[Beginnings] She saw the truck advertised for sale in the back of the farm paper, the rag that ran ads for piles of manure, old equipment, trade in labor, and the sort of public service announcements that locals with a soap box to stand on wrote. Cherry red, where it wasn't primer pink and primer grey, she decided to buy it when she saw the ad wedged between a screed on immigration and an ad for hay. She'd saved up a little money -- some her father had sent her, some she'd picked up doing odd jobs here and there. It was enough for the truck, the title fees, and some gas. Spring was coming quickly, and the days were warming up. She figured she could spend some time alternating between the beach out at the coast and doing research in the library if she figured right, and might be able to pick up a few more odd jobs if she could haul a few loads herself.