25~

1958

As Grace got older, she seemed to have grown more-or-less silent on the factor of maybe wanting a sibling, but there was something else that she didn't lose: her interest in racecars and the world in which they were king. Cornelia saw herself in so many ways within her daughter. Hudson was forced too often to think of his past. The girl eagerly devoured whatever material she could get her grasp on regarding this competitive sport. Hudson felt it was only a matter of time until she learned of the name he once wore. As chance had it, she did, but it was during a weekday while he was at work.

"Mama, this magazine says that from 1951 to 1953 there was a famous racer called the Fabulous Hudson Hornet."

Cornelia knew too that this day would come, but found she wasn't prepared. She stiffened but tried to say conversationally, "Oh really, Grace?"

The younger Cadillac pored over the magazine she had been able to acquire in a heap of rubbish she'd found behind the V8 Café. "Mmmhmm. He won three Piston Cup trophies! That's amazing! It says here that he was the most successful car in the circuit and was able to even able to beat the rookies. It says 'The Fabulous Hudson Hornet had skills that these new kids only hoped to have. He had excellent training and the most famous maneuver he had in his set of skills was drifting, which enabled him to execute turns that made other cars lag behind. His ability to do this would send him far ahead of his fellow racers and therefore closer to the finish line.' What an amazing car, Mama. I wonder if he still races."

"Maybe the story will say, honey." Cornelia said, trying to keep a sad note out of her voice.

Grace thoroughly read the article with enraptured eyes until she got to what Cornelia knew she would. "Oh no… no… that's horrible… It says here Mama that in 1954 the Fabulous Hudson Hornet was competing in what would be his 4th race for the Piston Cup when around the 35th lap he went into his drift and something mechanically went amiss with his engine. His tires lost traction on the dirt track and there was nothing he could do to stop. It says, 'This tragic mishap caused him to crash end over end more than 4 times before coming to a stop. This accident caused him to be out for the racing reason."

Cornelia didn't know what else to say, so let silence suffice.

Gracie went to the end of the article and then continued, "It says here that he never raced again after the circuit rejected him. He spent a year or so in town with his wife until disappearing at some unknown point to an unknown town." The girl looked up, and when she met her mother's eyes added, "What a sad story, Mama."

"It is sad, honey. It is." Cornelia said, unable to hide the tone in her voice this time.

Grace looked at the article again and then to the black-and-white photo of #51 in his untroubled years. "He looks like Daddy." she murmured. "If Daddy had been a racecar instead of a doctor."

The older Cadillac simply nodded.

Hudson was also faced with his daughter's new knowledge of a car she knew as only the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. He dealt with it the best way he could and shuttered any recognition from his features when replying to her chatter about this. He remained neutral at best and within those silent moments at night, rehashed everything over a thousand times. Those moments were some of the worst. He knew the hope of keeping his past buried wouldn't work now, for night after night it assaulted him and sometimes in the early hours when he'd close his eyes, he relived his crash again.

"Daddy, they told him when he was done. He didn't choose. That seems so wrong and just… so unfair." Grace lamented to him on one weekend in May.

Hudson offered her a shallow nod. "Unfortunately, life isn't fair a lot of times, Grace. A lot of bad things happen to good folks."

"It's sad… he was such a brilliant car; he really was fabulous, just like his racing name said. That one story I read said that after he was rejected he eventually moved at some point to an unknown town. Where do you think he went?" the girl asked her father.

Hudson looked within his daughter's soft-blue and wondering eyes. "I haven't any idea, honey. When someone wants to find a place to lose themselves, often times they just never want to be found again."

The girl pondered. "I guess that makes sense, Daddy. Why would someone want to be a part of the world that just gave up on them?"

"Exactly so." he replied.

"You know what, Daddy?" she began.

"What's that?"

"There are a lot of racecars who have had success and are still having success. I can admire them, but they don't really have the same sort of story to them. They don't have some sad and unknown mystery to them. I've decided that although I still like a lot of the others, the Fabulous Hudson Hornet is going to be my only true favorite. Even if he never raced again after his crash, he still had a lot of might. He came back after that accident, which took a lot of courage, even though he was turned away. I don't think a lot of others would have that bravery. Wherever he found a place to lose himself, I also hope he found his way."

Hudson leaned over to give his daughter a long and loving nuzzle and replied, "Something tells me that he did."

. . . .

On that following Sunday, Grace expressed interest in visiting with Flo for a spell and now that she was growing up and was a lot smarter about watching for others and was more versed on her driving etiquette, Cornelia let her take the short trip on her own. She and Hudson watched her till they were certain she had made a safe entry into the Café lot before turning to each other.

"She knows," was all Hudson said to his wife.

Cornelia nodded her hood. "Some car she knows only as the Fabulous Hudson Hornet has captured her heart. Her passion reminds me so much of myself."

"She's a lot like you, darling." he answered.

"I wish so much that she knew this amazing car wasn't a stranger but is her own father. She would be so amazed."

"And her passion would be ruined." he finished.

"Ruined? But… how can you say that?" she asked him, confused.

He sighed, his eyes following the activity of the V8 until turning back to his wife. "Yes, ruined. Ruined because if she knew who I was, she would be too concerned about me. Her interests would drop when she realized this favorite car of hers isn't some distant stranger."

"But… why is it horrible she'd be concerned about you? Why is it horrible for her to find her favorite car in the circuit is actually no stranger but in fact her father? Why is that a bad thing, Hudson?" she pressed.

A long pause fell and Cornelia was helpless to wonder what he was thinking. Finally he sighed and said, "It's a bad thing because it would take her mind off of the joy she's experiencing now. I want her to enjoy her interest without it being overshadowed by my own bad side of it."

"Telling your daughter about you won't ruin her interest. She'll likely love you all the more for it. She already thinks you're the most incredible thing on 4 wheels as it is. I'm not going to deny that what happened to you was traumatic, but you aren't helping anyone by trying to deny it and acting like it didn't happen. You don't know how much I want to look her in her eyes and tell her that this car she's set her sights on is her father. You don't know how much I want to tell her about my own love for the sport and how from the first time I saw you, the love I had for you became greater than the sport. I want to tell her about the first time I had the chance to say hello to you and what happiness that brought me for days afterward… no, weeks! You don't know how much I want to tell her about those wonderful evenings we'd spend in that park in Thomasville watching the sunset as the colors painted our chrome work, enhancing the beauty a hundredfold. I want to tell her about how my heart burst with happiness when you asked me to marry you and made my young girl-dream of becoming Mrs. Cornelia Hornet come true!" she bewailed. This time the tears that fell from her eyes and slipped down her hood didn't shock her.

"I want to tell her about how for me the crash of 1954 wasn't something I only knew about third person from a newspaper story. I want to tell her about how I sat there at the edge of the raceway and watched you go in for that drift and I saw what happened to make your engine catch and I saw you go end over end in that crash only to come to a broken and battered heap in the middle of the track. I want to tell her how I feared our marriage had ended before it began and at that moment I prayed to whoever would listen for them to please not take my beloved husband from me now. I want to tell her how I visited you in those days you endured repairs and how you managed to still look so stately but in such a sad way with your dents and scrapes and crumpled hood and crumpled grille and worst of all your broken front axle which gave you such a heartbreaking carriage."

She blinked again, her vision all blurred and bedimmed by tears. In a softer voice she continued, "I want to tell her how possible true love is that she should never give up in her life, because I've found a love like that that runs so deep and unconditional and at sometimes it's so endless that it can hurt but I would never trade it for anything."

Her companion gave her a gentle nudge that she responded to immediately by crumpling into his polished blue side. A loosed tear from her eyes slid sideways across her hood where it eventually met Hudson's side. From there it obeyed the laws of gravity and slowly traced its way down the long steel curvature of his body. Movement ceased when its track was interrupted by the chrome rocket which read across it in smart red block letters HORNET.

"All I want to do, Hudson," Cornelia said in a soft tone. "Is tell Grace about how her favorite racecar isn't a stranger… he's her father."