Damn Good Reasons **DISCONTINUED - SEE NEW VER!**

Chapter 7 - On the Road Again

I was skeptical Ace would turn up early. In fact, I didn't think he'd turn up at all. But I still rolled out of bed at 7 am and patiently waited for him on my front steps. I was nervous about who I might meet that day but had to find my photos. They were all I had left of my family, and it was my responsibility to keep them safe.

My ears soon caught the distinctive sound of a V8 rumbling down the street. The rumble grew louder until a patchy-gray '49 Ford Custom convertible bullishly pulled into my driveway.

"Who do you lo-ove? Who do you love?" Ace sang over top of the Bo Diddley song that was blaring on the radio. He braked sharply right beside the steps where I sat and then turned the music down a fraction before taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"Wow, you actually came. And on time," I said.

Ace took one last puff and then flicked the smoking butt into my pretty rose garden. "Just get in the car."

I clunked the heavy door open and slipped into the gray leather interior. It had a faint smell that reminded me of the aftermath of a drunken party - one where everyone drinks too much, someone vomits in the car on the way home, and nobody does a great job of scrubbing it clean the next day. I cringed at the thought. But the purr under the hood made up for it. As we drove through the streets of Castle Rock, I couldn't help but lay back and feel the growls move through me every time his foot touched the gas.

As soon as we hit the main highway out of town, Ace sunk his pedal to the floor. We flew past the 'You are leaving Castle Rock' sign at 75mph, and then he suddenly lifted his lead foot and turned down a long gravel driveway. A hard yank on the handbrake brought the car to a snakey stop outside a small, sad-looking house. The white weatherboards were dirty with dust and road grime, and the rusted tin roof sagged as it hung over the low front porch which was so full of holes and gaps it could easily claim an ankle. The lawns had free reign over the yard, growing as high as the wild scrub that bordered the property. Away to the right, hidden amongst creepers and vines, sat a large, wooden garage, and back some to my left lazed the stripped-down body of a 1940 Willys Coupe on blocks.

"Wait here," he said. He left the door ajar and then disappeared inside.

I waited in the secluded basin. It felt nice sitting out there, way out in the country air, feeling the warm morning sun on my cheeks with the V8 humming around me.

Ace finally returned and tossed a couple of six-packs onto the bench seat between us.

"What are you doing? You're driving..."

"So?" he shrugged. "I could drink all of these and still drive. You just sit there and watch me." He cracked open a can, chugged half of it back and then let out a belch so deep it scraped the gravel.

"Wow... that was from the heart..."

"They only get better," he said and then took another greedy mouthful.

We headed out again along the rural road which had been void of traffic since we got on it.

"Is this the road they picked me up on?" I asked, scanning the area.

"Yep."

"Why is it always so empty?"

"'Cause it don't go anywhere, that's why. Not since the 30's. They built a new highway that's faster to Chamberlain. Out that way," he pointed east.

"Do you know where the farmhouse is?"

"It's not for a few miles yet." Ace looked at me. "You're lucky he picked you up, you know. You should be grateful."