I hoped my father did not think so small of me as to believe I would give up so cheap.
"When did he buy it?" I enquired more.
"He bought it in 1984, I think." klaus responded
"Did he buy it new?" I asked again
"Well, no." " I guess it was new in the early sixties or late fifties at the earliest," he conceded sheepishly.
"Come on Dad, you know I don't really know anything about cars. I would not be able to fix it if anything went wrong with the car, and I could not afford a mechanic too."
"Really! Aria, the thing runs outstanding. They do not build cars like that any longer."
"The thing" I imagined… it had possibilities as a nickname, at the very least.
"How cheap is it dad?" After all, that was the part I could not compromise on.
"Well, honey, I had already bought it for you. As a homecoming package." Klaus glanced sideways at me with a hopeful expression.
"Wow, free"
"You do not need to do that, Dad. Because really I was going to buy myself a car."
"I do not mind honey. All I want is for you to be happy here." He was glancing ahead at the road when he said this.
Klaus was not relaxed with conveying his emotions out loud, and that was a threat I inherited from him. So I was also glancing straight ahead as I responded.
"That is really nice of you Dad, thanks. I really cherish it."
No need to add that my being happy in Barboursville is not obtainable. He did not need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth or the engine as well.
"Well! Now, you are re welcome my dear," he muttered, but he was displeased by how I gave my thanks.
We traded a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much for a discussion. We looked out the windows in silence too.
It was lovely, of course; I could not deny the fact that everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.
It was too green an alien planet.
Eventually we made it to Klaus house. He still resided in the small, two bedroom house that he had bought with my mom in the early days of their marriage.
Those were the only memorous days their marriage had in the early days.
There parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new..... well, new to me truck.
It was a faded blue color, with big rounded fenders and a bulbous cab.
To my intense shock, I loved it. I did not know if it would run, but I could already see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged.
The kind you see at the scene of an accident, the paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had demolished.
"Wow, Dad, I love the car! Thanks once again!" I greeted.
Now my horrible day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful. I would not be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or receiving a ride in the Chief's cruiser.
"I am glad you like it," Klaus said gruffly, and unsettled again.
It took just only one trip to get all my luggage upstairs. My dad gave me the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard.
The room was very much recognised by me; it had belonged to me since I came into this world.
The light pink walls, the wooden floor, the peaked ceiling and the yellowed lace curtains around the window, these were all part of my childhood.
The only changes my dad had ever made were swapping the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew.
The desk now held a second-hand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the closest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mom, so that we could stay in touch easily.
The rocking chair from my infant days was still in the corner.
There was only one portable bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with my dad, and I was trying not to abide too much on that fact.
One of the best things about Klaus is that he does not tremble. He left me alone to unpack my bags and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether difficult for my mother.
It was actually nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look glad; a relief to gaze dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears to escape.
I was not in the situation to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bed-time, when I would have to think about the coming morning.
Barbourville High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven, now fifty-eight students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class back home.
All of the kids here had grown up together, their grand-parents had been toddlers together.
I would be the new girl from the big city, a novelty, a freak.
Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Scottsdale should, I could work this to my benefit. But physically, I had never fit in anywhere.
I should be sporty, tan, a blond volleyball player, or a cheerleader. Perhaps, all the things that go with inhabiting in the valley of the sun.
Rather, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the steady sunshine.
I had always been frail, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete.
I did not have the essential hand-eye coordination to play sports without embarrassing myself and hurting both myself and anyone else who stood too close.