He had taken precious
care of the Firebird. Lifted it up from its near-death experience in the back
of a junkyard in Santa Fe, where it sat perched on a set of cinderblocks as
some old man’s “project car”. He had painstakingly restored nearly every detail,
down to refurbishing the Harvest Gold interior and finding an actual knob from 1980 for the stick shift.
But the crowning achievement was the gold pinstriped firebird splayed out over
the pitch-black hood. It was the last piece he promised himself, the one that
said he was done and his baby was no
longer dying – but alive.