Overdrive (3 page)

AFTER ANOTHER WORKOUT
with the trainer, who was more like a drill sergeant, Jamie felt good but exhausted. She showered and dressed, then had a light lunch and headed to the afternoon meeting in the video room. Each day was different, with some people going to the track and some to the simulators. Her individual media training was coming up, and Jamie dreaded it. The camera scared her more than a line of cars trying to pass her on the backstretch at Brickyard. Some had already gone through the training, and one had been sent home afterward.

On the way to dinner Jamie phoned her mother and told her all she’d been through that day. Funny how she never felt like talking with her mom when she was in the house, but when she was away, she enjoyed it, even looked forward to it.

“How’s Tim?” Jamie said.

Her mother sighed. “We’re kind of at a loss for what to do. He won’t talk about what he did, and your dad insists we not take care of it for him. He wants Tim to work it out himself.”

“But he’s only a high schooler,” Jamie said.

“True, but your dad thinks it’s best and I agree.”

“Sounds like a tough situation for everybody.”

“Tim’s really good with Kellen, and your dad says he shows a lot of promise in the garage. Now that school is out . . . well, we’ll see what happens.”

Jamie reached the dining room of the restaurant, and Kurt waved at her. “Gotta go. I’m having dinner with a friend.”

“Is he cute?”

Jamie laughed. “Bye, Mom.”

Kurt was sitting with Rosa Romero, another student who had welcomed Jamie and seemed nice.

Jamie went through the buffet line and picked out her food, then sat with the two.

“Hear about the new guy?” Rosa said.

“New guy?” Jamie said. “How could there be a new guy?”

Rosa shook her head. “Somebody with money must have pulled a few strings, because he’s here. He was in the simulators last night, trying stuff out. He should be in class tomorrow.”

“But they’ve already sent home a bunch of kids,” Jamie said. “That’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and racing,” Kurt said in his best Bud Watkins impersonation. “You know that, little missy.”

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. “I almost got sent home because they thought I wasn’t tough enough. How can they let somebody come in after we’ve been here so long?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rosa said. “We have to keep our heads and work to get through this.”

“That’s why we wanted to talk to you,” Kurt said.

“You mean this isn’t just friendly dinner conversation?” Jamie felt a little hurt but smiled to hide it.

Kurt wolfed some hamburger and leaned closer. “Everybody here is racing for themselves, trying to get those coveted licenses. But you know that’s not the way they do it in the big show. They have teammates. The team works together on the track.”

“What are you saying?” Jamie said.

Kurt wiped his mouth with a napkin. “The sooner we make an alliance with like-minded people, the better off we’ll be. We don’t have to announce it to anybody, but before we get to the track, it’ll be good to know there are other people out there blocking for us, giving us a chance to lead a few laps, that kind of thing.”

“Makes sense,” Jamie said. “But the others could figure it out. And what if Bud—?”

“There’s nothing illegal about what we’re doing,” Rosa said. “In fact, it’ll probably impress the instructors that we’re working together.”

Jamie nodded. “But there’s no guarantee we’ll be on the track together. They could catch on and put us in different heats.”

“Then we bring on others we can trust.” Kurt looked around. “You’ve seen the hotshots here. The ones with the swagger that think they’ll win the cup next year if they can just get a license and get signed on by one of the big racing teams.”

Jamie stuck out a hand. Kurt shook it; then Rosa did.

“It’s a deal, then,” Jamie said. “We’ll watch each other’s backs as much as possible.”

Someone approached the table behind Jamie, and Kurt and Rosa looked up.

“Well, this looks like a mighty friendly table,” a familiar voice said.

Jamie turned. The guy had on a black jacket and flashed a million-dollar smile at her. Every hair was in place as he glided toward the table and held out a bottle.

“Brought you some Yoo-hoo,” Chad Devalon said.

TIM SAT CROSS-LEGGED
and hunched over lawn mower parts strewn about the driveway in front of the Maxwells’ garage. Everyone in the family had chores, and Kellen had dibs on mowing the front lawn. The back lawn was more like a field, and Dale did that with a tractor and a brush hog. Tim took out the trash, cleaned up after the dog, Petty, and did other odds and ends Mrs. Maxwell assigned him. He wasn’t thrilled about all the work, but it kept him busy. He was here because Kellen couldn’t get the mower started, and one thing led to another and Tim had the whole thing apart.

A shadow crossed the driveway, and Tim could tell by the size of it who it was.

“It’s dinnertime. Why don’t you come on in?” Dale said.

“I’m kind of in the middle of this. If it’s all right, I’d like to finish.”

“I know what it feels like to start something and want to get it back together.” Dale knelt and looked at the parts. “What do you think’s the problem?”

“Well, I know it’s not the gas because the tank is full. I checked that first in case you thought I was numb in the head.”

Dale chuckled. “I’ve done that before.”

“Then I pulled off the fuel filter and gave it a good cleaning, and I checked the line, but it’s clear. Air filter was a little dirty, but I cleaned that too.”

“You check the plug?”

“That’s what I looked at next. Found a new one in the garage and put it in. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Was the old one scuzzy looking?”

“Yeah, it probably still had a little fire to it, but I figured a new one would light it up, but no go. So my next move was—”

“Carburetor,” Dale said.

Tim nodded. “You drain the gas tank last winter?”

“No, but it’s been running all spring.”

“I’ve seen them run and then get gummed up.”

“How do you know so much about engines?” Dale said.

“My dad taught me a thing or two. Plus, I hung
around with some of the guys in the garage. Kind of comes naturally.”

Dale retrieved a can of cleaner from the garage, and Tim put the mower back together.

Mrs. Maxwell called to them, but Dale told her they’d be a few more minutes. “Want to see if he gets this thing cranking.”

Tim adjusted the screws for the air and gas mixture and stood. “Why don’t you give it a pull?”

“No way,” Dale said. “You do it.”

Tim yanked the rope and the engine coughed. He adjusted the choke a little as Kellen walked out. One more pull and the thing fired and started.

Dale whooped and clapped, and Kellen high-fived Tim.

“You can mow after dinner,” Dale said to Kellen. “Go on in and tell your mom we’re gonna clean up.”

Kellen went into the house, and Dale handed Tim some Goop to clean his hands. He leaned against a workbench in their home garage and got the grime off, then wiped his hands on a towel.

“We need to talk about a couple of things, and the first is the safe-deposit box,” Dale said. “That letter you took was addressed to somebody else. You can’t do that. It would be like you opening our mail.”

“I’d never do that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. But you understand that was wrong.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t hang your head like a whipped puppy. I’m not coming down on you. I can understand why you’d do it, and I can’t say that I blame you.”

“I guess there was probably a better way to do it,” Tim said.

Dale nodded. “Like it or not, Tyson has control of that box. You want to see it, he has to give permission.”

“I can’t talk to him again,” Tim said. “I’d rather swim across that big lake out there with milk jugs tied to my ankles.”

Dale looked like he was trying not to smile. “I understand. Again, I don’t blame you. But I have to ask something. You want to know what’s in that box?”

Tim nodded.

Dale put up both hands. “There you go.” He came over to Tim and stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “Sometimes we let people get big. They get this choke hold on us, and we let them get bigger and bigger because we don’t stand up to them.”

“You talking about Tyson or that Devalon guy?”
Tim said. “He sure seems to have a choke hold on your driving.”

Dale rubbed his face and glanced sideways at Tim. “Let’s keep this about you for now.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ve talked with my lawyer, and he says you could go to court and try to get access. He doesn’t think that’s a good idea. It would cost a lot of money, and you’d probably lose. For whatever reason, your dad appointed Tyson as the executor of his estate. My lawyer says the best thing is to talk to Tyson. Convince him you want to see what’s in there.”

“Sounds easy for a lawyer to say. He didn’t have to live with the guy and his wife.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy. But I think this is the best approach. Sometimes you have to face the things that scare you the most.”

Tim stared at the floor. There was sawdust down there from some woodworking project Kellen had begun. He put the toe of his shoe in it and pushed it around, making a face in the dust.

Dale leaned back against the wall. “This is the last piece of the puzzle with your father. Closes the loop. What do you think?”

“I guess if it’s the only way, I can talk to him. Maybe I’ll stay here tonight and call him while you guys go to church.”

Dale hesitated. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

“What’s the other thing you want to talk about?” Tim said.

Dale turned and stretched. He had strong forearms, and Tim could tell he worked out a lot. Maybe not at a gym like some of the drivers but around the farm. Lifting stuff. Running in the backyard with Kellen.

“I want you to think about something. I believe God gives every one of us some kind of gift to use for his glory. A desire he plants deep down inside. Something you long for, that’s on your mind when you wake up in the morning and when you go to sleep at night. Sometimes it feels like you can taste it. You know what I’m talking about?”

Tim shrugged. “I’ve always dreamed of being a driver.”

“That’s what I went after when I was your age. You drive much?”

“Little go-karts but I wasn’t very good. Do you think a kid who can’t drive a go-kart could race a big car?”

Dale laughed. “Sure. But there’s something I see in you, that I’ve noticed over the past few weeks, that makes me think God’s pushing you in another direction.”

“What’s that?”

Dale moved to the garage door and pointed at the lawn mower. “Do you know how many people could diagnose an engine problem like you did—walk through all the steps and tear it apart, then put it back together? And I don’t mean kids your age. I mean grown men. They’d get frustrated and take it to a mechanic in no time flat.”

“Wasn’t nothing special,” Tim said.

“That’s where you’re wrong. It
is
special. And if you apply yourself and learn, you could have what it takes to be on a team.”

“A racing team?”

“That’s right. And if you’re game, I’m thinking of giving you a position at the garage. It won’t be anything fancy. You’ll have to sweep up and do a lot of gofer work to start. But the guys there can teach you things and help you develop your gift. Who knows where it could take you. Some of the best crew chiefs in—”

“Crew chief? Is that what you think I should be?”

“Some of the best crew chiefs got their start by knowing the ins and outs of the engine. They can listen to a car and tell whether or not it’s going to finish strong. They know they can’t drive, but they’re even-keeled enough to take the heat of the war wagon. They’re good with people, they’re not full of themselves, and they know that everybody contributes—
not just the driver and the pit crew but
everybody
who works on that team. Yeah, I think you’d be a great mechanic. You’d be a great crew chief someday. But you have to work on it and keep learning every aspect of the car.”

Tim looked out at the lawn mower, and something inside clicked. No one had ever talked to him this way—not even his father. His dad had told him he could fix engines and maybe be on a team, but to nail his dreams and give Tim real hope was new. He’d always felt like he’d wind up on life’s garbage heap, poking around the edges to find scraps of happiness and fulfillment. But to hear Dale Maxwell, it sounded like he believed Tim could be anything he wanted to be. That not even the sky was the limit to what he could do.

“When could I start at your garage?” Tim said.