LIFE GOES ON… and on… (Part 171y)
Neither C J or Freddy had
any luck, both getting caught up in minor skirmishes that had them
finish in the middle of the pack of cars. Freddy’s crew elected to drive
back after the race but C J decided to join us by going back by ferry
in the morning. One thing I failed to mention was that Beth, Cliffy’s
wife hadn’t come with us, one of the few times since they’d been
married. But she’d used up all her sick time when she had the baby and
couldn’t get off from work. C J didn’t have his fan club with him so
there weren’t any females with his group either. There was minimal
partying as there wasn’t anything to celebrate. After C J collected his
winnings we were both off. We arrived at the ferry slip around 1am and
made the best of sleeping… me not so much. The ferry started the
boarding process around 6:30am and we were back at the garage around
9:30am or so. Cliffy’s father was there when we arrived and he told me
to call home right away. That was not a good thing. Elle answered and
without a hint of the ‘coolness’ she’d shown as I left the house the day
before, calmly told me to head for the hospital. My first thought was
something had happened to one of the kids. It was my mother who was
there. The initial diagnosis was food poisoning. While I was on the
phone Cliffy’s father had asked the others “What now?”.
It had
been over twelve hours since the motor exploded and none of us, Cliffy
included, had dared to address that subject. As I’ve stressed since
getting involved with this group that we had no business being in the
racing business. I think the reason there had been no discussion on what
we were going to do next among us was that we were all smart enough to
know the end had come. I told the others about my mother and told them
I’d catch up with them later. I don’t remember anything that anyone
offered up as an answer to the ‘what now’ question before I left.
It
was about a twenty minute trip to the hospital. She was resting
comfortably and my father told me to go home and to come back later as
she was in no danger. The ‘culprit’ as to her food poisoning was
believed to have been chicken salad that had been unrefrigerated for too
long. On my way home I stopped back at the garage just to see if anyone
had come up with an idea of just what we should do. I couldn’t believe
it when I saw the guys pulling the blown motor out of the car. I knew I
wasn’t going to stay but I had to ask what was going on. Back a few
years, when Cliffy was just starting out, his father tried different
brands of motors trying to come up with a cheap alternative to the very
expensive Ford motor. He still had a Pontiac motor lying on the floor of
the bus garage and offered it up to the guys. Hearing that and watching
them work on getting it into the car I thought they were crazy. I told
them I had to get home, cleaned up and back to the hospital. No one
complained as I walked away. Driving home I still couldn’t believe they
were trying to go racing that night.
I spent the afternoon with
my mother so my father could take care of some things. I got back home
in time for supper and Elle was acting like nothing had happened to
upset her. She did make one comment that I picked up on though and it
had to do with the play. As we finished up she said she was going to
call Paula to tell her not to come over. I didn’t know how to read it at
first but soon got the gist of it… I was taking the girls to see the
play. I kept my mouth shut and went along with it hoping that was all
the ‘punishment’ that she’d dole out. When she was getting dressed to
leave I observed that she had on a ‘full package’ and asked how it had
worked the night before. When all I got was the short answer of “The
same…” I wished I’d kept quiet.
To be truthful, the play was much
better when seeing it in sequence. One thing I noticed was that the
lighting was much better than it had been after it was determined the
borrowed spot lights couldn’t be used. The fire department loaned some
of their battery operated portable ones and it seemed to work. All in
all, the play had been a success with both nights being sold out. When
the cast was mingling with the audience after it was over I’d overheard
some people talking about an after show party. Not entirely happy about
having to be with the kids for the show I became immediately thankful
they were there when the party talk came up. Elle, who I’d surmised as
being soaked after four hours, really shocked me when she said she’d get
a ride home later.
I got home around 10pm and got the girls
right to bed. After that I allowed my mind to wander back to the race
car and what had happened with the old Pontiac motor that night. From
there my mind went to the obvious… our racing days were over. Being a
banker my thoughts went to wondering how much we could get by selling
just the car. This was the fourth season for it and I’d heard many of
the good, competitive teams would build a new car every year. We’d paid
$1,000 for it, with a motor, and Cliffy had been told it was probably
worth $3,000 at that time. Sitting there thinking I came up with an
arbitrary figure of $1,500 because of the relatively new rear end we’d
installed the previous year. If we got that much we’d all pretty much
get our investment back. Coming up with that was enough for me to shut
thoughts about racing down for the night.
Elle got home just at
midnight. I’d been worried about how she was handling her incontinence
and that was heightened when I saw her. When wearing a ‘full package’
out in public she always wore a dress or skirt. When we left for the
show it was a little before 7pm and now it was midnight and she was
wearing slacks. I didn’t want to be outwardly concerned so casually
observed that she’d changed clothes. I remember the sheepish smile I got
with that but she didn’t say anything. When we got upstairs she offered
that the party had been at the house of the lady who I’d watched
struggle to get part of her costume on during rehearsals and given me
the big peek. I’d felt pretty confident that none of the three women in
the changing area that night had been aware of me so, upon hearing that,
asked if that’s where she got her change of clothes. By that time she’d
started to undress and I was anxiously awaiting to see what panties she
was wearing. It was a first for me. I was completely dumbstruck.
Looking at her front side I didn’t think I saw a crotch line but I only
had a quick glance. When she turned to walk down the hall to the
bathroom I didn’t see one on the back of the panties either. I really
wanted to know who made them. When she returned she’d put on her night
time ‘package’ and was carrying the panties in her hand and laid them on
the chair with the borrowed clothes she’d been wearing. She climbed
into bed without saying anything and turned out the light by her side of
the bed. I quickly made a decision to grab the panties and head for the
bathroom myself. As I did I tried to remember the lady and remembered
her as being a little ‘round’. Once in the bathroom I found that I
hadn’t imagined the lack of a crotch line. The crotch ran from the waist
elastic in the front in an inverted “V” and continued uninterrupted all
the way to the waist elastic in the back with the “V” reversing itself.
If that wasn’t enough to contemplate, the inside of the crotch was
brushed nylon. However, there was no label to identify the maker. That
was a disappointment. As you can imagine I wanted them for my “stash”
but knew there was no way. I returned them to where I found them but
Elle was awake and waiting for me. As I walked in I heard her say “Did
you find them interesting?”
To be continued...
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