Fallout (Crank 3)

I go over to Grandfather, put

my hand on his cheek. “I’ll be back.”

He refuses to meet my eyes.

I’ll be right here, waiting.

WHEN I OPEN THE DOOR

I’m surprised to see the car

parked at the curb. It’s a late

model Cadillac. White. Pin

neat. Wait. This can’t be Trey’s.

Suddenly I understand how

little I really know about him.

Am I making an awful mistake?

Wasn’t he in prison for grand

theft auto, among other things?

“Uh. Nice car. Whose is it?”

He pulls the key from his

pocket, waves it in the air,

pushes a button that opens

the trunk, puts my suitcase

inside. Actually, it’s my mom’s.

Get in. He waits for me to

make up my mind. It takes all

of two minutes before he says,

Well? Are you coming or what?

He starts the car. Exactly

the motivation I need. I slink

into the front passenger seat,

fingers tingling. Plush white leather

sucks me in. The stereo plays

metal and my heart drums along.