The Single Dad looked beneath the dashboard.
Several switches were mounted where no production car should have had them.
Tiny metal labels sat beside each one.
FUEL PUMP 2.
AUX IGNITION.
BRAKE TEMP.
He frowned.
“Okay.”
Now he was interested.
Very interested.
He opened the glove compartment.
It stuck halfway.
He worked it gently.
Inside lay an owner's manual.
Several receipts.
An old road map.
A leather envelope.
He did not touch the envelope immediately.
Instead, he looked at the manual.
The cover showed the model family he suspected.
But one word had been written across it in black marker.
EXPERIMENTAL.
The Single Dad stopped breathing for a second.
He heard heels behind him.
“What did you find?”
He turned.
The Woman had returned.
He pointed toward the passenger side.
“You should see this.”
She leaned into the car reluctantly.
He showed her the manual.
She stared.
“That could mean anything.”
“Yes.”
“Probably my father wrote it.”
“Probably.”
“So?”
The Single Dad reached toward the leather envelope.
“May I?”
“It’s his car.”
“Your car now.”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
He opened it.
Inside were yellowed documents.
The first looked like an old insurance card.
The second was a registration.
The third made the Single Dad sit completely still.
The Woman noticed.
“What?”
He read again.
“What?”
She sounded more impatient now.
The Single Dad looked at her.
“Your father worked for Kingsley Motor Works?”
The Woman's expression changed.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before I was born.”
“What did he do?”
“Engineering.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
The Single Dad looked at the document.
Across the top:
KINGSLEY MOTOR WORKS - ADVANCED VEHICLE DEVELOPMENT DIVISION
Below it:
EXPERIMENTAL VEHICLE TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION
Vehicle designation:
XR-1
Chassis:
EXP-001
Assigned engineer:
Her father's name.
The Single Dad felt his pulse increase.
The Woman leaned closer.
“What is that?”
He handed her the paper.
She read.
Nothing registered at first.
Then:
“Prototype?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”