Overdrive (9 page)

TIM FELT OUT OF PLACE
in the hotel restaurant where everyone went that evening. When he and his dad ate out, it had usually been at places where you could get a burger or a taco in a few seconds. This place was a lot nicer, and with all the dirt Tim had on him, he went to the bathroom and scrubbed his hands.

While he was in there, the #2 driver came in, banging the door against the wall and stalking like Godzilla. Behind him were Chad Devalon and the guy Jamie called Lead Foot. The bathroom had two sections, and the three went on the other side of the wall to talk.

“It was a dirty move and you know it,” the #2 driver said.

“Yeah, Kenny, it was dirty, but you weren’t racing her. You were blocking her,” Chad said.

“You should have just kept that line
at the bottom,” Lead Foot said. “I don’t think she could have caught you.”

“Too late now,” Kenny said. “I’m out. And you guys are in.”

“We’ll get her back for you,” Chad said.

The urinal flushed and Tim didn’t hear what they said next. He tossed his paper towel in the trash and headed for the door.

Chad noticed him. “Well, if it isn’t the Maxwell grease monkey. You get all the grime out from under those fingernails? Wouldn’t want the girls in there to get grossed out by your bad hygiene.”

Tim pushed past them.

But Kenny put his hand on the door and blocked him. “Tell that girl of yours she’d better watch her back tomorrow. We don’t like dirty drivers.”

Tim was going to walk away, but something sparked inside him and he turned. “She beat you fair and square. You know she’s a better driver than you. Better than all three of you.”

Lead Foot laughed. “Looks like Grease Monkey has a girlfriend.”

Chad shook his head and scrunched his face. “You
do
like her, don’t you? Must be hard living that close to somebody and knowing she’ll never see you as anything but an oil jockey.”

Kenny scoffed. “He’s lucky that family took him
in. I can see it from Maxwell’s point of view. He gets somebody to change his oil and mow his yard for just three meals a day and a place to sleep.”

Chad took off his sunglasses. It was the first time Tim had actually seen the guy’s eyes. “You know Jamie goes for guys like me.”

“She hates your guts,” Tim said.

Lead Foot laughed. “Yeah, that’s why she eats dinner with him just about every day.”

“Jamie has a thing for me. That’s no secret. And she wishes she could drive as well as I can.”

“She’s going down tomorrow,” Kenny said. “Better have a box of Kleenex over there in the pits for after the race. She’s gonna need them.”

Tim grabbed the door handle and stared at them.

The guys stepped away, and Chad put his sunglasses back on. “Enjoy your meal.”

JAMIE DIDN’T HAVE
a chance to talk with Rosa at the track, and she looked forward to seeing her at dinner. A few of the drivers shook her dad’s hand and said hello. They all said, “Good job out there” to Jamie and she smiled, but until she got on the track and proved herself in the final race, the words felt empty.

Tim came to the table but didn’t look at Jamie. Everybody was acting squirrelly at a time when they should have been celebrating.

Kurt sat a few booths away, and Jamie went over and asked if he’d seen Rosa. He shook his head. “Saw her go to the elevator, but she didn’t look in the mood to talk.”

“Sorry you didn’t make it into the finals,” Jamie said.

“Maybe if we’d have been in the same race we’d have both made it,” he
said. “Congrats. You’re gonna have your hands full tomorrow.”

Jamie picked at her food as Kellen talked about a movie he’d seen, quoting the funny stuff the characters had said and laughing so hard he snorted. Jamie only half listened. She was thinking about her strategy from the back of the pack. That and Rosa. She excused herself from the table and hurried to Rosa’s room and knocked on the door. The TV was up loud—a music channel.

The sound clicked off. “What?” Rosa said.

“Housekeeping,” Jamie said. It was their inside joke. Anytime somebody said something in a class or butted into a conversation they’d look at each other and mouth “housekeeping,” for the staff at the hotel that always seemed to come to make the bed at the worst time.

Rosa didn’t laugh. “Go away.”

“Rosa, come on. I need to talk.”

“You need to go away.” Her voice was choked, and it reminded Jamie of her own voice after she’d had a fight with her parents.

Finally Rosa opened the door enough for Jamie to see her red eyes.

“Look. I’m really sorry about the race. I—”

“You have no idea what this means,” Rosa interrupted. “Do you know what it took to get me to this
place? I
had
to get into the finals for there to be any chance of me ever making it in racing.”

“That’s not true,” Jamie said. “You can bounce back from this. Just chalk it up to experience and—”

“There’s stuff you don’t know,” Rosa sobbed. “My mom works at a hotel like this. In housekeeping. I’ve worn hand-me-down clothes all my life, and I’ve driven cars other people didn’t want, and I’ve tried so hard.”

“I’m really sorry. I tried to help you out there, and I would have pushed you across the finish line if I could have. . . .”

The elevator door opened, and another driver got off.

Also on the elevator was Bud Watkins. He held the door. “You two coming down?”

When Rosa heard Bud’s voice, she closed the door, disengaged the lock, and stormed out, still in her fire suit. “This was unfair and you know it,” she said, tears starting, her jaw set. “You said there’d be a level playing field, but it’s not anywhere near level.”

“There’s probably a better place to talk about this,” Bud said, taking his hand off the elevator door.

Rosa put her hand there. “No. This is good. Letting that Chad guy in on our racing school, especially after other people had been let go, is not fair.”

“You should have said something earlier.”

“I couldn’t say anything because you’d have pinned my ears back. If that Chad guy hadn’t been here, I would have made it into the finals.”

“Maybe,” Bud said. “But that’s the way things go in racing. It’s a good lesson to learn. There’s a lot of things that aren’t fair. Like what’s happened to . . .” Bud looked at Jamie.

“What?” Jamie said.

“Nothing. I’ll announce it at our—”

“No, Mr. Watkins. What are you talking about?”

Bud sighed and looked at the elevator floor, then the buttons, then the ceiling. Everywhere but at Jamie and Rosa. Finally he cleared his throat. “There’s a problem with one of the cars. No way we can fix it by tomorrow.”

“What kind of problem?” Jamie said.

“That’s not important. The point is, we’re down to 10 cars. You had the lowest qualifying time of any of those in the finals. That means you’re out.”

IT LOOKED LIKE SOMEONE
had hit Jamie in the center of the gut with a telephone pole and then whacked her again as she walked back to their table. Her mom and dad asked what was wrong, and she told them. Tim thought it took a lot of guts not to cry about it—girl or guy, that kind of news was devastating. To work as hard as she had obviously worked and not get into the finals had to hurt.

“What's wrong with the car?” Tim said.

“Yeah,” Kellen said. “Tim can fix it.”

Jamie shook her head. “On the last lap, one of the cars blew a piston right out the side of the engine block. Bud said it looks like somebody took a shotgun to the thing. It's that bad.”

Dale nodded. “That'll take some time.”

“What about the car Devalon said you could use?” Kellen said. “You know, the orange one.”

A spark came into Jamie's eyes. “We could get it over here tomorrow morning, couldn't we, Dad?”

“If they'll let you,” Dale said. “We can bring it over tonight.”

Jamie ran off to the front of the room to talk with the main guy, who looked like he enjoyed telling her no. She came back, shoulders slumped, and it was clear what had happened.

“Why can't you use it?” Kellen said.

“It's not an approved car here. He said it wouldn't be fair.” She put quotation marks around the “wouldn't be fair” part with her fingers.

“I'll tell you what's not fair—letting Chad in at the 11th hour,” Mrs. Maxwell said.

Tim watched Dale. The man's mind was going, trying to figure a way around the situation. Tim had seen this happen before with drivers and crew chiefs. They were given a problem and then had to figure out an answer. But Tim could also tell the guy was holding back a lot of input. Maybe he wanted this to be Jamie's fight and was struggling with not getting too involved. Tim respected that because any other parent would have been jumping down the organizer's throat.

The main guy, who had a name badge on that said
Bud Watkins
, walked over to the table and shook
hands with Dale. “I'm really sorry about all this, but I don't think there's anything we can do.”

“We appreciate you considering all the options,” Dale said. “She's worked really hard to get into the finals.”

Jamie just gritted her teeth. Kellen nibbled at some cold chicken fingers. Mrs. Maxwell had a napkin in her hand balled up tighter than a baseball.

“Can't we postpone the race?” Jamie said.

Bud shook his head. “We're opening up the stands for the finals. Plus, one of the racing channels said they're sending a crew to do limited coverage. They'll be here tonight to set up.”

“Maybe it'll rain,” Kellen said.

Tim wiped his mouth with a napkin as Bud turned to leave. “Excuse me, sir?” Tim said. He couldn't believe that was actually his voice coming out of his mouth.

Bud turned and squinted at him.

“This is Tim Carhardt,” Dale said. “He's staying with our family now.”

“Carhardt?” Bud said. “Are you Martin's boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim said.

“I'm real sorry about what happened,” Bud said. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh, I was looking around in the garage and saw another car under a tarp. Another #4 car.”

Bud looked at Dale and snickered. “Snoopy little buzzard, isn't he? What about it?”

“Well, it looks like the same size engine. The body's dinged up and the paint's peeling, but if it'll run, why couldn't Jamie race that one?”

“The body damage isn't the problem,” Bud said. “The truck arm bar snapped. That goes from the axle—”

“I know where it goes,” Tim interrupted. “We can fix that, and I'd bet Jamie doesn't care what the thing looks like.” He stole a glance at Jamie, and there was fire in her eyes.

Bud rubbed his stubbly beard and looked around the dining room.

“I'm willing to work on it all night if we have to,” Tim added.

“Me too,” Kellen said.

“Where would you get the parts?” Bud said.

“We've got parts in our garage,” Dale said.

Bud took in some air through his clenched teeth and glanced at Dale. Tim noticed a smile come over Dale's face as he lifted his eyebrows as if to say,
Why not?

“Stay here. I'll be right back,” Bud said.

“I've never seen that other car down there,” Jamie said when Bud was gone.

Tim shrugged.

“If I get in that race tomorrow, it'll be because of your idea.”

Though he tried not to, Tim blushed. He walked over to the ice cream machine to make a sundae and stayed there, lingering over the sprinkles and the nuts and the caramel sauce, then the chocolate.

Bud returned a few minutes later after talking with someone at the front of the dining room and then calling someone on a cell phone. When he walked over to the Maxwell table, Tim watched. At first, he couldn't read anything from their faces. Then Jamie let out a squeal and jumped in the air and actually
hugged
the old Watkins guy.

Tim just laughed.