Part II '71 F100

“Rain, Rain, Go away, Come again another day, me and Uncle Jimmy want to go out and play,” the child chants over and over again.  The rain had been coming down all day long.  You could hear it like the soft beats of a drum as it pounded the side of the garage.  Jim looked around the garage for his piston ring compressor, but every step seemed more perilous than the last.  Scattered everywhere around him were old oil pans catching the rain from the leaking roof.  He searched for what seemed like a lifetime for his most prized piston ring compressor.1

“Were the… errr umm what happened to that darn tool,” he said cautiously, knowing that if he swore in front of his little nephew his brother would never let him hear the end of it.  Getting frustrated with the engine rebuild, which was taking far longer than it should, and then the constant noise from a well meaning child who is only bored, Jim finally gives in.  “Okay buddy, this is what we’re going to do, me and you are going to run over to the dealership so that I can check my tool box there and see if my tool is there and then we are going to go down to that little Go-Kart track and race on the track for a bit, how does that sound buddy?” Jim asked, hoping for an affirmative answer.  The young boy’s face quickly cracks with a big smile and he nods his head rapidly.2

The two walk outside to Jim’s truck and hop in.  The soft touch of leather and tight cradle of the seat makes him grin a little.  The little boy jumps into the truck and buckles himself in.  He turns to his uncle, with a big smile on his face and asks, “Jimmy lets go vroom?”  This is one request he’s more than happy to satisfy for his young nephew.  As he starts up the shiny new truck he revs the engine a few times, and then shifts it into reverse and backs out of the driveway.  Once on the street he looks both ways to make sure that no one is around.  He shifts the truck into first.  At this point all he sees is the red light ahead of him a few yards.  Instantly as the light starts to turn green all you can see in Jim’s eyes are the gears in his head turning as he starts to rev the truck and simultaneously hammers down the accelerator and dumps the clutch.  The tires squeal like a child with a new toy and the truck steams down the road.  Faster and faster the truck goes, and Jim is just antagonizing it as he wraps through the gears allowing each one to rev progressively a little faster than the previous.3

The whole world seems to disappear as he barrels down the street.  Then he starts to hear it, it sounds like a siren.  Everything starts to slow and the next thing he sees is the lights.  Two of them, one blue and one red, and at this point he knows exactly what is going on.  Seeing the officer behind him he pulls off to the side of the road, turns off the panting truck, throws the keys on the dash, and puts both of his hands, in plain sight, on the soft leather wrapped steering wheel, still moist from the sweat of his palms.  “Evening officer,” Jim says with a preturbed look on his face.  “Daggone it Jimmy,” the officer replies.  “Now what in God’s name are you doing going 80 in a 35 zone?”  the officer asks, not allowing Jim a moment to respond, he continues, “You do realize that I should haul you in and put both you and this little truck of yours away forever.  I’m not going to do that though, you know why?”  the officer inquires, but does not allow Jim to answer.  “I will tell you why, because you have been able to keep that heap of crap car of mine on the road far longer than it should have been.  That has to be good for something I guess, but if I catch you out here like this again it’s not me you are going to have to answer to, it’s that sister in-law of yours.  I am going to make you answer to her and you know what that means don’t you?”  Once again the officer offers no time for Jim to respond as he waves him off and gets back into his car.4

As they pull up into the parking lot the kid begins to squirm in his seat with excitement.  The sign reads ‘RPM Indoor Kart Racing’, as the truck comes to a halt in the parking spot, Jim reaches over and turns off the truck.  He eases his foot down on the parking brake and then unlocks the doors.  Just as he does the young boy flings the seat belt off and hops out of the truck running to the door of the small racetrack. Jim is barely out of the truck before the kid starts shouting from the door, “Come on Jimmy hurry up.”  Jim finishes stepping out of the truck, closes the door softly, still thinking of races past.  Al he hears is the gentle suction as the door closing tightly.  As he walks over to the door where the young boy stands he clicks the button on his remote to lock the doors and turn on the alarm.  The honk that the truck makes to confirm his command doesn’t sound like a honk at all to Jim.  It sounds like a gunshot, and the only thing that he can think of now is the feel of the stiff rubber accelerator peddle, and the feel of gravity that forces you back into your seat, and the smell of alcohol and methanol powered beasts burning down the track.  5

Then it flashes in his eyes… the old mustang barreling down the track when the tire explodes, the car drops to the right hand side and begins to spin, faster and faster, completely out of control, the car digs the spindle down into the pavement and flings over flipping head over heals in the air, it finally comes to a rest in the wall.  All he can smell is the fire raging in the engine bay.  He tries to move but he cant, his leg is broken and it won’t respond to his commands.  The fire crew rushes over and begins to put out the fire, Jim still pinned in the car starts to shout for help.6

Then another flash… all he can see is his young nephew standing at the door saying “Hurry up, come on let’s go!”  So, as not to disappoint the young lad they step into the building and begin selecting which vehicle they wish to race.  Jim pays the young lady behind the counter, and they walk into the lobby of the track.  As the door starts to close behind them, all Jim can see is the door closing on his career as a racer.  He looks down at the ground and still all he can see are the flames surrounding him, and the owner’s of the team telling him that they are taking him off the team.  Then the door closes.7