CHANGES... good and bad (Part 131b)

CHANGES... good and bad (Part 131b)

When I was racing full time I’d be nervous while waiting to go out onto the track but it would disappear once I was on it. On that night I didn’t have time to get nervous. On the track I remember driving past the starter’s stand and feeling no nerves at all. I pulled into my spot; front row, outside position, and then looking over at the car next to me. I didn’t know the driver but in the few weeks we’d been at the track to race I remembered him having all kinds of bad luck with things breaking or having flat tires. Since ”B“ hadn’t won but a few dollars it meant that he had won even less.

We made two parade laps before the green flag was waved. The last race I’d been in I crashed, hard, into that first turn fence but I never thought of it at all as I headed towards it. I had my foot on the accelerator pedal as hard as I could mash it and when the turn came up I never lifted my foot. The car made it and as it got to the straightaway I could see I’d almost passed the other car. Going into the third turn I did the same thing hoping that I’d make it again. I did and by the time I passed the starter’s stand for the first time I was in front. I stayed there until the last lap. That was where my rustiness in driving came into play as I drifted up the track and the guy who was following me got to the inside of me and pushed me out, beating me to the finish line by about a half car length.

At first I was disappointed that I didn’t win but as I pulled off the track and into the pits I realized that if I’d won they would’ve taken a picture... the last thing I wanted. Pulling into the pit space I could see the guys running towards the car. They were really excited. ”B“, because of his size, had to walk but I kept my eyes on him. It was easy to see that he wasn’t any where near as excited as the others. Waiting for him to reach the car I realized that for our ”switch“ to work, ”B“ had to at least act like the driver so I called him over and handed him the helmet and told him what I wanted him to do. He wasn’t to keen on it but I pleaded with him and he took a position, leaning against the car, with the helmet in his hand. Because there were two other qualifying races for our division I was thankful there weren’t many people who came over.

I could understand how ”B“ felt. I’d just shown him up, big time. I tried to make him feel a little better by telling him that, at the least, a prospective buyer would know that the car was somewhat competitive. It didn’t seem to help. He was really down so I told him that I wasn’t going to race in the feature race but that didn’t help. He didn’t want to talk so I went out to watch the faster cars. The ”unmarrieds“ followed me wanting to know what was going on with ”B“. When I told them I wasn’t going to drive in the main event they were shocked. Tom, who was the closest to ”B“, grabbed Martin and headed back to ”B“ and the car. I kept heading for the pit grandstand.

When those races were over the non qualifiers races followed. Because we’d been in that race since the season started there weren’t many surprises in the makeup of the field of cars so I headed back to where the car was parked. I saw this really tall guy talking with ”B“ and the others just standing around the two of them. When ”B“ saw me he called me over. Listening to the conversation it was obvious that the tall guy was interested in buying the car and that ”B“ was in a much better mood. I had no idea if a price had been discussed but what I did hear was ”B“ telling the guy that he wanted me to drive the car in the main event.

I tried to protest but the guy readily agreed and that left me in an unenviable position. If I raced and crashed, the deal, of course, would be nullified. I tried my best to get out of it citing the promise I’d made as well. But the guy reached into his wallet and pulled out four $100 bills and handed them to ”B“. Then he said ”B“ could keep whatever the car won and if I didn’t crash he’d give him another $50. With that I didn’t take just one deep breath as now I was really nervous.

However, just like almost always before, pulling out onto the track took all the nervousness away. Again, I was in the front row and the same car that had been beside me in the qualifying race was right there beside me. I knew I’d gotten the ”jump“ on him at the start of that race and pretty much knew it’d be hard to do again. But I really didn’t have a choice. I saw the green flag waving for the start and floored it. Once I got through the turn I found I was in second place which wasn't all that bad. The feature race was twice as many laps as the qualifying one and I immediately started wondering how long it would be before the faster cars, all of whom started behind me, would be banging on my back bumper.

There were a couple of crashes behind me that caused the race to be slowed (called ”cautions“) a few times but by the time I saw the starter hold out two sticks, parallel to the ground, indicating two laps to go I was still in second place. That’s when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw one of the fastest cars in our division right behind me. With one lap to go he passed me and I was now in third... where I ended up finishing. I was exhausted and glad it was over. Back in the pits it would’ve been hard to tell that we hadn’t won the race for all the excitement. The new owner was happy... ”B“ was happy... I was happy... but still worried about my secret.
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Just a note... That third place was the highest a Ford ”flathead“ finished for that whole season. By the next year there wasn’t even one racing at the track.
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We ended up celebrating by going to the restaurant that was owned by Bebe’s (Pete’s girlfriend) parents. We closed the place and I don’t remember how I got home. When I got up (eventually) Sunday morning my car wasn’t there. Elle had taken the kids to church and I was left to try and remember where I’d last seen it. I hadn’t been drunk in years and I was one hurting individual. It wasn’t quite noon when I heard a knocking sound. I was semi passed out in the recliner in the den and wasn’t sure where the noise I heard was coming from. When it finally came to me I answered the knock and saw Sabrina standing there with a wash basket in her hands. She wanted to know if she could use our wash line. The fog in my brain wouldn’t allow me to go back in time to the point that she’d asked me if it would be possible to use it when Elle was off at school. She reminded me of it and apologized for asking while we were home explaining that she’d been away most of the week. I knew Elle had done ours the previous day as I’d had to fight it while doing the lawn so said ”OK”. I was still too wasted to think about what might be hung on the wash line and went back to the recliner.

You don’t have to be married to know what it’s like when a woman gets really mad. When Elle and the kids arrived back home they immediately changed their clothes and headed for her mother’s house. She never spoke a word to me. The kids told me where they were going. The phone rang around 2pm and it was Martin telling me that he was bringing my car over. When he arrived he didn’t look that good either. He handed me the keys and then headed straight for the opening in the hedge and to Sabrina's. I knew he was in for a better afternoon than I was.

The wind came up, as usual, soon after that. I was standing next to my car and staring at Sabrina’s wash blowing in the breeze. All of a sudden the “fog” in my brain lifted as I saw a few panties among the items of clothing. I made my way out to the line, ducking under a sheet, to find about ten or so white panties staring me right in the face. I stood there for a minute not doing anything but trying to sort out just what I was going to do. My brain was operating like there was molasses in it. The first thing that came to me was that Elle probably wouldn’t be back for a few more hours. The next was that Martin would probably be occupied with Sabrina for a while. Once I had that figured out I started my “inspection“.

To be continued...