Return Of The Intimidator

My goodness! It is absolutely freezing this morning!” Mandy exclaimed as the ritualistic bus ride to school began. For some strange reason, it appeared to be eerily darker than usual outside, almost to the point that something peculiar could happen at any time.
“I know. My hair was completely frozen before I got on the bus. This winter has got to be the worst I have seen in a long time,” returned her handsome friend and brother-like figure, brad. The two had been friends for a couple of years now, for they met by strange happenstance. He was sitting by himself one day, just daydreaming as usual, when she sat down next to him. He did not want to seem very withdrawn, so he decided to say hello. She returned the greeting, and they became friends. The sound of Bruce’s voice snapped Brad out of his reminiscence.
“We should be there on time if the snow clears. I have no clue why the school board did not call off school when it looks like a blizzard on the country roads.” Bruce muttered to the bus.
As if on cue, the snow cleared, and the bus began to pick up speed. Then, all at once, the bus slid hard to the right, signaling the presence of Black Ice. Bruce attempted to correct the problem, but to no avail. The bus cut sharply to the left, then bounced off the guardrail on the other side of the road to the right. Then the bus pulled a complete spin, careening off guardrail after guardrail before coming to a sickening halt nose buried in a concrete divider. Instantly, groans filled the air. Everyone had no idea what was going on and the entire accident caught them by surprise.
“Brad, I hit my head on something and I do not know what it was.” Mandy said.
“It was my head.” Brad retorted. Then, all at once, everyone got quiet. “Oh my gosh, Bruce is hurt! Somebody do something!” Samantha screamed from the back of the bus.
“Everyone remain calm! Sam, you make sure Bruce is alive. Mandy, you check to see how many people are seriously injured. I will get on Bruce’s CB radio to see if we can not get help out here. There is bound to be somebody there on the other end to answer.” Brad yelled amid the chaos.
“9709 to the bus garage.” Brad called over the radio.
Only the awkward silence replied. He tried again, and again. With each unsuccessful try, his panic became more and more evident. Why will they not answer? He thought amid his panic. Finally, after six unsuccessful calls, Suzie replied to him.
“This is the bus garage. Go ahead 9709.”
“We are wrecked on highway 41 by the tobacco warehouse. Our bus driver, Bruce, is unconscious. We need an ambulance as soon as possible.”
“Listen to me carefully, is there anyone else that is injured?” Suzie asked warily.
“Everyone else is fine. Bruce is the only one that is seriously injured.”
“Where are you located again?”
“By the tobacco warehouse.”
“The ambulance is on its way.”
From a distance, they heard sirens but couldn’t see their source until they were nearly upon the disabled bus. Immediately after the paramedics took Bruce to Jennie Stuart Hospital, another driver, Sandy Joiner, volunteered to take the shocked and frightened students back home. She happened to be heading to Hopkinsville for a bus inspection when she saw Bruce have his accident.
Early the next morning, Brad, Mandy, and Samantha headed to the hospital to check up on Bruce. They had felt guilty thinking the entire thing was their fault, so they thought the least they could do is support his family during this crisis. He was awake, which is a good sign, but Brad had this awkward feeling that something wasn’t right.
“Guys, there is something wrong. I can feel it,” he announced with a look of discernment.
“There couldn’t possibly be anything wrong. Bruce is awake, he is sitting up, and his wife has a look of…” Sam squeaked out.
“Oh, my goodness! There is something wrong!” she shouted.
“I told you so! Let’s go in there and see what is going on!” Brad retorted.
As the trio entered the bright, wire-laden hospital room, they overheard a very strange conversation.
“How many times do I have to ask you; who are you, and who is Bruce?”
“You’re Bruce, and I’m you’re wife.”
“I am not, and you are not my wife!”
“I am!”
“I don’t have time for this! Get my son so I can get out of here!”
“Your son?!?!?!”
“Yes. My son, Junior. Really tall, brown hair, green eyes, Races for my enterprise. Any of this making any sense?”
At once, the full realization of the fact that Bruce thought he was Dale Earnhardt hit the group like a freight train. Somehow, the situation was making perfect sense. The three kids casually stepped into the hall to discuss their options. Curiously, Bruce’s wife, Mary followed them.
“Guys, I have two conclusions.” Mandy commented.
“Two? If I recall correctly, you said you was only capable of drawing one.” Brad sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah. Two. I am fully aware of this AND what I said earlier. I was kidding then. Now, can I speak or are you gonna stand around here criticizing me all afternoon?”
“By all means, state your mind.”
“Conclusion one: We must have been going pretty fast because the bus is completely totaled.”
“Well that’s pretty obvious.”
“Conclusion two: We need to do some thing about Bruce.”
“Like what?”
“Play along with this. All I need to do is think of some way to get Junior here to help him out. You know, Talk to him, get him in a couple of races, and possibly snap him out of this odd happenstance.”
“How are we going to do that when he isn’t even well enough to get out of the hospital, much less drive in a race.” Mary piped up.
“My thoughts exactly.” Brad said as he shot Mandy a sour glare.
“Well,” Mandy replied, sensing Brad’s evil death glare, “when Junior arrives, we could get him to convince the doctors that he is well and they need to release him.”
“That sounds feasible, but how can we get Junior down here when we don’t have any means of contacting him?” Sam inquired.
“I got that area covered.” Brad uttered.
“How?” Mandy asked.
“Yeah, do tell your piece of information.” Sam joined.
“Well, I just so happen to know Jeff Gordon’s phone number and address.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?!?!?!?!?!” The girls screamed in unison.
“I didn’t think you would need that information. Besides, how could I have known this was going to happen? I will call him tonight to find out if he can work out his busy schedule to come down here and investigate this. I highly doubt he will, though.”
“Still, give it a try. He might surprise you.” Mandy returned.
That afternoon, Brad called his lifelong celebrity, Jeff Gordon. The minutes leading up to the phone call were very agonizing, for he didn’t have any idea on what to say. Everything he could think of that would go wrong with this flooded his mind. Finally, he decided to ignore the feelings of agonizing doubt and call him. He was immediately put to ease by the down to earth nature of Gordon, which was evident when he started speaking.
“So, what you are saying is that your bus driver hit a patch of Black Ice, had an accident, was knocked unconscious, woke up this morning, and now claims to be Dale Earnhardt?” Gordon asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, that pretty much covers it.” Brad returned.
“Okay. Let me go find Junior and run this information by him. Can I call you back?”
“Yeah. I have nothing else to do this afternoon.”
“Alright. It might take a little while. Like two hours.”
“No prob.”
“Will do.”
Thirty minutes later, Jeff Gordon had called back
“We have some good news and some bad news.” Gordon said.
“Give me the good news first.” Brad voiced back.
“The good news is we might have a cure for your bus driver.”
“That’s great! What is it?”
“That’s the bad news.”
“I don’t follow.”
“We will have to come down and investigate the entire situation.”
“Investigate? You guys sound so much like CSI reporters.”
“We are far from that, but we still need to come down there.”
“Let me let you speak to my mother. She will work things out.”
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
“Mom!!!! Jeff Gordon wants to talk to you!!!!”
“I am not falling for that one!!!! You can give up trying to fool me!!!!!!”
“Maybe putting him through the speakerphone would persuade you!!!”
“It would, except that it isn’t April Fool’s Day. So you can’t fool me!!!”
“Jeff, mom doesn’t believe me that you are on the phone. Will you yell real loud when I put you through speakerphone?”
“Sure.”
“You’re on.”
“Mrs. Farmer? This is Jeff Gordon. Are you there?”
“I am right here. Hello? Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure you can! That would be great! My son would love that! Okay. Bye.”
“What is going on, mother?” Brad interrogated mom after she hung up.
“Well, you might want to give your room a good cleaning over!”
“Why?”
“We are expecting company and they are staying in your room.”
“Who?”
“Dale and Jeff. Who else?”
“You’re kidding! They wouldn’t come all the way here just because some kid is claiming his bus driver is having an identity crisis! There must be something more important to do than that!”
“Ok. Suit yourself. But still, clean your room!”
“Alright, alright! I will! Just sit down and breathe!”
That night, around 11:30, a mysterious sound of wind awoke Brad. He thought to himself It is probably just a storm but when he looked out the basement window onto the back forest lot, it was aglow! He hurriedly dressed and ran upstairs to wake his parents. However, when he got there, he found their bed empty. He then ran back downstairs to wake his little brother and to put on his shoes so he could go out there and see what this odd object was doing in his backyard.
Within minutes, he was standing next to his parents and little brother watching this “thing” land. The loud thwap, thwap, thwap of this object sent chills down his spine.
“Wha, what do you think it is?” He asked diffidently.
“I have no idea, but I think it’s opening.” Mom returned.
When it finally opened, two figures stepped out. The bright light behind them made their silhouettes look like aliens from another planet. In reality, they had monstrous heads, almost the size as full face motorcycle helmets. Wait, they were full face motorcycle helmets.
“Hello, is this the Farmer’s residence?” one of the figures yelled over the roaring of the chopper blades.
“Yes it is. This is my husband Raymond, my two sons Brent and Brad, and I’m Marlene.” Mom said coolly.
“I’m Jeff Gordon, and this is Dale Junior. We heard about your situation and decided to check it out. We need a place to rest as it was a long flight, so we could see what is going on in the morning.” Jeff said nonchalantly.
“Let me show you to Brad’s room. There are fresh towels on the beds if you need to take a shower and I can cook something if you need me to. Feel free to make yourself at home.” Mom replied.
“We do need a shower, but we are fine on food. Thanks, though.” Dale answered.
“Okay. Let me show you to his room.”
After Dale and Jeff had their showers, and got settled into Brad’s room, and after the dog was recaptured and put back into her cage, and after everyone else had went to bed, Brad tried to rest on the couch.
The next morning, Sam, Mandy, Brad, Jeff, and Dale headed to the hospital to see Bruce.
“My son! You made it! You actually made it! Although you didn’t have to bring him! You could’ve brought anyone else but him.” Bruce said as we entered the room.
“Dad, we are going to get you out of here so you can win a championship! Dale said oblivious to Bruce’s comments.
“Hold up! Let’s have a private conference, all of us! Brad glared at Dale with an air of finality.
“How are we going to do that when he isn’t even well enough to get out of the hospital, much less drive in a race?” Brad said.
“We were planning to convince the doctor that he is well, just mentally insane, and work it out from there.” Jeff returned.
“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll just stay out of your way so you can “pull the strings” you need to pull to get this done.”
That afternoon, the phone rang off the hook. After a million people had asked Brad “Is Jeff there?”, he got fed up and decided that he should know what went on.
“Jeff, what are all the calls for you about?” he asked suspiciously.
“Well, it seems to me that your driver is going to be entered into the Nextel Cup.” Jeff answered.
“How?”
“Dale called an old friend that hauled his dad’s car off the track when he died and asked him to restore it. I got him entered in the Nextel Cup so he could race legally. The doctors were convinced that he was temporarily insane and he is in fact able to drive as long as he doesn’t have to tell anyone his name, and Dale and I called our crew chiefs and told them to help him out.”
“What about sponsors?”
“What about them?”
“Doesn’t he need them?”
“Dale got his sponsor to sponsor your driver as well. Also, You and your family have tickets to all the races, plus free airfare, lodging, and you get to join the pit crews in the action!”
“Wow! Does Mom know about this?”
“Would she agree to go if she didn’t?”
“ Okay, okay. I get the drift. I just needed to check on you. The way you have been acting around here makes me very suspicious.”
“I have been acting suspicious? What do you call the way you have been acting when we first arrived?”
“I was just trying to do 23 million things at once since Mom had me clean every inch of the house, sweep the floor, wash the dishes, do the laundry, and anything else to drive me insane. I was stressed out of the wazoo, and had no way to vent.”
“I understand your pain. I can help with your chores while I am here.”
“No. You do not need to do that.”
Sure I do. You gave me inspiration when I was having the worst run of my life. The least I can do is help out an extremely loyal fan.”
“Thanks Jeff. Let’s go upstairs and pack up to go to North Carolina.”
When they arrived at Charlotte Motor Speedway, Brad went with the crew to their “spot” alongside pit row. The car was already there, along with Bruce, who was arguing with the crew chief that his helmet was on tight enough. Then, he told him that he needed all the advantages he could get, which meant that someone would have to radio to him on every crucial move he would need to make. They decided to give that “honor” to Brad, the NASCAR illiterate one. For someone with so little experience and knowledge, this “honor” could be a nightmare unless someone helped him out. Dale/Bruce’s crew chief chose this part of the job. With all this taking place, Brad thought that the end result couldn’t possibly be a good one. However, the other drivers heard of the situation and were very cordial about it. Some of the drivers even decided to help out. Tony Stewart cut off Matt Kenseth to let Bruce, Junior, and Jeff take First, Second, and Third, and kept it that way to the end of the race.
Every race thereafter was pretty much a repeat. Bruce was leading the point’s standings by a good margin, and Dale and Jeff were right behind him.
The final race was held in Daytona, and Brad’s friends took off from school to join him in pit row. He didn’t mind it when one of his best friends almost got hit with a runaway tire. He had no choice but to laugh, despite the fact that everything was going wrong for him. It didn’t start well for the crew, and by lap 193, it looked bleak. Bruce was in dead last and had no hopes of passing anyone. Then, Jeff did the unthinkable: he drifted a little too close to the side wall and scraped it. It wasn’t anything major, just a little fiberglass and paint were shed, but it was enough to draw the caution flag. When everyone slowed, the drivers began to split off into two rows. These two rows started drifting farther and farther apart, until there was a gap big enough for a car to drive through, which is what Bruce did. When the race resumed, Dale and Jeff paired off and lined up alongside Bruce’s back tires and slowed to match his speed. As if they were taking their cue from them, the other drivers followed suit until a pyramid spanned across the track. They crossed the finish line this way, and at the checkered flag, Dale Junior was sobbing.
“This is the greatest day of my life! I know that deep down, this is what my father wanted!” Dale said to Jeff over the radio.
“He probably did. Let’s go celebrate in victory lane!”
The crew headed to victory lane with Bruce. As soon they saw the others approaching, someone popped a cork off a bottle of champagne and started spraying the group with it. Only one person wasn’t shielding themselves from the foamy substance, and that was Bruce! Sam and Mandy managed to catch him when he fell.
Apparently, in the midst of the celebration, one of the corks flew off and hit him in the head, knocking him out instantly. Brad called the paramedics and they took him to the local hospital, where they found out that he had another major concussion, which reversed his memory, and brought him back to normal. Still, it was mid winter when they let him get back to driving the bus. The trophy makers made two copies of the trophy that year; one for Bruce to put in his room, and one for Dale to keep in his “Memory Room”, giving him a visual remembrance of the return of the Intimidator.


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