Status: Complete
Word Count: 5.4K
Category: One-shot; Behind-the-scenes canon-compliant; Baby/The Impala; Choices; Personal growth; Heart-grabber; Life, love & family
Rating: Teen & Up
Character(s): Reader/Female O.C.; Male & Female O.C.s; References to familiar people/places
Pairing(s): N/A
Warnings: Mild coarse language
Author’s Note(s): Post-story
Overall Summary: Chuck told us a story about Baby’s early days. And we know how she’s spent most of her life helping the Winchesters get to where they need to go. Here’s a little of what happened in between.
The Lucchese brothers set out for America from Italy, climbed off a boat in Galveston, Texas in 1882. Enterprising fellows as they were, Sal and Joe already had a nice little thing going, a boot-making shop out at Fort Houston, over in San Antonio, by 1883. Sal was a nut for machinery, really turned his crank - any word he got about something that might rev things up, well, he wanted to be the first to try it.
The Luccheses became known for their hands-on approach, helped by those machines, sure, but only so’s they could give their work a boost. And they refused to cut corners, not even a little. The brothers believed that you should do things right, didn’t matter how busy you got.
Right around the turn of the century, their boots were coming in at around ten bucks. By the early parts of the 1900s, they were around $40 a pop. Then came the Hollywood bandwagon, handfuls of actors showing up wearing the Italian-meets-Western creations as word spread - back in that day, couldn’t just turn on a TV or expect to see ‘em plastered on billboards. Word of mouth and reputation go a hell of a long way.
The singer-songwriters and actual cowboy-types came along. And in the 60s, when style was starting to take a left turn, those boots were still hanging around. Hell, even the White House got in on the action - I’d heard some of the Kennedys got measured and fitted. Johnson, too.
Which, you should. I did. It wasn’t cheap, but worth it. You plan to surround yourself with something, day in and day out, you best make sure it’s a good fit. So I dished out some of the precious savings I’d squirreled away and got two good fits. Just in case I needed to walk.
And I would’ve walked, all the way, if I’d had to. I had 'em for a year, good and broken-in, those dark cherry-red dreams that came almost to my knees. Short legs, short strides, but I was determined.
They’d turned into what I thought were the most important boots - maybe the most important things - in the world. They kept me going, just needed to glance down at them, like they were a talisman. If I believed in that sort of thing.
Still. Funny how things can do that for you, and the people around you can’t. Won’t.
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