’ ‘He wants to know if you got dark?’ she asked. I nodded and she returned to Mike and the conversation. ‘Yes, it’s dark….you don’t…..he is?’ ‘He says you’re estranged, how estranged are you?’ she asked me, covering the speaker with one hand. ‘About 3000 miles,’ I answered, thinking it was a conveniently safe way of putting it. ‘He says you always buy dark beer and he doesn’t like it.’ ‘I know, tell him we’re almost there,’ I said, thinking he would let her end the conversation. She directed me to pull in front of a two car garage which was attached to a small ranch house. It looked neat and well kept but in need of paint. There was a larger building off to the side with two pieces of road building equipment parked in front. Annie handed me the phone and asked me if I would wait until she checked her messages. She was out of the truck, running toward the house before I could answer, the red cloth bobbing along behind her. She had left her bag, again. ‘Sorry Mike but it doesn’t look. In the center of the room stood a large, almost ominous shape. Hidden beneath an orange tarp and several inches of dust, the car waited with the patience of the inanimate. Beside it, a smaller tarp covered a lesser, but no less meaningful vehicle. The mountain bike's owner would never ride it again. Infact, neither of the machines owner's were likely to return to them. But such is the fate of toys left by children who have outgrown them... Sunlight spilled into the room, chasing away the shadows that had lingered there for a year, undisturbed by human passage. But the loud, grinding protest of the old rusting door was ignored by the two figures who stood silhouetted in the doorway, their own shadows falling across the enormous tarp covered vehicle in the center of the room."This is it," commented Miranda with a sad smile, her tone distant as she walked up to the car and ran her hand idly over the tarp-covered hood, "my father's favorite toy."Misty stepped carefully up behind her, half.
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