“Something’s strange between the two of us Somehow the stars & the darkness swirl the universe” -OOLYAKOO, “Change” There are many levels of emotion associated with it. Anger is merely one of the reactions. Transcendence and sorrow are others. Denial. Depression. The insane laughter of the absurdity of it all. She was a peach. 1996 Acura Integra. Under 65,000 miles. Serviced at dealerships since initial purchase. Garaged most of its life. My brother-in-law was the original owner. I was the second owner. My father took the car on a cross-country road-trip from D.C. to L.A and delivered it to me. This was in early March. Last Saturday night the phone rang. 3 A.M. She had been located by L.A.P.D. I asked what condition she was in. He said he wasn’t going to soften it: the engine was gone. I asked him how the body was. He said it was surprisingly left in good condition. Ain’t that a bitch. I got all the information and tried to process it. At least I knew where she was… we wouldn’t be looking down every fucking street for her anymore. It had only been 4 days, but I took a look at every Acura I encountered for those 4 days. I could tell you where at least 20 of them are parked right now. So for a minute there, I understood what those people feel that have had a family member disappear… and then they get that call. They always seem satisfied, on a level, just to know where she is. I didn’t feel so good about it in the morning. I had to release the car from the impound yard to my insurance company. They took her over to a mechanic on my side of town. Tracy and I decided to visit. From the street, it was just like seeing my car parked in a lot. Inside the car was in disarray. The steering wheel had been cut. My club was laying on the floor with various parts of the dashboard. There were no gauges in the dash any longer. The air filtering system was sitting in the backseat, which had been pulled up from the base of the car. I couldn’t understand why they would do that (after contemplation, Tracy CSI’d that it’s probably where they place LoJack). I pop the trunk and there are two barrels of waste oil with one of my blankets shoved in the lid to keep it from spilling. Thanks for that. When I had opened the car, Tracy mentioned the smell and I told her that they drain the car when they take the engine. I didn’t realize they had put it in the trunk. They had also thrown the front suspension back there. I open the hood and an amazing void stared back at me. It was like looking somebody in the face, but there’s no face there. It was shocking. I had looked at that engine with pride a couple of times and it was just not there anymore. On the drive home, Tracy was angry. I was exhausted. Last night, I went back to the mechanic’s shop and met with the insurance rep. We went over everything and I gave him my paperwork. I took a few pictures…