Twisted Legacy (This is a working title)

Flashback: The Gift

"Daddy, where are we going?" asked the fiery orange-haired little girl, her bright, expectant eyes fixed on the man driving.

"We're going to meet a friend of mine who also has an interesting child," James Sullivan replied, his voice steady despite the questions swirling in his mind. A sought-after auto engineer known for his genius in assembling engines for race and sports cars, he had mysteriously disappeared at the peak of his career. Now, he found himself driving to Danport, a middle-class town that seemed an odd choice for someone like him.

What is he thinking of staying here in Danport? James pondered as he navigated the unfamiliar streets.

"Daddy, are we going to live in a small town? I think I'm going to like it here," Tricia said, her eyes sparkling as she gazed out the window of their F-250 Ford truck.

"You think? If you're happy to stay here, then we will," he replied, forcing a smile.

After two stops to rest and fill Tricia's stomach, the duo arrived in a small but peculiar town called Anchorage.

"What an odd town," James mused, taking in the quirky architecture.

Suddenly, a 1920s brick building came into view, dividing the wide road into two.

"This must be it," he said, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

"Are we here, Daddy?" Tricia's voice bubbled with excitement.

James squeezed his daughter's hand in affirmation, making her feel safe as he prepared to step out of the truck. Just then, a man in his early thirties approached with a smile that lit up his entire face.

"I thought you would never come," the man exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious.

"Why wouldn't I? It was my brother from another mother who asked me, so I must," James chuckled.

As the two men greeted each other, passersby—especially the women—couldn't help but gasp at the sight of them, looking like they had stepped straight out of a GQ magazine.

"Daddy, who is he?" Tricia piped up from the truck.

Caught up in the joy of reuniting with his friend, James nearly forgot she was there. "And who might this lovely young lady be?" the man asked, peeking inside the truck.

"My name is Tricia, and I'm 10 years old!" she declared, beaming with pride.

"Hello there, Tricia! I'm Ian, or Uncle Ian to you," the man replied, extending his hand in greeting.

"Daddy, Uncle Ian is handsome like you!" she announced, earning a playful wink from Ian as he helped her out of the truck.

"Your daughter has good taste in men," James remarked, teasingly nudging his friend.

As Ian led the father-daughter duo inside the building, they gasped at the sight before them.

"Okay, what exactly are we entering? This place is too pristine to be a garage," James mused, glancing at the rows of toolcases, tires piled like pyramids, and heavy-duty hydraulic jacks. But what truly caught his eye was the two 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1s gleaming in the middle of the expansive space.

Suddenly, a scruffy-looking kid appeared, catching Tricia by surprise. She instinctively hid behind her father's legs.

"Hey, nugget! What are you up to?" Ian called to the child, his voice warm and familiar.

"Admiring the cars I'm going to restore!" the kid chirped, hopping excitedly around the classic beauties.

"Ian, is that?" James asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yes, George," Ian whispered, glancing at the child.

"George?" James replied with a knowing grin.

"Better not mention the other name or you'll see Taz of Looney Toons in the flesh. And that kid set me dead straight about what name to use when calling out." Ian chuckled.

"What?"

"George," Ian said with a smirk.

"Like your father's name?" James asked, surprised.

"Yup. my father's name," Ian explained.

"What did the old man say?"

"In his gruff tone, he said, 'I am proud that the child likes my name, but for heaven's sake, Ian, at least add something to the name so there will be a distinction. I feel like your grandfather is calling me every time you holler the kid's name.'"

"So instead of George, it's Nugget when we're at my father's house or when we are alone." Ian finished, chuckling at the memory.

"Also, no pronouns, I don't know where George learned that but this kid prefers to be called George and George alone." Added Ian while still trying to make sense out of what his kid wants.

"Daddy, who are they?" Nugget asked, peeking out from behind one of the tire towers.

"Come here, Nugget, and meet my best friend, your godfather, and my gift to you," James said, gesturing at the scruffy-looking child to come closer.

"Gift? Uncle James? Godfather?" Nugget's eyes widened in confusion.

"Yes, George, it's me," James said, looking down at his goddaughter, wondering why she looked so unruly.

"Who is she?"

"Tricia, honey, I want you to meet George. Be nice to George, okay?"

"Is he a boy?" Tricia asked, furrowing her brow.

"I am what I am. Doesn't matter if I am a boy or a girl. I look what I look," George replied matter-of-factly, still trying to process the mention of the word "gift."

"But your name is a boy's name... George," Tricia pointed out.

"I like my name. It's my Grumpy Gramps' name," George explained.

"Can I call you George?" Tricia asked, a big smile spreading across her face as an imaginary light bulb lit up above her head.

"What's your real name?"

"My name is too formal. You can call me Tricia like my dad," Tricia replied, with a big smile on her face.

George also flashed a wide smile showing off a missing tooth that made Tricia giggle because her new found friend is quite a character.

"Uncle James, you're the best gift I've ever had in my entire 8 years of existence!" George exclaimed. Then turned to Tricia then pointed at the cars. "I'll restore these cars with your dad and make sure they ride like real Mustangs when driven!"

All three were amused by Georgie's declaration, the warmth of their laughter filling the room.

"Tricia, we will be the best of friends ever and you can have one of the cars. Also, I allow you to call me George."

With an exuberant whistle, George happily hopped around, checking out the cars, This child's playful spirit lit up the garage.

"Daddy, George is weird and I like it. I'll make sure to keep George safe always," Tricia declared, glancing at her new friend.

"Please do, honey. They have been protecting us all this time, and it's only right we do the same for them," James replied, his heart swelling with hope for the future that lay ahead.