My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

“Why not?”

“The repair is going to run around three thousand dollars,” he said.

“This car is worth maybe eight hundred on a good day.”

I dug my fingernails into my palms.

“Is there any cheaper way to get it running?

Can you just patch it?” I asked.

“The engine is destroyed, miss,” he said.

“It isn’t going anywhere without a full rebuild.”