The Fast and the Furious my story

Chapter 1

My name is Baker. Jeff Baker that is. How would I describe myself? That’s an interesting question actually because I’ve had a rather varied life. I grew up on a small family farm in Iowa, I was the oldest of three kids. My mom passed away when I was fourteen and honestly after that I kinda lost it. I ended up throwing myself into cars and a bit of a shady life. After I graduated high school I pretty much decided that anywhere but where I was was better so I quite my job, said goodbye to my family, loaded what I could into the 1968 Dodge Charger that I spent the last five or so years building from the ground up and headed to any place I could.

I really didn’t have any set destination in mind. I just pointed my grill west and tore down the road. Now I know what your thinking and I’m saying your wrong in that. I wasn’t running from my past I just wanted a fresh start someplace new. I probably would come back but at the time I didn’t know nor did I really care. All I knew was it was me and the open road. I didn’t even carry a cell phone or laptop with me. Left them all behind with the thought that if I needed them I would send for them or I would just come home.

It took maybe three or so days to hit the Pacific Ocean at San Francisco then I flipped a coin and headed south to Los Angeles. Honestly we didn't take a whole lot of family vacations and when we did it was rarely to anyplace more than a days drive away from the farm. As soon as I saw the skyline I knew I was completely out of my element and I knew to survive here I would have to improvise. 

After asking a few of the locals I learned of a motel that was relatively affordable for me and I decided to crash there for a few days or weeks depending on how fast I could find a job and possibly an apartment or something. The kid working the front desk had this expression like I was from Mars when I walked in. I guess it probably wasn’t every day that he saw a barely of age guy wearing combat pants and a cotton tee shirt walk in. 

He got over his surprise and spoke, “Just a single bed room?”

“Yeah whatever you have available will work.” I replied.

“Alright hold on just a second here, how long will your stay with us be?” He said as he checked his computer.

“I really don't know at this point in time.”

“Hey that’s cool, don't sweat it. Let’s see here 12B is open, cable is out in it though. Is that alright?”

“Yeah that will be just fine.” I responded. 

“Alright then. Now where’s the key at? Oh right there. Anyway would you like some help carrying in anything?”

“No thanks I’m traveling light.”

“Alright enjoy your stay with us, if you need anything I’ll be here, names Chris Welch by the way and you are?” 

“Jeff Baker.” I replied and I shook his hand as he handed me the key card. I walked out to the car and grabbed my duffel bag out of the trunk. My hand brushed the latch on false bottom I put in the bottom of the trunk. I decided against opening it and closed the trunk.

My room wasn’t exactly a master bedroom. In fact it was pretty much the crappiest place I had ever seen. However it was better than sleeping in the backseat of the Charger which was what I had done for the past four nights. Flipped the TV on. Of course with the cable out which meant that there was only three channels on the antenna but I managed to catch some news. Wasn’t anything that I thought important. Couple homicides but nothing I thought really pertained to me. 

There was a knock on the door. I opened it to find the reception guy, Chris Welch standing out there.

“Hey,” he said, “Sorry to bother you but I was curious. Is the black ’68 sitting out there yours?”