Return of the Autobots, Ch. 3

Chapter Three

It wasn't a big surprise when the first thing Iris did when she woke up was look over at her nightstand to make sure that the shard was still there; naturally, it was. She smiled and breathed through her nose, sitting up and pulling the covers off of her. After tucking the shard away in the top drawer of the bedside table, Iris rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she started walking downstairs. The sound of the TV was the first one to reach her, followed by the sounds of her parents talking. She couldn't hear what they were saying specifically but it wasn't like she cared enough to really try and listen.

While her parents discussed what Iris assumed to be what was being said on the news, she reached into the Einstein's bagel bag on the counter and pulled out one covered in cinnamon. Without bothering to toast it, she bit into the bagel and wandered over to the table, sitting down next to her mom.

"I'm just saying you can't blame other people for this," her mom was saying.

Iris's dad huffed. "Bullshit. People were more interested in having the first black president than they were in actually electing who was right for this damn country," he replied, stuffing a sausage into his mouth.

Iris looked back at the TV just long enough to see that the news was talking about the president trying to get the country out of debt…or, something like that. She hated watching the news because it was too depressing, and now her parents were fighting about it. With a sigh, she attempted to change the subject.

"You guys see the meteors that fell last night? Four of them," she mumbled without looking up from her bagel and took another bite.

As if somebody had flipped a switch, her mom and dad immediately started talking about that. Iris rolled her eyes as how easily it was for her parents to get distracted or moved onto another topic.

When her bagel was gone, she brushed her hands on her pants to get rid of any excess cinnamon and stood up.

"I'm going to the junkyard for a bit," she said as she walked over to the stairs.

"Iris, it's your day off! Wouldn't you rather do something different?" her mom asked in surprise, but Iris just shrugged.

"Why not do what I like?" she replied and ran up the stairs.

She quickly exchanged her pajamas for a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt before grabbing her wallet from her backpack and putting it in the bag she used for the junkyard. Once that was done, she wrapped the strange shard back up in the tissue paper and put it in the front pocket as well as her notebook inside the bag itself. Iris practically slammed her door in her hurry to get out of the house, a small smile brimming on her face as she slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and whipped the front door open. After calling a brief goodbye to her parents over her shoulder, she shut the door behind her and started down the road at a brisk jog.

She was a little out of breath by the time she reached the junkyard, but the feeling soon went away as she started looking around. It was pretty early in the morning, somewhere around 9:00, so Richie was most likely doing some paperwork or some crap like that in the little station he had set up in the middle of the junkyard. So if she found anything she wanted, she'd have to wait until he showed up.

Well for awhile that wasn't much of a problem. Iris must have looked over half of the junkyard but couldn't make herself pick anything up. She'd found a couple of things she liked, but some nagging feeling that something better was out there somewhere made her put them down and move on. At some point Iris realized that she'd been here for an hour and a half with nothing to show for it and a rather annoyed feeling rose in her chest as she took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration.

"There a problem?" came Richie's voice suddenly beside her.

Iris looked over at him, ignoring the fact that she'd nearly jumped out of her skin when he'd appeared out of nowhere, and shrugged.

"I just can't find what I'm looking for."

"Well that's unusual. Whatchya looking for?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "I don't know."

He smiled, setting his hands on his hips as his expression narrowed with thought. "Hm. Well, don't give up just yet. I'm sure you'll find something."

Richie left after that and Iris went back to searching, though she was steadily losing interest in the endeavor of finding her unknown something. After another half of an hour had passed, she pulled the shard out of her bag and stared it as if it would give her inspiration. When that didn't help she put it back and retraced her steps to the far corner of the junkyard to see if there was anything there.

And like hell there was.

For a moment, Iris stared at it without blinking, as though a blink would make her realize it was an illusion and the car would vanish. But it didn't. She took a couple of steps forward, her hand reaching out to brush against the hood, feeling the dirt and grime that had built up there come off at her touch. A smile came onto her face, a smile that resembled something of a person who had just accomplished the impossible. A smile that stayed for so long that it made her cheeks hurt.

The car was an old yellow Camaro with black racing stripes trailing from front to back, a model that's production had long ago ceased. It was probably dated somewhere around 2009, which was about the time that her grandfather had been at her age. How amazing it was to find something like that in a place like this! She bent over by the door, glancing inside at the interior. It was in rather good shape for a car that old and the keys were still dangling in the ignition, something that almost made Iris's smile go away. What if it belonged to someone already? God, she finally found what she was looking for and already it was taken away?

"Hey Richie!" she yelled as loud as she could. "Come over here a sec!"

It took him a couple of minutes to actually get over to her, but once he had his eyes went first to the car, then to her.

"Find what you were lookin for?"

"Does this car belong to someone?" she asked desperately.

Richie stared at it a moment. "Naw, I don't think so. I think someone dropped it off last night and never came back for it. And you know the rules: anything left here for more than twelve hours is free game."

"So I can have it?" she asked to clarify, her smile growing again.

The man chuckled, nodding his head. "Yes, Iris, you can have it."

She practically squealed with her delight. "How much?" she demanded instantly, knowing that Richie would want to get to the point of price pretty fast. It was just the kind of guy he was.

"Hm……tell you what. It's old, no one wants it apparently, and it's pretty beat up. I'll give it to you for $300."

Iris didn't speak. Her mouth hung part of the way open in shock. Not because that was so much. It was because that was so little. "Um, Richie, this car is practically a collector's item. You really okay with selling it for that amount?"

"Eh, I'm not much of a car person. Besides, pricing is totally up to me. Now you gonna buy it or what?"

Brimming with joy, Iris pulled a checkbook from her wallet (one her mother had given her to use) and wrote out the amount, almost ripping it in her hurry to get it into Richie's hand and finally own the car. Richie looked at the check and pulled back a bit.

"This is $50 too much, kid."

"That's so I can keep it here. I need to do some repairs, fix it up before I can take it home and show my parents," she explained.

The conversation pretty much ended there and Iris was left alone to fan-girl over the fact that she finally owned her own car.

She turned to face the Camaro, her hands on her hips as she studied it. "Oh, don't listen to Richie. You may be old, but you're still in good shape. I like you anyways," she said aloud as though the car would respond to her. She walked over to the driver's side of the car and opened the door, sitting in the driver's seat and holding the steering wheel in her hands.

After a moment of marveling, she noticed a picture on the center of the steering wheel that was obscured by dust, using her thumb to wipe it away.

When the dust had been cleared, it was a symbol taking the form of a robot head that had been revealed.