Speed Freak (5 page)

AS ALWAYS AFTER
a race weekend, I talked to Grandad before I skyped any of my karting buddies. His weathered face filled my screen. My grandmother leaned over his shoulder.

‘How are you, Archie? Good? And that son of ours?’

‘Bouncing off the ceiling,’ I said. ‘Has he told you about Erica?’

They looked at each other, then Grandad said, ‘No. But I think we’d rather like to hear about Erica.’

I filled them in, but when Gran tried asking for more details, Grandad shooed her away. ‘I’ve got business to discuss with Archie. Give Bill a call and grill him yourself.’

She waved at me and disappeared. ‘Right,’ said Grandad. ‘Talk me through the day.’

I went over each race, talking tactics and engine
setup
. We reviewed the analysis chart we’d done after each race. ‘Good. Good,’ he said every few minutes. ‘And Archie, don’t bother bringing food when you come up to Hamilton. Your gran’s got it all under control.’

I sat up straighter. ‘You’ll be there? Cool!’

‘We’re coming to the whole series, except Manawatu. Got a bloody wedding to go to,’ he said. ‘But we’ll be there for the rest. Have to keep your dad on his toes.’

Yes! I was the third generation of karters in our family, and if the grandparents hadn’t taken themselves off to live in Tauranga, Grandad would have made a point of coming to more of my races. He’d taught Dad, the same as Dad was teaching me. I was lucky, I knew that, but on the downside I’d always thought it was me getting into karting that killed Mum and Dad’s marriage.

When I’d asked Mum about it, she said, ‘It wasn’t that, Archie. In the end, we were just too different.’ But she’d left when I was six — the year I started karting. Even now, the thought still lurked at the back of my mind that I should have said I didn’t want to race.

Erica would probably get fed up too, and walk out. Poor old Dad. The race programme wouldn’t be so intense next year but, even so, I didn’t want to think about that — about not racing all over the country, or about Dad getting pulled between me and Erica.

I rang Mum next. She asked me about school and I asked her about their organic market garden. Then she surprised me.

‘Good luck on the track this year, Archie. Please … be careful.’

‘Sure, Mum. Course I will. Don’t worry.’

But she would worry, and I wouldn’t be careful — not in the way she meant, anyway. I was pleased she’d said it, though. She never mentioned my driving if she could help it.

Kyla was my last call. She was on the computer and waiting, a sticking plaster round her left thumb. ‘Before you ask,’ she said, ‘this is the result of an argument with a barbed-wire fence.’

‘Ouch. Does it mess up your grip?’

‘Not much. Today was a write-off anyway, thanks to
Silver Adams. Honestly, Archie, she’s big trouble. A real menace. The stewards had a go at her but it only calmed her down for a couple of races.’

‘But she used to be good.’ I had a clear memory of a girl with long dark hair, a big laugh and a feel for the kart.

Kyla shook her head. ‘She’s all thump and bust now. She drives like she wants to clear the track.’

‘She’ll get herself banned if she’s not careful.’

‘I don’t think they’ll ban her. The stewards were pretty lenient with her. People weren’t happy about it. But I think there must be a reason. She’s changed. She didn’t talk to any of us.’

‘Well, if you find out anything, let me know. She’ll be at Manawatu next weekend, and I could do without having to deal with a crazy driver.’

We talked then about the Nationals coming up at Easter. We’d both be competing, Kyla driving up from Wyndham with her family, and Dad and me taking the ferry to Picton and driving from there.

I took a deep breath. ‘We both get there on Thursday, so let’s go out that night. Just you and me.’

Her smile beamed from the screen. ‘That is a perfect idea.’

DAD LEFT HIS
workers to lock up on Wednesday, picked me up from school and drove me to my sponsors to collect the sets of tyres.

Dad shook hands with Brendon and had a man-
to-man
chat with him. Then Brendon looked at me. ‘Craig did well on Sunday.’

‘Yes. He’s a good driver,’ I said. ‘Beating him wasn’t my aim, though.’

‘We expect you to
race
for us, Archie.’

‘I’ve shaved my times on every corner, thanks to Sunday.’ I didn’t say anything else, just left it there for him to think about.

It took him two seconds. ‘I hear you. Good man.’

They loaded the tyres into the van, handshakes all round, and we were off. Dad was chuckling away to himself. ‘I’ve never seen light dawn on a man’s face like it did with him. Well done, Archie.’ Then, without a pause, he said, ‘Have you got that game plan worked out yet?’

‘Yeah. It’s simple — I take each race as it comes. Race my guts out. Never forget how much I love the speed and the excitement.’

‘That’ll do it,’ said my father. ‘And by the way, we’re both having dinner at Erica’s tonight.’

‘I’ll take my homework with me. That way I won’t have to watch the love birds.’ And I wouldn’t get stuck with Felix either.

We went, we ate, we enjoyed. Felix didn’t utter a word. I finished a science assignment, zapped through the maths and we went home at 9.30.

‘Erica worries about Felix,’ Dad said.

‘And you’ve told her karting would bring him out of his shell?’

He gave me a look. ‘I’m not that stupid. She’s about as keen on it as Gracie is.’ Gracie being my mother.

‘It would though,’ I said.

‘I know. But there it is. Don’t suggest it, Archie. I don’t want to scare her off.’

I patted his knee. ‘Don’t worry, old man. I’ll be a good boy.’

He clipped my ear for me and I laughed. I was getting used to the Erica/Felix idea. Sure, life would change but some of the changes were looking as though they’d be positive. I hadn’t been so deep in my homework that I hadn’t heard Erica telling Dad that, if he didn’t mind, she’d like to cook at least three nights a week. I could cope with that.

I TURNED UP
at school on Thursday with my mind on the next three days.

‘Earth to Archie,’ Ginnie said, waving her hand in front of my face.

‘We’re coming to watch you on Sunday,’ Colin said.

‘All of you?’

‘They’ve bullied us into it,’ Nina said.

‘What time do we need to be there?’ Colin asked.

‘Seven thirty,’ I said.

He was surprised. ‘Night racing? Hell. I don’t think Mum’ll be up for that.’

‘Seven thirty in the morning.’

The others spluttered with laughter but shook their heads. ‘No way. We’d have to leave here about five.’

‘Five in the morning is not a time that exists as far as I’m concerned,’ Ginnie said.

‘My heat is 10.30.’ I ducked out of the way of Colin’s fist.

Ginnie was still looking unhappy. ‘Jeez, that means we’ll have to leave here about 8.30.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The things I do in the name of friendship.’

‘You could just come for the pre-final and the final, if
you want,’ I told them. ‘They’re in the afternoon.’

‘Let me get my head around this,’ Silas said. ‘You have one heat, then the pre-final and then the final?’

‘You got it. We do the practising tomorrow. Saturday is the qualifying rounds. Fastest time gets pole position for the two heats. They run the first heat on Saturday.’ Just talking about it sent the shivers of excitement through me.

‘And you want pole,’ Nina said. The girls looked at each other. ‘ That’s three races. Those karts stink and they’re hell loud. I say we arrive in time for the final.’

‘Girls!’ said Colin. ‘Wear earplugs. We’ll go all day.’

I let them squabble. I wouldn’t have time to hang out with them, but it’d be great to have them there, cheering for me.

‘Archie, what do you think?’ Nina asked. ‘Seen one, seen them all? Just watching the final — that’ll be all right, won’t it?’

‘Yeah. It’s just like rugby. Seen one test match, seen them all.’ She was the hugest rugby fan.

She bunted me with her shoulder. ‘It so is not!’

‘You don’t know,’ Colin said. ‘You’ve never watched a race. How about we go for the afternoon? Mum’s driving, and she won’t be keen on staying the whole day anyway.’

‘But then we’ll only be able to watch the final,’ Silas said. ‘What’s the point?’

‘There’s the pre-final too,’ I said. ‘It’s worth winning that, because then you get pole position on the grid for the final.’

‘Do you want us to come?’ Nina asked. ‘Will it make any difference?’

It wouldn’t make any difference — I wouldn’t be able
to hear them cheering and I’d be too busy driving to look at them. ‘It’d be cool to have you there. Yeah, I’d like to have a fan zone.’ Craig’s mates often came to cheer him when we raced in Auckland. He didn’t seem to have girl friends — it was always just guys who turned up.

‘I say we go for the afternoon,’ James said. ‘We watch the pre-final and the final. Okay?’

And so it was decided.

‘Cool,’ I said. ‘Thanks, guys.’

At home that evening I checked the entry list.
Twenty-six
in my class. That was good, although we probably wouldn’t finish the year with that many. I scanned the names. No surprises until I got to Sel. Couldn’t believe it — he must’ve won Lotto.

I texted him:
U entering the challenge? No bullshit?

C u tomorrow. Thanx 2 my sponsor.

Who?

Gran.

I laughed and texted back:
Cool

Time for bed. I was almost asleep when a text arrived from Kyla:
Drunk driver killed silvers mum xmas eve.

I stared at it. That was only a couple of months ago. I texted back:
That wld explain it. Jeez.

ON FRIDAY MORNING
Silver’s dad set up their base three away from ours. Silver came out of the tent and stood looking over the track.

Dad said, ‘Go and tell her you’re sorry about her mother.’

‘I’m not doing that! She probably doesn’t even remember me.’

He put down the spanner and gave me one of his looks.

‘What?’

‘Two things. First, it’s the decent thing to do …’

‘You do it then.’

‘And second, if you don’t, it’s going to be the elephant in the room all year. The thing nobody talks about. And soon it’ll turn into the thing nobody
can
talk about.’ He gave me a nod and went back to what he’d been doing. Bloody hell, I hated that — he’d tell me something I didn’t want to hear, then leave me alone to come around to his way of thinking.

There’d been a few times at school … Girls had it easy — they just went straight into the hug, let loose some tears and then we could all talk.

‘Craig’s going over to her now,’ I said, and shot out of the tent. He’d say something, and I could just nod and
look sorry. But he stopped a metre short and didn’t even glance at her.

Shit. I was there now, stuck between her and Craig. ‘Uh, hi, Silver. Listen, I heard about your mum. I’m really sorry.’

She turned, flicked her eyes over me and slouched off.

Thanks, Dad.

‘The word is we need to watch out for her on the track,’ Craig said.

‘Did you hear what happened to her mother?’

‘Yes, I heard. So what? That’s her private life. It’s got nothing to do with racing.’

Correct, but hard. I went back to Dad, who asked, ‘How did it go?’

‘Let’s just say I won’t be mentioning her mum again any time soon.’

‘You did the right thing, son.’ He gave me a shoulder squeeze.

I put Silver out of my mind. It was scrutineering time.

We wheeled the kart down to the tech shed and joined the queue behind Tama. There were seven in front of him.

Our turn. The official checked my race gear and all the paperwork. Next came the drivers’ briefing, and I don’t reckon I imagined it but the stewards seemed to be stressing the good-driving message. A couple of guys looked at Silver. I was behind her and slightly to the side, but as far as I could tell she ignored them and the official doing the briefing.

The rest of the day had its usual dramas. My kart threw a chain. Jack spent more time on the grass than on the black stuff. Ollie missed most of the morning’s
practice because his engine wouldn’t start. By the time we were ready to pack up, though, I was feeling ready for tomorrow’s qualifiers and the heat.

Back at the motel, we went to bed early. The next two days would be big.

I WOKE IN
the morning to a day of clear sunshine. It was going to get hot. We drove to the track behind Craig and his new mechanic. I wondered if Craig had been watching for us, just to make sure he led the way. He’d be hoping to score a psychological point.

He made sure he was first, too, when we lined up for our initial qualifier. It was all part of his game plan — be first even when it didn’t matter. In the qualifiers all that mattered was keeping clear of everyone else so you could clock up the fastest lap time. I guessed he was trying to make us all believe he deserved to be out in front and therefore we wouldn’t go all out to beat him. Like that was going to work.

He’d be missing out on pole this time, though. Josh and his dad were already halfway there.

Craig positioned his kart on two, grinned at Josh and said something I didn’t catch, but it made Josh laugh.

Silver put her kart on three. Dad said, ‘You want four? It’d keep you out of her way.’

‘Nah. Ten’s about where I’d like to be.’ I figured it was better to work out how to beat Silver Adams now when it didn’t matter so much. Besides, I wasn’t going to let her scare me into playing it safe.

When we were all positioned, there were twenty-six
karts on the grid. Most of us were competing in the Challenge and every single one of us was desperate to win the prize of racing in Europe at the end of the year. Except maybe Silver.

Realistically, there were five of us with a chance: Craig, Ollie, Lewis, Josh and me. Sel might, but he was an outside chance.

I pulled on my helmet, slipped into my kart and settled myself to wait out the long minutes before the starter released us from the dummy grid out on to the track. I didn’t mind the wait. None of us did. It meant we could still our minds, focus on the race ahead, run the track through the mental video, and all the time we were shut off, secure in our own worlds.

The starter gave the signal. His hand dropped and we were off, each of us doing our own thing. I turned the steering wheel sharply a few times in a zigzag to scuff in my new tyres. I planned on taking it easy for the first two laps until my tyres warmed up, but even so I slipped past Julian Chub when his kart took seconds to build up power again after braking.

I stayed tucked in behind Sel but let the space between us lengthen. Up ahead, Angus love-tapped the back of Silver’s kart, letting her know he was there, that he wanted to pass. She altered her line to block him. Not strictly illegal.

I checked the engine temp on the data logger. It was running a touch hot. Not surprising. The day was going to be a scorcher. I flipped up the radiator cover. The kart felt good.

I drove without thinking about it, watching ahead, keeping out of trouble and checking the timing each time I completed a lap. I was still a whole second
slower than my best lap from club day.

Up ahead, Sel was closing in on 47 — Silver’s kart. She aimed at the corner, Sel on her tail. Braked too late and spun off on to the paddock. Sel got sucked into the spin and followed her.

I kept my eyes on the track ahead and avoided the carnage.

Lap five and I had clear track ahead of me. I checked the data logger. Craig would waltz on to pole if I couldn’t do better than I’d managed so far.

With Josh, Ollie and Craig well out of the way ahead of me, I settled in for some serious driving. It was time to push, to drive to the limit. Fastest lap time and pole position. That was what I was after.

Smoothness, speed and judgement. Every brain cell firing. Every nerve alert.

The chequered flag, and impossible to tell who’d clocked the fastest time. I was happy, though. Everything felt good. The kart was responsive and the engine singing. I checked the data logger, then switched it off. A clear half second faster than my best lap the weekend before.

Back in the pits, Craig asked, ‘What’s your time?’

I pulled a face. ‘Not enough.’ I gave him the time, but I added a second. I didn’t ask him what his was. No point. He wouldn’t tell me the truth either.

‘What d’you think?’ Dad asked as he helped me lift the kart on to the trolley. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Spot on,’ I said. ‘We don’t need to change a thing.’

Back in the tent, he said, ‘Archie, you’re going to have to watch out for Silver. She’s clever. She’s not blatant enough for the stewards to haul her up, but she’s blocking and barging and keeping just inside the rule book.’

‘She hasn’t driven for a couple of years. I should be able to get past her.’ Easy enough to get behind her at the hairpin and duck through. ‘Did you talk to her old man?’

Dad looked offended. ‘Of course I did. We had quite a chat. He said Silver’s taken it hard. That’s why he bought her the kart — to give her something positive to do.’

‘Does he call making a nuisance of herself positive?’

‘Yes, Archie, he does. He knows what she’s doing and he’s talked to her about it. But he isn’t going to try to stop her. He’s just grateful she’s racing.’

She wouldn’t be as fast as I was, so she’d be behind me on the grid. I wasn’t bothered about Silver Adams.

‘Grid positions are up.’ Craig stuck his head into our tent. ‘You interested in checking them out?’

We collected Josh, Ollie, Lewis and Sel on the way. Silver stood outside her base, staring at the ground. I could practically hear Dad’s voice in my head:
Do the
decent thing, Archie.
So I said, ‘You coming, Silver?’

She didn’t move, and she kept her mouth shut.

‘Forget her,’ Craig said, loud enough for her to hear.

Josh ran ahead, desperate to find his position. ‘I’m on five! Yes!’

Craig walked faster. I let him go. I’d find out soon enough. He took a quick scan of the board, then threw up his arms. ‘There’s been a mistake! Archie’s on pole! Noooo!’

But despite the clowning, he was right pissed off. He shook his head, looking disgusted now. ‘One lousy tenth of a bleeding second. But I will get my revenge, my friend. Those last three sets of slicks are mine for the taking.’

Interesting. I’d forgotten about the tyres.

There’s nothing like pushing your kart on to pole position. The heat started, and I banished Craig from my mind. He was right behind me, but it was my race now. I flew into each corner, not thinking about the driving — just doing it. The laps counted down. The field spread out behind me. Lap six the engine was running hot. I flipped open the radiator cover to get some air through. My lap times were good. Craig was right there, always behind me, always looking to overtake.
I’ll show you, you prick!

Big mistake. I flew into the right-hander on the second to last lap, left the braking a fraction too late and ended up on the grass. This time I didn’t waste time beating myself up. Not yet. It was back on the track, go like shit, make up lost time.

I finished eighth. Could have been worse. Should have been a hell of a lot better.

‘How did that happen?’ Dad asked when we were back at our base.

‘Thinking about beating Craig. Took my mind off my own race.’ I was totally disgusted with myself.

Dad just shook his head. ‘Lucky for you Grandad isn’t here.’

Yeah. He tended to go ballistic. Maybe that was why Dad did the opposite and left it to me work out how stupid I’d been. ‘I won’t bloody do it again.’

Lucky for me, my little picnic on the grass wouldn’t affect my grid position for the second heat. We kept the same positions for both heats.

Dad didn’t mention it again but he didn’t have to. I went over and over my mistake all the way back to the motel. Before we got out of the van, he said, ‘Keep your
mind on the next heat. Learn from that mistake and make bloody sure you don’t get caught like that again.’

I wasn’t looking forward to my de-brief with Grandad, though. In the end, I put the phone down on the table, picking it up again only once he’d run out of steam. He finished by saying, ‘Keep your mind on the job, Archie. Get a good sleep tonight.’

Dad gave me a grin. ‘I guess you got the message?’

‘Loud and clear.’

I went to bed, focusing my thoughts on the day ahead.