In Memoriam

In Memoriam
by Chris Nance


“Let’s pop the hood and take one more look before we fire her up,” my dad said eagerly and picked a wrench from the tray with shaky hands. After all, we’d been waiting months for this moment.

We’d spent countless hours looming over manuals, looking up suggestions on the internet, and double or triple-checking every piece and part so that it was rock solid. As far as we could tell, everything should start up flawlessly. Sure, some of the parts were new but we started with a classic chassis and body. I mean, we could have built a new machine from the ground up but a retro version seemed more in keeping with what my sister would have wanted. She died three years ago and this was a testament to her. After all, we’d put so much of her into this project that I was sure she’d be proud.

“And that…should…do it,” dad said, making the final adjustments, then securing the lid. “Are you ready?” he asked me.

“As ready as I’m gonna get,” I replied, nervous myself about what we’d accomplished. So we took our seats, both just stuck in the moment and staring at the ignition switch…it had been so long. Finally, I gathered my wits and asked, “Well?”

Immediately, he hit the button. With a muffled hum that faded to near silence, the motor kicked in, power shooting though every circuit and relay. We both waited with anxious anticipation. “Sara?” he asked quietly.

“Sis?” I wondered as her eyes opened and she turned her head to us with a smile.



(263 words)