Shot to Sanity
It was him I was sure of it. A different face, a different way of dealing with the world but it was him. It took me awhile to figure it out. At first I took him at his word. Rex was dead. Than I got to thinking. The more I saw him, the more I raced him. The lies fell away. Words are words but action doesn't lie. I know how Rex raced I watched him enough times. Under the edgy aggressive way of driving X had developed over the last six years I could still see my brother's patient curves. At first I was mad. Mad at him for leaving for lying for not being there. And than I realized he hadn't lied. Rex Racer was dead what was left was Racer X but under that, under the new face and fierce skill there was my big brother. The guy who would strap me in and take me for a ride on an empty race track. The guy who taught me how to listen to the car. I never got to race really race with Rex but racing with X was almost what I think it would have been. I know it's kind of stupid separating them into two people but they are two different people and still both my big brother.
I think Rex became Racer X even before we buried him. By killing off Rex he did our father and mother a favor. Rex's death put something in them at ease. Giving them room to grieve and move on. Gave me time to grieve, to learn how to grow up with out him. There is a part of me that's still mad at him for leaving. For every thinking there was something bigger more important than being there for me. That's the selfish part of me I try to ignore. I get it now more than ever why he left. I stand in front my locker looking at a worn old picture of the two of use. I'm a kid barely 9. I don't remember the picture being taken. But remember that day. Rex is carrying me hung over his shoulder. I have an arm around his neck. He's laughing. I wish I could remember what he was laughing at, was it something I said, was it someone else. I wish I could remember who took the picture. It showed up in my locker 2 days ago. I know who put it there. It helps to know he had it all this time.
He said I would find the reason why I raced and I did. I found it on the last lap around the track as I chased the white light. I raced because it's in my blood. It's all I know. It's my sanity. I race because before I could walk Rex strapped me in and took me for rides around the block. Because I was built for this, the track, the feel of the wheel under my hand, the purr of the engine, the sound of the starting shot, the drop of the checkered flag. Because there is nothing as pure, as right, as being behind the wheel. Because he's the one who showed me the way. Because racing brings me as close to him as I can possible get. It's the nearest I get to perfect, crossing the finish line.
I know that more than anything else he did it for me. Tried to change the world of racing. Quite a feat for one man but he would have done it if he could, would still do it for me. So I could do this, sit down behind a wheel flex my hands on the wheel feel the pull of the engine and wait for the shot to sanity.