The Heap was once shiny and new. It gleamed in the sunlight that beat down hard on Henrietta's driveway. Although Henrietta has a small garage, it's full of tools and boxes, and there's no room for the Heap. Henrietta was not very faithful about washing the Heap, but when she did wash it, she used a strong detergent and scrubbed it diligently. She used a stiff, nylon brush to remove all the pesky little insects and bits of tar that stuck to the car. Usually, by the time the Heap was washed, the thought of waxing it was too tiring.

Over the years the Heap acquired assorted scrapes, dings, and dents from flying pieces of gravel and nasty confrontations with other hard objects. Each little wound, where the paint chipped away, slowly began to show signs of rust. Henrietta looked at each small rust spot with frustration and hoped that it would go away. Lately, Henrietta has been parking the Heap under a nearby tree on hot summer days. She's noticed some annoying little sticky spots on the roof, hood, and door handles and is looking forward to a nice rainstorm to wash them off.