“Hey you Guys!” my father’s face appears upside down between two of the pier’s posts. “You under there?” he asks as his eyes adjust to the darkness under the pier.
“We’re here! I shout back as we crawl out of our dark, cool, hiding place and start walking with my father up the beach.
“I almost had to park in the next town,” my father says, just making conversation. “This car show has this town completely filled!”
“What did the police say?” I ask wanting to get right to the point.
My father waits a few seconds for Ricky to catch up with us, “the police called back before I got out of the house. They’ve already found the truck and trailer. It was reported stolen early this morning. They found it parked on the side of the road, the back door rolled up and nothing inside.”
“Did you tell them about my dad? Ricky asks.
“When they called back I told them everything you told me,” my father answers quickly. “We are heading for the station as soon as we get back to the car.”
“Did you tell my mother?” Ricky asks full of concern.
“No yet,” my father pauses a second and then ads, “I wanted to hurry and get your full report to the police. I didn’t want to be in a hurry when I tell your mother.”
“Sounds good,” Ricky responds and we all walk silently for a while. The continuous line of traffic still circles through the streets, some people looking for a place to park, others just looking at the old, fixed up cars. When we get to my father’s fifty-four Chevy there are several people standing around it looking in the windows, thinking it’s part of the show. My father has to smile a little, he’s pretty proud of his car.
A guy looking in the driver’s window looks up at my father when we get close, “this your car?” he asks.
“Sure is,” my father answers. He has his keys out and is unlocking doors as soon as we reach the car.
“You drive her on the street?” another man asks.
We pile in while my father answers, “Sure do,” and turns the key. The car starts immediately.
“She sounds good!” one of the people shouts as we pull on to the road.