“Where exactly are we going?” I ask Bobby-Lynn who is ignoring my question, continuing to look straight while driving, singing to whatever was on the radio. “Ah! Here we are!” she says pulling into some storage facility.
I didn’t even bother asking why we are here because I probably already know the answer, for some reason she isn’t telling me anything. We pull up to this storage locker that is the size of a garage. Wonder what is in there?
“Here.” Bobby-Lynn hands me a set of keys “this one opens up the door.” I give her a weird look then get out of the Tahoe and walk up to the door and unlock the deadbolt that was dangling off of the latch, and then lifted the door. I sat there in aw to what was sitting in front of me. It was my uncle Charles old ’77 Camaro. I was amazed on how well it still looks the metallic white paint, with the black racing stripes that went from the front to the rear of the car. The windows were tinted, just enough that it blended with the racing stripes. The interior was a charcoal black, I remember it well, it felt like it was just yesterday I was helping my uncle Charles put in the carpeting on one of my trips here. I had a great time with my uncle. I didn’t mind being a tomboy back then, but in reality I don’t mind being a tomboy now I just prefer more feminine things as well. But helping my uncle build this car was my one of my greatest memories.
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