“Two thousand dollars,” his father told him. “Just sitting in a garage gathering dust.”
It didn’t look like an old bomb. It was a white Toyota Corona. It had a black leather interior and his mother had bought a whole heap of goodies to go with it—a leather steering wheel cover, a Perth city street directory, and a deodoriser in the shape of a pine tree.
“That’s your birthday present as well,” his mother added.
“Fine with me,” said Brandon. “Who’s coming for a spin?”
“We’ll go for a quick drive,” said his mother. “The family will be here in an hour or so and I haven’t done a thing.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help,” said Brandon. “Get in.”
He took them for a spin around the block, but it wasn’t until he was speeding back to the city, three days after Christmas, that he truly appreciated the freedom a car could bring.
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