Speed Freak (12 page)

THE LAST FRIDAY
of the holidays I jumped on a train and went to visit my mother. It was a risk, because I hadn’t let her know her I was coming. But, as far as I could tell, she and her man never strayed far from their land.

I sat on the train and tried to work out exactly what I wanted to ask her. No, bugger it, I knew what I wanted to ask:
Tell me the truth about why you ran off and left me.
I wasn’t sure how you asked a question like that. What it amounted to was that we didn’t know each other well. In my head there was a list of information about her:

It wasn’t much to know about your mother. I knew I should take more notice of her emails but, actually, I just skimmed over them to make sure she wasn’t dying or anything. To
be honest, they were pretty boring. She tried. That was important, I guess.

I walked the couple of ks from the station. Turned off the road into the long driveway leading up to the house, and caught sight of her working in amongst some bushes. I vaulted the fence.

‘Hi, Mum!’

She straightened up and a big smile broke out. ‘Archie!’ She started running towards me. No doubt about it, she was pleased to see me. She hugged me, wiped at her eyes and said, ‘I can’t believe it! You’re here! Come into the house and I’ll make you a drink. Anselm will be thrilled to see you, too.’

I held back. ‘Mum, I want to talk to you first. Ask you a few things.’

She stopped walking, hugged her arms around her body, then nodded. ‘All right. Come into the shed.’ She led the way into a shed full of gardening gear. She pulled a couple of stools out from under a bench. ‘Sit down.’ She looked straight at me. It was uncanny — it was like looking at my own eyes in a mirror. ‘You want to know why I abandoned you.’ It wasn’t a question.

I frowned, trying to untangle my thoughts. ‘I didn’t ever feel abandoned. I just … look, I know you and Dad both say it was nothing to do with me. But I’ve still got this idea in the back of my head. Would you have stayed if I hadn’t got into karting?’

There it was. Out in the open. Plain and simple.

Her eyes filled with tears.
Oh great. Visit your mum and make her cry.

‘No. That had nothing to do with it. I promise you.’

Yeah, I’d heard that before. Still didn’t believe it. And it didn’t answer the other big question. ‘Why didn’t
you take me with you? Don’t get me wrong — Dad’s brilliant. We have the best life. But usually …’

‘Mothers take the kids with them,’ she finished for me. She smiled at me — it was a creaky sort of smile but it was better than the tears. ‘Do you know how old I am, Archie?’

What? My face got hot because I didn’t have a clue. I knew how old Dad was. Forty-four. His birthday was Guy Fawke’s day. I said, ‘Your birthday’s in April. The twenty-third.’ I always sent her a card and rang her up. If I could think what to get, I’d buy her a present too, which meant she got something about every third year. But I didn’t know how old she was.

‘I’m thirty-three. I was just two years older than you are now when I had you.’

I was still getting my head around that when she went on, ‘I’m not excusing myself. Lots of girls have babies young, and lots of them do a great job of being mums. But I couldn’t do it. I tried, and I tried to believe that Bill was my soulmate. I was in a pretty bad state. We went to counselling, but all that did was show up the gap between us.’

This was so different from the story in my head. Freaky. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for the rest of it.

‘To cut a miserable story short — we put you in day care while I got a job. It was such a relief.’

‘The job, or getting rid of me?’

She frowned at me. ‘Try and understand, Archie. Think how you’d cope with a baby. I was terrified of babies. I was horrified by what I’d let happen to my life. When other people saw this … object … they’d coo and say things like
Isn’t he gorgeous! You must be so proud. He’s adorable.
I felt useless.’

‘So you walked out?’

‘After another five years. Yes. I left. I met Anselm at a course in organic gardening. Six months later, I went to live with him and told Bill I wasn’t coming back.’

‘Did he mind?’ I had no memory of any of this.

She winced. ‘He minded all right. He was very bitter. Said some nasty things, and said he’d fight me every step of the way if I tried to take you with me.’

I stared at her. None of that sounded like the father I knew. Bitter? Nasty?

She looked sad. ‘Divorce can bend people out of shape, Archie. I didn’t try to contact him. I knew if I kept quiet he’d get back in touch eventually. And he did. He was sorry he’d said the bad stuff, but he was firm about keeping you.’

I had a feeling that she was working herself up to the crunch point, to tell me the thing I possibly didn’t want to hear. I was right.

She looked at me as she said it. ‘I didn’t fight for you, Archie. I didn’t fight because I knew I didn’t want to be a mother. Every time I thought about it, it felt like a weight falling on me. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but that’s the truth of it. I’ve taken good care never to get pregnant again.’

She shut up then and we sat in silence with our thoughts. Don’t know what hers were, but mine were tearing around in all directions. All I could think of to say was, ‘Thanks for telling me the truth, Mum. It’s good to know the whole story.’ It was so different from the story I’d had in my head.

‘You know, Archie — I was so lucky I had the sense to get pregnant to a man as good as Bill. I’d been leading a wild life till he rescued me from a fight on the street one
night. He took me back to his flat and cleaned the blood off me. And I just stayed on. We didn’t get together until I’d been there for several months, but he kept an eye on me and it was a real novelty to have somebody look out for me. I stopped the drinking. Didn’t go looking for drugs. We sort of drifted into a relationship, and when I got pregnant we got married and moved into a place of our own.’

‘Then I came along and spoiled it all.’

She pulled her mouth down. ‘Babies do that, Archie. They cry, they sick up and they smell bad. I tried to pretend you were a puppy, but it didn’t help.’

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. ‘So what you’re saying is that it was bloody lucky for me that Dad kept me?’

But she shuddered. ‘I hate to think what I’d have done if he hadn’t, Archie. I really do.’ She stood up. ‘Can I get you something to eat and drink now? Or do you want to run for the hills?’

‘It’s sweet,’ I said. ‘Food would be good.’

We went to the house, collecting Anselm along the way. He wasn’t a bad bloke, he just wasn’t my sort of bloke. As we ate sandwiches and drank tea we made polite conversation, and I understood finally that I’d have been a miserable kid if I’d had to grow up with him as my father, because nothing he talked about was the slightest bit interesting to me. They asked me about school, but they didn’t ask about the karting.

Mum drove me to the station. Along the way she said, ‘Is it working out with Erica?’

‘Yeah. They get on good. Felix is okay too.’

‘I’m glad. Your dad’s a good man.’ She pulled up, but put her hand on my arm to stop me getting out. ‘Archie — you’ve got a girlfriend? Be careful. Look after her, I
mean. You don’t want to be a father before you’re ready.’

‘Jeez, Mum!’

She let me go. We did the goodbye kiss thing, and I jumped on to the train with a lot to think about. My mother had been a drunk, druggie wild child. Maybe Dad knew what he was doing when he got together with Erica this time round.

AT DINNER THAT
night I said, as casually as I could, ‘I went to visit Mum today.’

‘She’d be pleased,’ Dad said. ‘What brought that on?’

‘Curiosity.’

‘Ah. And?’

‘All good. Straightened out a few things in my head.’ I was aware Felix was staring at me, and that Erica was trying to look like she didn’t want to know the full story.

It was obvious I didn’t have to spell out to Dad what those ‘few things’ might be. ‘If I’d let her take you, you’d have had a mother and a father.’ The way he said it made me wonder if that was a question he’d always had lurking at the back of his mind too.

‘Shit, Dad. I’d have died of boredom. There’s not a lot of excitement in caterpillars and cabbages.’

He relaxed, gave me a grin. End of conversation. Fine by me.

SCHOOL STARTED AGAIN
, but my attention was on club day at the end of the first week, followed by the fourth Challenge meeting a week later. This one would be at the Bay of Plenty track. Erica told Felix he could go to both events, but she turned down Dad’s invitation to come with us to club day.

I spent as much time as I could working on my kart to make sure it was in top condition. Felix helped. Pre-Erica, Dad would have done most of the job himself, but I told him to hang out with her, we could always give him a yell if we needed him. So, one night, they went out to dinner. That wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind.

They were home in time to do the bed routine with Felix, though, so I disappeared to put in some time catching up with my mates on Facebook. Well, well — what a surprise. Craig was shooting his mouth off again about Silver.

I hear Silver Adams got a warning from the stewards for dangerous driving. She needs to be banned. End of story.

I wrote:
Give it a rest, Craig! How’s the hunt for a new mechanic going?

Other drivers added their bits:
If you can’t stand the heat, stay off the track.

Handle the jandal.

He’s right tho. We don’t want dangerous drivers. Bad for everyone.

I left them to it and talked to Kyla. I told her about Mum.

‘Far out! Are you okay about it, Archie?’

‘Yeah. I am. I reckon she got herself into a life that didn’t fit her. It’d be like me trying to fit in with her life now.’ I shook my head. ‘That would be bad, believe me.’

CLUB DAY ARRIVED
full of wind and skittering rain. The gossip out at the track was about Craig. His father had got him a new mechanic but nobody seemed to know any more than that. Typical Craig to give out just enough info to make people curious and keep them guessing.

I put him out of my mind. My task was to drive as smoothly as I could and to practise my passing.

Dad wrote down the stats for each race and we made adjustments to try to get as much speed from the kart as we could. Felix shadowed Dad, taking in every scrap of info and running errands. He was turning out to have a brain too, and initiative. Like he disappeared
mid-morning
, then came back with tea and sandwiches for both of us.

‘Thanks, mate,’ Dad said. ‘But where did you get the money?’

‘I said you’d pay later. And I ate a muffin but I only had a drink of water.’

I had to laugh. Felix could have a lesson or two on booking things up in Dad’s name coming up fairly soon. The drink and the food were an excellent idea, though.

We finished the day with the kart as well set up as we could get it. Back home, Felix helped me with taking it apart and cleaning it. We spent the next three evenings going over it and checking everything. Dad put the hours in as well. It wasn’t much fun for Erica, but she didn’t say anything.

I skyped Kyla on Wednesday night — there wouldn’t be time the next day, because we were getting away straight after school. I told her how much I wished she could compete in the Challenge, but she just laughed at
me. ‘I’d have beaten you and you’d have to pretend you were proud of me.’

I didn’t bother arguing. Not when we both knew I’d have been gutted. Instead we talked about how the internet was full of rumours about who Craig’s new mechanic was. He’d be ecstatic.

At school the next day I got the word from three of my teachers that they would like some of my attention. Nina didn’t help. She passed me a note in English saying,
I’ve got an amped up, supercharged hex this time. Craig is toast.

Dad and Felix picked me up at the end of the day, but we made it to Dannevirke before I got the text from Craig:
Track looking good. My mechanics set up kart already.

I read it out.

‘He’s doing that … that … mess with your head thing again,’ Felix said.

‘Yep. That’s it, mate. Psychological warfare.’

‘I think he’s a mutant,’ said my step-brother.

Dad and I cracked up.

WE WERE STAYING
with Gran and Grandad in Tauranga, so there was no problem hitting the track early. They had the morning routine timed to perfection.

Craig had his base set up already — or rather, his mechanic had set it up. As soon as he saw us, he ambled over, getting in the way while we put up our tent and organised things.

Bugger him — he’d be waiting for me to ask about his mechanic. Let him wait.

Dad must have got sick of him, too, because he started
giving him jobs: ‘Craig, grab hold of the groundsheet, would you. Straighten it out. Good. Now can you take the end of the bench? We’ll move it back slightly.’

It worked. He melted away like butter on a barbie.

Felix, meantime, went out on an info-gathering mission. He was back in ten minutes. ‘Jack said the new mechanic is Gus from Australia. Sel says Gus got the sack from his last job. Tama says he’s an ace mechanic even if he did get fired.’

‘Good work, my man. You ever heard of the guy, Dad?’

He shook his head. ‘No, nothing. It’ll be interesting to see how the two of them get along.’

Badly, I hoped, but as the day went on it looked more and more like Craig and Gus were best mates.

‘Bugger,’ said Lewis. ‘Much better for us if they hate each other.’

‘Craig alert!’ Tama said. ‘The great man himself is coming to talk to us.’

We watched him stroll towards us, all casual and in control. ‘Hi, guys. Dad’s here. Anyone interested in taking a look at the Audi?’

Stupid question. We all went and we all drooled. No doubt about it — that was one classy piece of machinery. Mr Bateman did the decent thing, though, and showed us the engine and let each of us sit in the driver’s seat. A streak of pure envy shot through me. Sometimes, it’d be quite nice to have money to throw around.

Felix and I went back to our tent. ‘You have to beat him, Archie. He’s a big fat skite.’

‘I’ll do my best, mate. Promise you that.’

But when I got out on the track for practice, the kart wasn’t responding a hundred per cent. I couldn’t get
enough acceleration coming out of the corners. Had to laugh when I came back in, though — there were Dad and Grandad both standing with one hand on a hip and the other propping up the chin. And Felix was doing exactly the same.

‘Gripped up, is it?’ Dad asked.

‘Yeah. Real slow off the corners.’ I got out and we took the kart back to our tent.

‘What can we do?’ Felix asked. ‘Can we fix it? Is it the tyre pressures?’

‘No, won’t be that,’ Grandad said. ‘It’ll be something else to do with the set-up.’

‘Let’s try swapping the back axle,’ Dad said. We had a standard one on.

‘Hard or soft?’ Grandad asked.

We decided to give the hard one a try first. It was better. Much faster coming out of the corners and the kart no longer felt like it was sticking to the track. It wasn’t perfect, though.

All through the day we kept tweaking things, making small adjustments, but still it wasn’t a hundred per cent. By the time practice ended, I was a full half second under the track record.

Craig was strutting around, wearing his
I’m gonna be on pole
expression. The trouble was, he was probably right.

Grandad watched him. ‘Cock of the dung heap, that one. Don’t worry, Archie. We’ll have a think about your set-up overnight. See if we can get it perfect.’