Written in Ronnie’s perspective, a piece about how Ronnie felt after Jaybird’s death.

I remember th’ first time we met. . . He was my neighba’ when we moved into town. My father an’ I heard his father fixed cars, an’ so when th’ ol’ junker finally busted it’s rockets, we took a visit. I was only 6 or 7 then, but I knew at that point, this Johnny Jay figure was some guy. He not only fixed cars, but built ‘em, raced ‘em, and even did stunt gigs with ‘em. A dad any kid’d kill for, yeh?
His son, Johnny Jay Junior, had the star quality about him, just like his pop- carried it in the way he looked, walked, an’ talked. From the start, I knew he was gonna be a prick in my side. We just stood there, starin’ at each otha’ for a long time. I was judgin’ him, scrutinizin’ an’ such, but he was just smilin’ like a scarecrow, arms folded, real cool-like. So I says to him, I says “You wanna start somethin?” That usually sent th’ other kids runnin off the black top, but it didn’t seem to impress Jaybird. He just motioned with ‘is head, “c’mere,” an’ walked off, expectin’ me to follow him like some lackie. But I did. He took me ’round back, where he had a sweet chopper-style bike parked next to it’s identical- his father’s custom bobber. Finest set of chrome pipes on two wheels if I ever saw it. He caught me gawkin’ and droolin’, figu’rin me to be some sorta fledglin’ puke around a garage. “Don’tcha know nothin’ bout cycles?” Course, at the time, what did I know? I ain’t never known a vehicle could make me feel the funny way I felt when I was around girls.
From then on, Jaybird had me, hook-line-an’-sinker. I was putty in his hands, just listenin’ to him regale his infinite well of knowledge bout cars. We grew up together in that garage of his. Every day after school, readin’ car mags, or just talkin’ bout some coupe we saw on the road, probably headin’ to a show. I itched for a car myself, a Ford roadster to be exact, ‘specially when Jaybird finally turned in his bike for a real chopper. He was only 14, with not so much ‘s a permit, but it never stopped him. He was a real backslider, that Johnny Jay.

You could say I followed in his every footstep. From Elementary through Junior High, Jaybird an’ I was inseparable. Then in our final semester of 8th grade, Jaybird an’ I got the crazy idea of startin’ a custom shop of our own, right outta high school. It was the only reason I even went to high. We gathered us a gang there, aptly named The Jaybirds. At the time, Jay an’ I was midway through our Freshman year when Ernie transferred in. A year after, the other goons joined. We all had a thing or two in common- an unruly objection to authority, and a love for the classic chromes. You could say the garage brought us together, but it wouldn’t be right t’ steal Jaybird’s credit. He was a fine leader, even to th’ end. An’ I know we woulda made a killing together as business partners.