Keep Holding On

"Sam, your gonna do fine." I said as I patted my cousin on the shoulder. "Your gonna make an A. You've been studying this report over and over all week." He Gave me a smile.

My Uncle Ron knocked and peeked in my room and smiled. "Were leaving in five minutes. You two can't be late today."

Sam gave me a thumbs up. "Let's hope so. I gotta go get my stuff together." He said and ran out of my room to his across the hall. I smiled an walked into my bathroom to finish doing my hair since Sam stopped me earlier to talk.

I let my bright blue eyes roam over myself. My kinda pale complexion to my abnormally natural, bright red hair. I pulled part of it back into ponytail and left my bangs to fall over my eyes. I smiled. Satisfied and grabbed my bag from the floor and walked downstairs.

I grabbed a bagel that my Aunt Judy had sitting out for me and took a bite. Aunt Judy gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Have a good day, sweetie." Sam came up behind me and she did the same thing, adding a 'good luck' and we went out with Uncle Ron to head out to school.

0o0o0

My fingers tapped aimlessly on the desk as my history teacher looked around the classroom for the next student he could call to the front of the class and read their report. He only does this to embarrass us, I think. I sighed in frustration as his eyes landed on my cousin. "Mister Sam Witwicky. Your up." He slowly rose to his seat and grabbed his bag from the floor. He approached the table in front of the class and dumped his bag's contents on it. Multiple old instruments tumbled looked up at the class, all eyes were on him. "Ugh. Sorry, I gotta allot of stuff. For my family genealogy report,-" he was cut off but a piece of paper flying up and hitting him in the face.

Mr. Martin rose from his seat. "People! Responsibility." He said as he pointed his finger at the middle of the class to the boy who did it. Trent. I turned to see him grinning as he received high fives from the jocks around him. I rolled my eyes and turned back continued "I decided to do it on my great, great grandfather, he was a famous man, Captain Archibald Witwicky. A famous man. Very famous explorer. He was one of the first to explore the arctic circle. Which is a big deal. In eighteen ninety-seven…he took forty-one brave sailors straight into the arctic shelf. So that's the story right. I have some basic instruments and tools used to nineteen century seaman."

The class laughing when he said 'seaman'. Mr. Martin holding up a stop sign shaped paddle that said 'quiet'. Yeah, like that's gonna do anything.

I had heard this report a thousand times since he rehearsed the report on our grandfather every day. He had to do good. This was his final grade and he had to receive an A if we are to get a car. I had three A's already and my thousand dollars and he had two A's and a thousand. That was his dad (my uncle)'s deal. Three A's and one thousand each.

He began to pick up each item and say what they were. "Here's the quadrant. You can get it for eighty buck. It's all for sale by the way. Like the sextant here." The class again laughed and the teacher held up the sign. It still didn't keep them from laughing.

Sam finally picked up the final item. "These are my grandfather's glasses. I haven't gotten them appraised yet but they have seen many cool things."

"Sam!" Mr. Martin interrupted. "Are you going to sell me his liver? This isn't show and sell it's the eleventh grade, I don't think your grandfather would be particularly proud."

"I know, I'm sorry. This is all going towards my car fund. I'm on Ebay. I take paypal, cold hard cash works too. The compass makes a great gift on Columbus day!"

"Sam!" He interrupts again.

"Sorry!"

I had told him he shouldn't sell our grandfather's stuff but he wouldn't listen. Now he getting reprimanded by the teacher for trying to auction off stuff during class!

Sam stopped completely with the items and went to the next part. He held up two papers, both riddled with odd markings, and he pointed to the pictures. " Unfortunately, my Grandfather, the genius that he was, wound up going blind and crazy in a psych ward. Drawing strange symbols and babbling on about some giant ice man that he thought he discovered." He finished just in time, the bell then sounding to end the day.

All the students quickly jumped up. None listening to Mr. Martin's warning. "Study! Might be a pop quiz tomorrow! Might not! Sleep in fear tonight!

I rolled my eyes as I heard Sam shout prices at the students leaving the classroom. I grabbed my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder. I walked up and patted Sam in the back. "Good luck, Cuz." He gave me a nervous grin and walked up to Mr. Martin's desk.

I stood by the door and watched as Sam walked up to Mr. Martin. "So, pretty good right?"

"I'd say a solid B minus." He replied after giving off a good obvious eye roll.

Sam frowned. "A B minus?"

"You were hawking your great grandfather's crap in my classroom!"

I groaned. "I can't watch this. This is gonna end badly…"

I ran to the parking lot, cutting through mobs of students talking and found my Uncle Ron's car parked out front. I hopping into the backseat and gave him a hug from behind. He laughed. "Hey, Makkenna. Where's Sam?"

"Getting his grade. Fingers crossed!" I held up my pointer and middle finger and crossed them. Maybe Sam could weasel his way into an A.

"Unlike him, you study and do good. You got all of you're A's in one day. Your mom would be proud." I smiled and leaned back into my seat. A moment later Sam ran out of the front of the school, waving his paper around like a mad man.

He quickly yanked the door open and climbed in. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Uncle Ron rose and eyebrow. "So?"

"I got an A-, it's an A though!" He looked at him expectantly and then sent a hopeful glance my way. I gave him a thumbs up.

Uncle Ron motioned for the paper. "Wait, wait, wait. I can't see." Sam held the paper up.

"It's an A. So I'm good?" I leaned and Sam and I both gave him huge smiles.

He laughed and nodded. "Your good." I shot my fist in the air as Sam did a little dance in his seat. Uncle Ron laughed again. "Alright, stop it, stop squirming in the seats, Sam. You'll mess up the leather." Sam stopped abruptly and sat back in his seat.

After around ten minutes of driving we finally arrived in town. Uncle Ron finally broke the silence as he turned into a Porsche dealership. "Got a little surprise for you both."

Uncle Ron, get us a Porsche? Anyone who knew him, knew this was a joke. What idiot would possibly-

"No, no, no, Dad!" Sam yelled enthusiastically as he turned around multiple times to look at the cars. I face palmed.

I shook my head. "Sam, he's joking with us."

Uncle Ron nodded. "Yeah, I am. Your not getting a Porsche, for your first car!"

Sam's happy smile fell. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I think it's funny! You really think I'd get you a Porsche, for your first car?" He answered through laughter. I looked around to see him driving out of the back entrance of the Porsche dealership and I saw an old run-down car lot up ahead. That looks legible for Uncle Ron…

Sam continued. "What's wrong with you? I'm not talking to you for the rest of the day." Uncle Ron continued to laugh. "It's not a funny joke." As I though we pulled into the run down lot. The sign reading 'Bobby Bolivia's'. A clown standing under it twirling a smaller sign, yelling about paint melting into his eyes.

All the cars that were visible were old 'clunkers'. They had the dates on them, most in the sixties or seventies and most all were cars no one wanted back then or now. Yeah, this is definantly something Uncle Ron would do. We were never going to find anything here!

He parked and we all got out. I noticed Sam's horrified expression. He was thinking the exact same thing. "Here? What is this? You said half a car not half a piece of crap!"

"At your age I'd be happy with four wheels and an engine."

Sam shook his head and began to fight with him again. "Let me explain something to you. You ever seen Forty Year Old Virgin?"

He nodded.

Sam pointed to a car. "That's what this is." he pointed to the older one beside it. "This is fifty year old virgin. You want us to live that life?"

"No sacrifice, no victory."

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, got it. Old Witwicky motto."

Their fight was stopped as an older black man walked out and smiled. "What can I do you all for?" he questioned, using that 'perky salesman' voice and tone.

Uncle Ron grabbed our shoulders. "Were here to get their first car."

He looked shocked. "You come to see me?"

I smiled and nodded. "Had to…"

He smiled and shook our hands. "That practically makes us family. Uncle Bobby B, baby. Uncle Bobby B."

I gave him a fake smile. "Makkenna."

He then shook Sam's hand. "Sam." He answered, also showing off the best fake polite smile he could muster. He grabbed Sam's shoulder and started to talk and show Sam a few cars but in the group he was showing off, none just 'jumped out' at me.

I sighed and walked on to the other cars. One car in particular drawing me in. Maybe there is a car here for us. Just maybe. This car being an old '70's Camaro. Yellow with black racing stripes. I smiled and ran my hand over the hood. It might have been just me, but it felt as if it shivered. Probably just me.

I shrugged and grabbed the handle and opened the door. I slid in looked around. The inside of the car looked pretty good. Better than the other old cars here. It had black and yellow leather seats to match the exterior of the car. I grinned at the air freshener. It having an angry Bee on it and under it, it said 'Bee-otch'. There was also a little disco ball.

This was like a gem in a bunch of rocks. I smiled. "This is the one." I ran my hand over the steering wheel, dust came off to reveal a strange symbol in the middle of the steering wheel. I touched it again, a tingle running through my fingertips. It seemed…familiar.

I shrugged again and decided to see what Sam thought. I got out and motioned to him. "Come here! I found a good one!" He left his conversation with the manager to run over look it over. 'Uncle Bobby B' walked over also, giving the car a strange look.

"It's got racing stripes." Sam inquired as he ran his hand over the hood of the car. He the began to look inside it also, giving me and the car a smile. He liked it.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, it's got racing…what the heck is this? I don't know nothing about this car." He looked up toward the garage's in the distance. "Hey, Manny, what about this car? Check it out!"

The man in question answered back with a shrug. "I never seen, boss. That's loco!"

Bobby shook his head. "Don't go Ricky Ricardo on me, Manny. Find out!"

I walked over and knelt down by Sam, who was sitting in the driver's seat. "Feels good." He too noticing the strange symbol. He looked at me and I shrugged. He smiled. "Probably something the previous owner did. Who knows. Still a great car."

I nodded in agreement and turned to Uncle Ron and he nodded. "How much?" He questioned Bobby.

Bobby walked over slowly and assessed the car. "Considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle. With the slick wheels and the custom paint job-"

"But, the paint's faded!" Sam cut in.

"Yeah, but it's custom." Bobby shot back.

"It's custom faded. That makes no sense!" I yelled back over the roof of the car.

Bobby shook his head. "It's your first car. I wouldn't expect you to understand." he turned to Uncle Ron. "Five grand."

He shook his head. "Sorry, not paying over four." My smile dropped.

Bobby leaned down. "Come on, kid. Get out the car."

Sam didn't budge. "You said cars pick their driver's!"

"Yeah, well some times they pick a driver with a cheap ass father. Get out the car." He turned to an ugly yellow bug next to the Camaro. "This one for four g's is a beauty!"

"There's a Fiesta with racing stripes over there." Uncle Ron said as he pointed across the lot.

Sam shook his head. "We don't want aFiesta with racing stripes…"

"This is a classic engine right here! I sold one just yesterday with-" Bobby was cut off. As Sam shut the door to the Camaro, the passenger door flew open and slammed into the VW that Bobby was sitting in, pushing the car over and into a stack of plastic jugs and a old rusted barrel. He climbed up through the passenger's door. "No worries. I can get a sledgehammer and knock this right out." he turned to the garages again. "Manny! Get your clown cousin and some hammer and come bang this stuff out, baby! He let out a laugh. He got out and pointed across the lot. "That one's my favorite. Drove all the way from Alabamy!"

I suddenly heard a loud noise and all the windows in the cars shattered. Sam grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to the ground so we couldn't get bombarded by the shattered glass flying everywhere! I turned a little to see that so far, nothing had happened to the Camaro. Shocker.

After it was all over Bobby slowly got up and looked around at the cars all destroyed in shock. He then turned to us. He held up four fingers. "Four thousand!"

Sam cheered and jumped up in the air. I ran and gave Uncle Ron a hug and then Sam grabbed me and hugged me. "We have a car!"

"Calm down!" Uncle Ron said as he pulled us apart. "Your getting a car not winning the lottery. Come one you both have papers to sign for ownership."

I gave our new car a glance as I followed Sam into the manager's office.