Manchester, NH Early Sept., 2006

The wrench clattered to the floor...again. Johnny "Storm" Willits was having a tough time of it. His grandfather sure knew that, standing in the shop bay, watching his gran'kid work under the old '67 Chevy.

Perhaps watching wasn't the right word - Old Man Willits stood, leaning into the garage doorway, night air fresh with the New Hampshire autumn crisp and wood burning scent, listening to a stream of obscenities that would make drunken sailors on leave blush offended. That and the constant clatter of tools, parts, and heavy workboot heels slamming into the floor. /Strong boy,/ thought the elder Willits.

"I swear...if you don't hang properly in there, I'm gonna rip yuir dang-blasted %^&%*#^@!*$^%%(#&*@ steel frame off and chuck it so far into the %&%^#*$^&@()%$^*@ f'in woods they won't you 'til Armageddon passes...damned gas tank....get IN there...There!" The smack of leather on leather, as the dolly rolled out from under the Chevy, one greasy, grimy Johnny back down on it. He smiled up at the Old Man, his moonlight tan showing off the greasespots well.

"Finally done, then Johnny? We'll be able to use this bay for something other than housing the Chevy...?" The Old Man smiled warmly.

"Yea, Pops. It's done. Finally got it finished, and not a bit too soon." Johnny wiped the gloves together again, then rolled off the dolly, kicking it over. A nearby gas can made a quick contribution to the new gas tank, and then he opened the drivers door and slid into the custom leather bucket seat. "Like a glove, Pop...like a glove...listen to this..." Johnny turned over the ignition, and the garage filled with the sweet tiger purr of the rebuilt engine, a gearheads loving rumble. And it said, "Drive me, baby, drive me hard." Johnny grinned like a fiend.

"That's beautiful Johnny, boy. Reminds me of my ol' Bonneville...sweet...but I never seen anyone with so much trouble on a gas tank.."

Johnny chuckles, shutting down the engine with a flick. "Well Pops...if it was just *any* tank, shure 'nuff. But this baby's triple insulated n' double sized. Then there wuz the nitro set up under the hood, the headers, the pipes,...shit th' tranny hadta be rebuilt..."

The Old Man waves his wrinkles hands, "Ok, Johnny, ok..." His wrinkled, kindly face pinched into a bit of a frown. "Why so eager to get her up now though?" He paused and thought, sorrow filling his face. "Is it time for you to...leave, then?"

The younger Willits slid out of the seat. "Naww, Gramps...I'm fine here. Just got some things to do, and footin' it ain't th' way to do." He walked over to the older man. "I ain't leavin' now...no worries..."

"You know Johnny...you can any time..." The Old Man looked around the battered, weatherstained shop. "You could do so much better...instead of wasting your life here with me..."

"Hey! Pop's...knock it off. I'm happy here. You know tha'."

The Old Man looked, blinking back some tears. He loved his grandson dearly...wished his son were alive, but at least he had Johnny. A headstrong youth...just like his father. /And me.../ he thought. And afraid of nothing. The Old Man broke, as he did sometimes when he thought he might loose the lad, and hugged him tight. "Johnny..."

Johnny patted the Old Man's back, holding him in the embrace. "S'ok Pops...I ain't leavin'..." A short, loving grandsons kiss on the neck. The Old Man signed happily, hugging for a few moments more.

"Ok Johnny...ok...I've embarrassed you enough for one night, I suppose. I'll head back an' get some sleep. You be careful at...well, whatever it is you've got going."

"Sure Pops..." Johnny, feeling happily filled, moved back to the car, giving the new stereo a try while the old man shuffled out. /Damn...this stereo Liam dropped in actually kicks some tail...go figure.../

The crunch of gravel by the open garage bay. An equally grating voice : "Ooooo....how *touchin*. Lissen Pally, I'm lookin' fer a sport name o' Johnny Mean...Ya heard o' him??"

Johnny "Storm" Willits blinked then craned his head around to look at the grizzled, wiry figure in the shadowy night. "Well, I'll be damned...."