MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159c)

MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159c)

Bret was waiting for me at work on Monday. With all of his racing friends he’d heard that my car had won on Saturday night and he wanted to hear all about it. He’d expressed his sincere desire to have been able to go to the races not only to see my car but also to see one of his good friends make his debut at a new track. “CJ” or, as I knew him, Chet, was a classmate of Bret’s in high school. Two other classmates (that I’ve written about quite a while ago) got into racing while in school and Chet worked on their pit crews. On a dare he drove one of their cars in warm-ups one night and became ‘hooked’. However, he didn’t have any money but eventually was able to persuade his father to back him. He (Chet) started driving in races at the same time I did only he was in the faster class of cars. For reasons that I still don’t understand, his father (known as “Seeg”), took a liking to me and was a tremendous help in keeping me racing. Chet started off being competitive in with the ‘good’ cars and won a couple of feature races in his rookie year. From there he went on to be a multiple time track champion. During those years another “Chet” started racing and the track announcer decided to use the original Chet’s initials to avoid confusion. Thus, he began being known as and called CJ. He was far superior to the other cars and was finally persuaded to move to the track that Cliffy was racing at for not only the better competition but also for more money. Bret was excited for his friend but unhappy that he’d be unable to go to all his races. Then, when I got involved with Cliffy it made him doubly upset to have missed the races.

So, he wanted to know, blow by blow, what had taken place. Of course I was more than willing to tell him about the WHOLE night. It was hard to get into the business at hand but by mid morning or so I was back into the ‘banking mode’. I had to go to the vault to witness a cash count and as I walked past Trish’s desk I saw a cop standing there. She wasn’t there so I stopped to see if I could help. It was the cop who’d helped me locate the missing purse of the drunk lady only I didn’t recognize him in uniform. He wanted to know how the car had done and, of course, I told him.  I got so involved with him that Liz, the Auditor, had to come get me to witness the cash count. As he was leaving he said it was intention to be at the races on Saturday night. It was ‘heady’ stuff being a winner!

Cliffy had taken the race car hauler back to his father’s service garage after the races and we’d all agreed to unload the car and gear on Monday evening. It was not a shock to Elle when I headed off. At the garage there were about eight or nine people gathered around the hauler with the car still loaded on the back. Walking up to them I immediately recognized Davo, the 6’5” guy who I’d played basketball with earlier in the year. He had his girlfriend with him. I knew her from the fact that her mother was the school nurse. She was not particularly pretty but a winsome smile made her somewhat attractive. A ’solid’ girl with a fair amount of ‘shape' to her, it was impossible for me not to look at her wondering what she was wearing under her slacks. However, with all the others gathered around waiting to congratulate Cliffy there wasn’t much opportunity. Another among the group was Davo’s friend, Adam, who’d also played basketball. After the team had broken up I found out that he and I were related through a marriage in the family.

In any case, it was almost dark before we got the car and gear unloaded. By the time we got to work on the car there had probably been over two dozen people stop by to congratulate Cliffy… the benefit of living in a small town. Among those who’d stopped were two guys who stood out by the fact they were actually looking for information on how to get into racing at the level that Cliffy was at. I’d raced against one of them but never really got to know him before selling my car. His father ran an auto body shop about three miles down the road. They seemed sincere and offered to help out on our pit crew. When they did it triggered a comment that Cliffy had made to me when we’d gone to the practice session a few weeks earlier. I don’t remember the exact words but it was along the lines of how everyone likes to ride the coattails of a winner. He’d said it when looking at the number of guys helping out a competitors car, the reigning track champion, and then looking at our five guys. Here he was having just won his first race and now there were people lining up to support and help him.

We’d all agreed we wanted to be out of there by 11pm and Cliffy chased everybody out and closed down the doors right at eleven. I’d mentioned earlier that we’d forgotten to pick up our winnings ($1,000) while at the track and Cliffy had called that morning only to find out we’d have to wait until Saturday night to get it. He’d inspected the tires and felt they were marginal for another night of racing. They’d made it in spite of the prognostication that they wouldn’t even last one night. I remember him saying that they better last because after he won using the new type tire, competitors had bought out the complete supply tires the company made up. As soon as he said it I remembered my thoughts of Sunday morning. Now not only would we have to wait for our money to buy more tires but would have to wait for tires themselves. It was not a comforting thought.

To be continued…