was music. Cecil Junior punched the CD player and some country balladeer crooned. Rob had never heard this guy who was singing, or the song. Not much of a mystery why since Rob did not listen to country music. However, he did respect what he had heard. He always thought it was adult music. Rock is for kids. It always talks about young love. Country is about cheating, divorce, death and taxes.
The singer was singing about one such theme. It was about a man searching for love after having lost it. He was singing about how he had loved his woman and the love “drifted in the wind” until it was gone. Rob thought the guy could have been singing about him. The next song, by the same artist, was about his little girl who was “daddy’s girl” who grew up and no longer needed daddy. So what did daddy mean to her? Hmm, thought Rob. This is quite a coincidence. As another song began about a man’s lonely quest to find himself, the SUV stopped.
“We’re here,” said Cecil Senior as the Cecils opened their doors.
Rob opened his and the sun momentarily blinded him after being in the darkness of the SUV. He put on his shades and stepped out of the vehicle. He stood and looked around. They were clearly far from Phoenix and in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing but sand and sagebrush as far as he could see except for where a range of tall red hills stood. Rob reasoned that the city must be on the other side of that range. They hadn’t driven that long and were it not for these hills, he probably would have a city view.
On the desolate plain there was a large aircraft hanger with no runway. This must be the garage, Rob thought. The Cecils walked towards the hanger and Rob followed. They entered through a small side door.
They entered a small office. There was no one else in the office, but he could hear pneumatic tools and other body shop noises coming from next door. Typical of a body shop office, there was an old desk piled high with papers and forms. An ancient computer stood beside the desk and an old sofa lined one wall. Cecil Senior went to the desk and pulled out a set of keys from the draw.
“Over this way,” said Cecil Senior as he led Rob to a door as Cecil Junior followed behind. Cecil Senior fiddled with the keys, found the right one and inserted it into the lock. He led the way into the next room.
The room was pristine in contrast to the office and to what Rob expected. The floor was a sparking grey with a slick finish. No oil had touched it. Cecil Senior turned on the lights. The high intensity lights flashed on with a heavy thud as the relays kicked in. The room was brightly illuminated like a convention center car show. Except that, in this room, there was only one object. It was the Mustang.
There stood the car, bright red and glistening under the lights. It was immaculate. The finish was buffed to a high gloss. Rob knew he could see the cracks in his teeth should he smile into the finish. It has the premium wire wheels offered when the car was new. The tires were jet black and slick. Rob stood in admiration. The Cecils smiled at the look of awe Rob expressed.
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