Chapter 26 - "Anything Like Me"
"Daddy!" a little voice echoed, "Where are yooou?"
"Son?"
The father looked around the foggy landscape ahead of him. The clouds surround the entire world, minus the ground, which was an infinite road.
"Slow down, Champ! I can't keep up with you."
"Woooo! Woooooo!"
The older car drove through a puff of smoke, "There you are! Did you win?"
"I winned! I winned!"
"I'm so proud of you."
"I did like you! I winned!"
"No, Murphy, not 'winned'. You won."
"Won? Won….two, three, four- oh!" baby Murphy kicked his front wheels happily, "Agaaain!"
"Already?"
"Ka-Chicka! Goooo!" Murphy revved his little engine, which sounded like a small fan, and sped off into the unknown.
"Wait!" Chick accelerated, kicking up some of the fog with his rear tires, "You have to wait for me or I'm gonna lose you!"
He tried to follow his son's taillights, but after a short while they disappeared into the mist.
Even though only a couple of days passed, the temperature grew colder in the desert nights. Condensation spotted the cold glass windowpanes, fighting against the warmth inside of Chick Hicks' home.
"I'm gonna lose you….I'm...gonna..lose..-...mm?"
The sleepy race car opened his eyes to slits and glanced at his clock with large red digits.
2 : 3 7 A M
His mirrors twitched, listening in on the sound of silence in his home. He hoped he would hear some kind of noise tell him that he wasn't alone. He pushed himself off the bed and rolled out of his bedroom. He took a turn down the hall and gazed upon Murphy's door, taking in a deep breath, and bringing himself to knocking. After a couple of knocks, he pulled his lips in, waiting for an answer that never came. Instead, the echoes of the past came rolling in again. This time, they weren't in his dreams.
"Dad! I'm in here!"
Chick opened his room door, but he could still hear himself answer his son.
"Hey, Champ!"
"Missed you!"
"Not as much as I missed the best little part of my pit crew."
Murphy's giggling haunted Chick's mind, "Love you, crew chief!"
"And I love you too, junior."
Chick leaned inside and looked at Murphy's bed. The sheets were ruffled up at the end of the empty mattress.
Murphy's ghostly voice aged, "Gonna go knock out some practice laps, dad! I'll be back!"
"Hang on. I thought I told you to make your bed."
"Ugh, but who's gonna see it?"
"It doesn't matter. Go make your bed."
"Fiiine..."
Chick sighed and rolled on over to the side of his bed. He lifted an axle and pulled Murphy's blanket up. He then brought his other wheel up and smoothed out the comforter. Once finished, he turned his wheels and accidentally ran over an empty can of soda.
"Are you trying to attract little Volkswagen beetles?"
"I'll clean my room later. Get off my trunk."
"Not later. Do it now."
"I said I'll do it!"
"And I said you'll do it now."
Chick took the can and brought it over to the waste basket in the corner of his son's room.
Suddenly, Murphy's voice echoed in the present day, "Looking for something?"
Chick's body perked up, remembering those words from when he was looking through his drawer.
He whispered to the stale air with a suffocated voice, "...I'm looking for you."
Chick drove to Murphy's desk. He brushed away some of the scattered papers from school, uncovering all his racing books which were in pristine condition. One of the books, however, stood out more than the others. It was opened a lot more, evident in the deep creases of its spine. The title read Piston Cup 1980 and sticking out on top of it was a post-it note holding a page for Murphy.
Chick turned the book open to the marked page and the book opened to a wide, high definition photo of a much younger Chick Hicks that took over both pages. On the bottom corners of the photo were a mini biography and basic statistics of the race car.
Chick Hicks is currently one of the hardest working rookies in history to ever come into a racing season. A huge fan of The King, he strives to eventually own the champion's crown himself, but the Piston Cup has never been a trophy any of the racers would give up so easily. Even still, Chick Hicks pushes every bolt in his body to become a better version of himself with each new season. Next to his strenuous practice in the offseason, the racer's honesty and-
Chick brought his tire over the paragraph and shut his eyes. Although he understood Murphy's feelings, he didn't realize the depth until his words began to ring in his mind again:
"Are you trying to tell me this entire time I've made a complete fool out of myself in front of everyone?"
Those words from the night Murphy told him off began to crush themselves in his mind against the words of the day he won the three way battle between himself, The King, and Lightning McQueen.
"Come on, baby! Bring it out! Bring out the Piston Cup! Ka-Chicka! Ka-Chicka! Yeah-heh-hea! Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"I would have never found out how big of a fucking phony you were."
"How come the only one celebrating is me, huh!?"
"I'll never listen to you again."
"Where are the girls? Bring on the confetti!"
"Chick Hicks."
"Come on! Snaps some pictures! I gotta go sign my deal with Dinoco!"
"CHAMPION."
"KA-CHICKA! SAY IT WITH ME!"
He flinched as the sound of the crumbling Piston Cup shot his axle up and he flipped the book closed.
"I did like you, dad! I winned!"
Chick's eyes cracked open again. The thoughts wouldn't stop now.
"Daddy? Can I ask you a question? What does winning really feel like?"
"Ah, winning. I used to think I could never feel happier."
"And then what, Chief?"
"And then you came along, Champ."
The bottom of his windshield swelled with salty tears, but he had to explore more. There had to be more.
Chick pulled Murphy's private drawer open. His eyelids widened as fast as his lips parted, trying to see straight through his tears. He reached inside and pulled out a crumpled carton of Murphy's cigarettes.
"Whew! Murphy! That last one was incredible! You were going so fast your tires were smoking!"
"Really? They were? I didn't even notice!"
"Hahah, hey, it's either that or you were smoking a cigarette out there, trying to look even cooler than you already do."
"Ew come on, dad. Smoking is gross."
"I'm just twisting your bolts, boy, but now it's time to get you a new set of tires!"
"Alright!"
He tilted the carton and a few flakes of old tobacco sprinkled out, "Cigarettes...since when?"
Chick took more glances around the room, taking in the mess around him as clues to his missing son. It was then, he realized, that Murphy hadn't been missing for just forty-eight hours.
"You've been missing right next to me this whole time, huh?"
He listened closer to the empty room.
"Alright, dad! What's next?"
"Not today. I have to go out and do some laps myself."
"But.."
"There's a TV dinner in the fridge. You know how to heat it up, right?"
There was a silence in between the scenes playing out.
"Heeeeey, Chief! Ready to lose?"
"Murphy, you know how hard I've been working this season. Go out and run your own laps this time."
"Dad?"
"Nope, not today, Murphy."
"Morning', dad!"
"I just woke up. Maybe later."
"Dad, you think we could-"
"I just taught you that last week."
"Chief! Do you wanna see me do my victory donut!?"
"Only when you win a Piston Cup."
The carton fell out of Chick's wheel as he reversed into Murphy's bed. His breathing increased, "Oh no..," and his eyes floated to a picture of Murphy and himself hanging by his bedroom door.
The young race car was missing one of his front teeth and he had a very distinct glimmer in his eye. The more Chick stared, the more the photo came alive. It began to move, Murphy's smile fading into a more serious expression, looking up at his father.
"I want you to learn from me, Champ. You're gonna be the best - just like me. You have it in you because of me. Whenever anyone tells you something that makes you feel like you can't do something? You knock them right out of your life. Knock them away. Win, son, like the champion you are."
"Yes, daddy."
"Let me hear you say it."
"Anything that makes me feel bad."
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"Knock it out!" Murphy swung his little axles in a punching motion, "Ka-Chicka!"
"And what do you do when you see your enemy?"
Chick looked back to the vintage book which was marked on his page. He pulled away from Murphy's bed and flipped the book back open to his portrait.
"Knock 'em out!"
Chick clenched his teeth and pressed his wheel into the old book.
"Rip him away!"
He rolled his tire forward and back, violently ripping his own page out.
"Because you're a winner, Murphy. You're a champion. And you're living proof that I am too."
Chick threw the balled up paper to the floor and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Murphy's phone number and waited for him to pick up.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
"Yo, it's Murphy."
"Champ? Listen, I'm so sor-"
"Leave a message after the beep. Or don't. I really don't give a sh-"
beeeeeeep
Welcome to Nevada
The Silver State
The state's welcome sign rattled in the aftershock of Murphy's body shooting past it - dangerously over the speed limit.
"Will you see me soon?"
Both Gianna and Jane's voices lingered like a malfunctioning car alarm.
He pressed deeper on his accelerator, going faster. The sooner he went back to Carburetor County, the sooner he needed to face his father again. The sooner he needed to sit in detention when winter break was over. The sooner he needed to deal with the racing coach on his bumper. The sooner he needed to be reminded of the smooth tenderness of Gianna's curves. The sooner he needed to be reminded of another selfless and 'kinder than she should be' race car.
The wind whipped at his face as he bowed forward against it, pushing even deeper on his pedal. The road ahead called his name. It begged him to continue. He shut his eyes, keeping his speed constant. His rpms rose and a shock wave of chills ran across his side skirts.
But just then, his body began to sputter. His speedometer pulled backward from his declining speed.
"You're kidding."
His body jumped into sputters again.
"Not now."
The long hours on the road have finally taken a toll on the young man's gas tank; especially at the speeds he preferred to travel.
Murphy took the next exit and coasted off the highway as his body rumbled toward a very tall lit up sign which read: Top Down Truckstop
And in even finer text underneath:
(all convertible waitresses)
"Oh, hello, ladies.."
He managed to keep himself rolling, but if he had to stop, then accelerating again would burn through most of the remaining gasoline in his tank.
He squinted at the truck stop coming closer, where a bunch of trucks were parked under a canopy laughing at each other's poor jokes under fluorescent lighting.
"Bingo."
Murphy pushed on his pedal again to pick up the last stretch of the road before the truck stop.
The violent push caused the rest of his gasoline to seep into his engine and suddenly stop. His exhaust pipes made a loud popping sound while his wheels rolled as far as they could before they came to a complete halt.
The trucks became silent when they heard the pop and looked over at the young car. Their eyes were wide and they stared until they couldn't help but burst into laughter again.
"We got another one!" called out one of the semi-trailer trucks.
Murphy punched the asphalt with his wheel, "Dammit."
Another truck snorted, "Boy, you need a push!?"
"Ah, take it easy on 'em, guys," said a hearty voiced Mack truck, "Little guy must be lost!"
The blue-eyed semi-trailer was painted a rich cherry red, but didn't have his trailer attached to him. He did, however, sport a baseball cap on his roof with the Rust-eze logo printed on it, "I'll get 'em!"
He pulled away from his can of oil.
Another truck spoke, "Careful, Mack, he might be one of those murders we got out here. You heard about that Mustang, right?"
"The one with the stupid name," chuckled the snorting truck.
"Naaaw, look at him!" Mack rolled right up to Murphy, "Out of gas?"
Murphy's eyes stuck themselves open and his mouth hung agape.
"What are you doing out here all alone? The sun is gonna go down soon."
"Look, man, I don't want any problems. I want gas and I wanna get out of here," Murphy looked away.
"You sound like someone I know," Mack rolled around him, "The car I haul around. Let me just-"
"Hey-HEY!" Murphy leaned to his left, "What are you doing!?"
"I'm giving you a push to one of the-"
"Watch my paint, man!" Murphy furrowed his eyelids, "You'll scratch it!"
"Scratch it?" Mack raised an eyelid.
The snorting truck from earlier spoke again, "Look! Boy is worried 'bout a lil' scratch and he's out here drivin' without headlights!"
The other trucks shook their cabs and snickered at Murphy. Mack gently pressed into Murphy's rear bumper and guided him to one of the stations. He stepped on a switch with his wheel and a gasoline pump connected to Murphy's tank.
"Gee, you were running on fumes," said Mack, "Don't worry about paying for the gas. It's on me."
A bear-like voice came from a few stations down, "So where you off to?" the truck continued to roll forward. He was a Freightliner Century dressed in royal blue paint, "How'd the truancy not getcha?"
"Los Angeles," Murphy's eyes climbed up the truck's body.
"L.A.?" asked Mack, "You're not going in the right direction, that's for sure."
"What?" Murphy's eyes widened, "West? I'm going west."
Mack chuckled, "L.A. isn't just west of anywhere you go. Are you coming from Arizona?"
"Yeah, one state away."
"If you were going the right way. You're actually going northwest on this highway," Mack smirked, "This must be your first trip alone."
"This ain't no trip. I'm leaving."
The Freightliner raised an eyelid, "Leaving what?" then blinked, glancing at the snorting truck, "Aw, hell...look at Gus."
Gus' chin fell to the asphalt and he began to snore.
"I'm not telling you. I don't even know who you are," Murphy protested.
"The name's Hammer," the Freightliner put out one of his wheels to the young car, "Hammer."
Murphy glared at his wheels, "Murphy."
He wasn't about to touch a stranger's wheel.
"Now, what on the manufacturer's given earth is a kid your age runnin' from? You don't have any real problems. You're not allowed to have any real problems."
"My father. He's a joke."
Hammer shifted his weight, "Excuse me?"
"I don't wanna live with him no more," Murphy's eyes drifted to sleeping Gus.
"Does he even know you're gone?"
"I don't care what he knows."
Mack frowned, "That means he probably does. And he's probably very worried."
"Wouldn't have lied to me if he ever worried."
Hammer popped open a bottle of beer with his rim, "Lied about what? The Easter Buggy?" he took a big sip. Condensation dripped down from the bottom of the bottle.
"He lied about his entire life for my entire life."
"Pffft," Hammer scoffed, "How many miles do you have on your entire life?"
"Sheesh," Mack shook his cab, "You must've left a while ago, then."
"Two days and he called like every hour the first day…," Murphy's mirrors sank, "...but the guy probably doesn't even miss me anymore. He stopped calling."
"Heh..sounds like you actually want him to call. You want his attention," Hammer put his beer down in front of him, "Don't ya?"
"Who? That man? I'm fine with never talking to him again."
Hammer narrowed his eyes, "That man is your father."
"Yeah?" Murphy pushed forward and got in Hammer's grille, "And I'm his son. He shouldn't have lied to me."
Mack cleared his throat, trying to bring down the tension, "Where in Arizona are you coming from?"
"None of your business."
"I can help you get to Los Angeles a lot easier," Mack said, "If you tell me where you're coming from, I can tell you the right way to go."
"Nope, Mack, he likes this. Murphy wants to get lost. He wants daaaddy's attention. He likes that he's lost."
"I never said I like that I'm-"
Hammer motioned to Murphy's headlights, "On top of those being covered and you running away from the man who gave you half of your ungrateful life," he brought a tire to Murphy's hood and gently pushed him out of his face, "Running away to California to get away from your already privileged life to live like a superstar. Classic, but life don't work out that way."
"You don't know me," Murphy snapped, "Don't keep running your mouth like you do."
"What are you gonna do? Hit me and ruin your cute little paint job? Go 'head, tough guy," Hammer pointed to the side of his bumper, "I was just running my mouth. Do something."
"Ugh, it's Carburetor County, okay?"
Mack's mirrors flicked, "Carburetor County? I'm from Carburetor County too! Well, now I am. My boss lives there."
"Then you can tell your friend here why you left too."
"Left? Oh, no, no, no. I didn't leave. I'm only out here to hang with these guys. Life for truckers ain't easy. You don't get to see your friends in one place too often. So, when we're within hours of each other, we pick a place to meet up and we meet up."
"Lovely. I'm happy for you," Murphy said with an even tone, "Then the least you can do is explain to Hamster why it sucks."
"Did he just call me 'Hamster'?"
"I like Carburetor County," Mack admitted, "You do know that California isn't exactly the California you see on television, right?"
"You don't have to tell 'em, Mack. This kid's attitude is what's gonna teach him that lesson."
"Hammer, quit it."
"Shut UP," Murphy puffed out his undercarriage.
"Look! Now he wants to fight!" Hammer waved his tire in front of Murphy, "Simmer down, Squeaky wheel."
"I don't have time for this," Murphy nudged the gasoline pump out of his tank and turned on his engine, "I'm getting back on the road."
"Not without headlights you're not," said Mack, "May I remind you, federal D.O.T. regulations state-"
"I made it through the other nights. I can make it through to California all night long."
"If you had headlights, you would have already made it to California by now. It doesn't take that long to get there," Hammer rolled his eyes, "Even with sleep, you would have been there by now."
Murphy exhaled an exaggerated groan and pulled out a cigarette.
"Ah..and the childhood star smokes too."
"And?" Murphy brought the cigarette to his lips and hugged it between them.
"A man as mature as yourself could probably put away a few beers too."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Murphy turned back to the trucks.
The snorting truck's eyes blinked open, waking up again, but he became much easier to see. Gus was a forest green color with a rusting grille. He chimed in, "You should order the youngster a beer!"
"He's too young to drink, Gus!" warned Mack.
"Psh, too young to drink?" Murphy scoffed, "It's just beer."
"That's the spirit!" Gus slid over one of the beers he hadn't cracked open yet, "Have this one."
Murphy took the bottle in his wheel, but Mack immediately snatched it away, "What are you doing?"
"The boy likes danger!" Gus leaned back and took another sip of his opened beer, "Leave him alone!"
Hammer chugged the rest of his bottle down, then wiped his lips with his wheel, "Yeah, you heard the kid. It's just beer."
Mack hesitated, "But..," then he put the bottle down in front of him, "I have no part in this, but what you're doing is wrong, Murphy."
Murphy took the beer back and used his other tire to try to pop the top off. He applied all the pressure he could, but it wouldn't budge.
"Mack, look at it this way," Hammer started, "Two things to learn here. One, you can't teach a kid who knows it all something new. Two, a teenager can't drink if he can't even open his beer," he motioned to Murphy.
"You gotta use those shiny rims of yours, boy," Gus instructed, "Like this!" he took the bottle from Murphy and angled his rim underneath the edge of the bottle cap, "One...two...three!" and he pulled his tire up, cinching the cap against his rim, and effortlessly snapping it off. He gave the bottle back to Murphy and smirked, "Enjooooy."
Murphy went to take the beer back, but Mack leaned in, "Just saying...if you take a sip, you're gonna end up like Gus."
Murphy took another look at Gus, whose eyes were already getting heavy and ready to pass out again. He slurred, "Where are these convertible waitresses? I wanna get a good look at those big ol' trunks!"
"Uh..," Murphy glanced back up to Mack, "Maybe you're right.."
"Kid might have some kind of sense after all," said Hammer.
"I'll stick to my tobacco."
"...and there goes the last of it."
Mack exhaled disappointment through his grille, "That's not good for you either."
"It helps, alright? I'm not stupid-"
"That's debatable," Hammer muttered.
"-but it helps. Might not help with my racing stamina, but it helps me," Murphy pulled out a zippo lighter and flicked it open. He brought the flame to the tip of his cigarette and lit it.
"Ah...racing," a smile formed on Mack's bumper.
"I don't have these flames painted on me for nothing."
"Then we have something in common!"
Murphy exhaled smoke, "You're not gonna stand there and tell me you're in some kind of semi-truck underground racing thing, are you?"
"What? No, nothing like that. I work with a race car."
Murphy couldn't see Mack's doors, which flaunted the number '95' on them.
"Where's your trailer then?"
"Like I said, I'm not out here for work, so I didn't bring it with me. I don't need all of that extra weight."
Murphy looked ahead of him, staring at the smoke travelling up from the end of the cigarette.
"Who's your favorite race car?" Mack leaned in, trying to cheer the young man up, "I bet you have a long list."
The end of Murphy's cigarette glowed brighter in the night as he took in even more smoke. His bottom lip trembled when he exhaled, "Earnhardt."
"Huh...wouldn't have thought he'd be your favorite. Would've thought...maybe Blaney. He's closer to your age," Mack tilted his cab and chuckled, "Hey, you know what? You might not want to hear this, but you look like Chick Hicks."
With a small gasp, Murphy inhaled his next pull of smoke incorrectly, and coughed a few times, "Ch-..Chick?"
"Yeah, don't you know him? Maybe he's too old for you to care," Mack motioned to his body with his tire, "Look at you! You practically have the same body, minus your side view mirrors and the fact that you actually have doors."
"...enough."
Mack slumped on his wheels, "Was it something I said? I only wanted to take your mind off whatever was bothering you...and...you didn't really retaliate when we started talking about racing. You shooed Hammer and I away with everything else."
"Huh?" Hammer glanced up from a magazine he started to read, "What about me?"
"Not you," Mack continued speaking to Murphy, "I get it. You're mad at something and home is probably the last place you want to be right now."
The moment Mack mentioned 'home', Murphy instinctively yawned. His jaw expanded and he leaned up to fully extend himself.
"But home is where you belong. And, gee..you must be tired. Where've you been sleeping?"
Murphy's eyelids barely lifted halfway up his windshield, "I haven't."
Hammer looked up from his magazine again, quietly listening to their conversation better, instead of just blowing him off as another kid with an attitude.
"I've taken a break every now and then, but it was only to eat and cool the heat on my tires."
"Even still, you have to sleep. You're driving condition is as good as Gus' right now."
Gus flinched in his sleep.
"I can handle it alright? A few more hours and I'll be in California."
"You gotta take him back," Hammer folded one of the pages in the magazine to read later, "You're gonna kill yourself or someone else being so selfish."
"No," Murphy protested. He shifted into reverse. Hammer swiftly pulled forward and blocked his way. Nonetheless, Murphy pushed against him to no avail.
"I don't have a trailer to put him in," Mack's eyes fell down to Murphy.
"Listen, Squeaky," Hammer brought a wheel up on top of his trunk to hold him down, "You two live in the same county," he looked back to Mack, "And you out of all trucks wouldn't be able to sleep at night either if he went off drivin' like this."
"He's right, Murphy. You're driving is impaired and you're downright silly driving without headlights."
"My driving is not impaired."
Hammer lifted his tire off him, "You ran out of gas because you weren't paying any attention to yourself. You probably weren't even paying attention to the world around you."
"Two days without sleep…," Mack whistled, "Surprised you weren't hearing voices under your roof."
"Use my trailer," Hammer motioned his cab to where all of the trailers stood, "And you can drive it back to me when you're done. Really, Mack, I can beat you in a game of poker any day. We can skip it just this once."
Mack rolled forward, "I'll make you a deal, Murphy."
"What?" Murphy snapped.
"How about you take a nap in Hammer's trailer, then when you wake up and you're all clear in the head, you can open it up and leave when you're ready."
Murphy leaned to his side, feeling his axles aching from the long stretches of driving.
"Sound good?"
Murphy thought about it more, biting his bottom lip, "...mhm."
"You'll do it?"
"Sure."
"Come on, then," Mack pulled up next to him, "I'll drive you over to it."
The two vehicles drove over to the line of trailers, then stopped behind Hammer's.
His trailer was a large black trailer with dust and dirt stained on its sides. Parts of the dirt outlined an area on both sides that used to be a logo from one of his older jobs. The trailer door had a plastic window that could fold itself when the door opened and unfold itself when the door shut. While that didn't make the window airtight, it made up for the fact that there were no lights in the trailer. It was merely a cold metal floor with the debris of all of Hammer's previous jobs settled onto it and the plastic window.
Mack opened the trailer door and a ramp pushed out, "Try to get some rest."
Expecting a nice warmth to radiate out of the trailer, Murphy was surprised to find the temperature of the air inside matched the temperature outside.
"It's really cold in there," Murphy shivered. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it on the ground.
"I know. You had your engine on for days and that's what kept you warm, but now you have to give you and your engine a rest before you have an engine failure in your near future."
Murphy turned around and positioned his rear wheels to the ramp. He slowly reversed into the trailer and then put himself in park.
"Turn your engine off," Mack advised, "You need to."
He hesitated, but Murphy finally listened, and turned it off.
Mack watched the young man in his struggle and frowned, "I know what'll keep you warm."
He leaned forward and let his Rust-eze hat tumble off his roof. He caught it with a tire, then tossed it inside the trailer onto Murphy's roof. The hat was oversized, hanging over the young race car like an igloo. His body heat was instantly captured inside of the fabric and it cradled his body.
"Is that better?"
Murphy's eyes hung low, "Much.."
"Goodnight, kid."
"Thank you.."
After Mack shut the trailer door, he drove back to Hammer.
Murphy watched as Mack drove away, then his axles gave out from underneath him. He collapsed onto the trailer floor and shut his eyes.
"You are driving him back as soon as Squeaky knocks himself out, right?"
Mack nodded his cab, "Yeah, but I feel like I'm carnapping him."
"You're doing no such thing," Hammer insisted, "You're uniting a boy with his father. Another classic."
The next afternoon, Austin visited Jane before heading to Nebraska to see his father for the rest of winter break.
"Slow down!" Austin panted. He lowered his voice until it was under his breath, "Chrysler..."
"Keep up, cop!" Jane shifted into the next gear and gained more distance, "Just watch out for these turns, 'cause they're a doozy!"
She used to lose her breath at these speeds for long distances, but with Lightning and Murphy's advice, and practice every other day, she can finally clear a sprint without feeling fatigued.
"You're speeding!" he gasped, "And now I'm speeding!" he pulled off his accelerator.
"Ain't it great!?" Jane effortlessly floated above the asphalt, swaying into the turns and curves of the roads in Tailfin Pass, where she resided with McQueen and Sally in the Wheel Well, "Don't you feel free!?"
"How could anyone feel free when they're breaking the law!?"
"Almost there!" Jane took the last bend, and drifted to a stop in front of her home, "Here it is!"
Moments later, Austin caught up. His tongue pushed out with every heave of his breath, "Y-You're so fast...I'll never be able to catch up to any criminals higher than my horsepower."
Jane turned to the police interceptor, "That's so not true."
"Then what if I ever need to catch up to a Porsche like you? I can't."
"A racing Porsche. Not a regular Porsche."
"Which proves my point."
"But you know you're not an ordinary Ford," Jane smirked, "You're a police Ford. You're special."
Austin's mirrors perked up at her words, "You think I'm special?"
"Of course I do! You're one of my best friends in the whole wide world!"
Just when Austin caught his breath to say more, it was taken away once again at the sight of the grand Wheel Well Motel, "You live here? In this place?"
"Yep!" Jane said proudly.
"It's beautiful!" he gazed up at the details against the high noon sun creating a shade over the wooden rims of the design.
"My parents remodeled and rebuilt it with their own tires," Jane replied, "Wanna see the view?" Jane wagged her little trunk, "C'mon!"
She took his wheel in hers and yanked him with her.
"Whoa!" he dashed forward and came to a rough stop; or else he'd fall off the edge of the canyon cliff.
"Being this close to the edge isn't really safe..."
"Neither was speeding up here, but you did it!"
Austin's eyes trailed down her fenders, which brought his eyes to her doors, naturally. Even though she was only his friend, he couldn't help but notice her figure becoming more fit by the day. Her curves delighted him and they caught the eye of many young men in school, but her paint was especially hypnotizing with the bright sun reflecting the depth of the purple, creating shadows on itself.
"It's really pretty."
"You're not even looking," Jane pointed, "Out there...take a look."
Austin ripped his gaze away and looked ahead toward the vast valley, way above Radiator Springs, and far from the rest of the towns in the county.
"What do you see?" Jane asked, glancing at him.
"I see...," Austin's eyes narrowed, studying the sight, "I see...a big map. There's Radiator Springs...then follow Route 66 down to the next town...and then right on the horizon is the next town," Austin looked over at her, "That's what I see. In fact, it's a great way to plan the shortest routes and other short cuts to catch bad guys! Who needs a real map or a GPS when you can study the world around you from this view and be able to drive with your eyes shut? You'll always have that compass in your head. If someone is stuck on the side of the road and needs your help, you'll know the quickest way to get there."
"Huh...I guess you really do see a map!" though she couldn't see it herself, she could understand him.
"And you?" Austin asked, stealing Jane's eyes again, "If you don't see a map, what do you see?"
Jane flashed a bright grin, "I see one long endless racetrack...with no audience. Just the essence of driving down there. Look at the way that road just begs you to come see what surprises it has for you. Maybe a victory! Or a lesson!"
"Don't you mean a loss?"
"My father always says that if you don't win, it's because the car who won knew something you didn't. That, or you didn't practice enough. Which means it still taught you something."
Austin sighed happily, "Tell me more."
"I can go on for ages about what I see up here. Sometimes I come here after school, just to watch everyone else comin' home...I like to guess how fast they're driving...where they're off to…," she giggled softly, "This is gonna sound silly…"
"Never," Austin assured her, "I like hearing how happy you get when you're talking about racing."
"This is different. My parents tell me stories all of the time. Well, everyone in town does. They usually teach me something, but one day, my parents told me about the time they first took a drive up here together. My mom took my dad right here and tried so hard to make him see how amazing this was...but he didn't really get it until my mom told him how many cars would have rather saved ten minutes of beauty than experience these canyon roads."
"Did he ever really appreciate it the way your mom did?"
Jane swayed one of her front wheels back and forth, "Not exactly the same way, but he did end up falling in love with it the same way she did."
"So if your mom saw the beauty in that road because of the canyons, what did you father see?"
"He saw my mom. My dad said that road still makes him think of her. It leads to her, he says."
"Aww...that is so sweet," Austin grinned, "No wonder your parents are so in love."
"That's why any time I'm here with someone I've never asked before, I ask them what they see in this view. The answer is always different."
Austin took another look at the road, "Maybe that road can help my mom find a man that will love her as much as Lightning McQueen loves your mom."
"You never know!"
"I wish I could stay here instead of going to Nebraska...stay here with you guys."
"Instead of with your dad?"
Austin nodded, "You guys make me happy. And you? It's like you're never upset. Alyssa is great too, but sometimes it's hard for me to talk to her. I don't feel like that with you."
"I get upset too. I'm not really supposed to tell anyone, but one of my friends actually left the county the other day. You can't tell me that wouldn't make me upset."
"I don't mean to make that two friends when I leave..but I'll be back very soon! And so will your friend, right?"
"He-," Jane swallowed a little roughly, "-made it clear he didn't wanna come back."
"Because of you?"
"Not 'cause of me...he-...I...I shouldn't have told you...never mind."
"You're trying to lie. I can tell," Austin brought a wheel to hers, "You can tell me anything, Jane."
She looked down at their touching tires, "Never mind it."
"Well, can I tell you anything too?"
"Of course you can."
"Then...I got to tell you something."
Jane pulled her lips in, remembering what Alyssa said about him wanting to be with her.
Austin took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. He tightened his grip on her treads, "If someone liked you..you'd want them to tell you, right?"
As uncomfortable as she was beginning to feel, Jane kept her smile and nodded, "Yes. I think cars should always hear when someone likes them."
"Then..I..," Austin's eyes shifted down to his hood, "I really like Alyssa a lot."
Jane's bumper practically dropped to the floor when her jaw sprung open, "...excuse me...?"
"Alyssa. Sometimes I zone out in class just looking at her doors."
"Her...doors?"
"Yeah and her eyes."
Jane almost snorted behind her grille, but she pulled her tire away from his and put it up to her mouth. It made her words muffle, "That's all you wanted to tell me..?"
"Do you think she'll never speak to me again? Because I wanted to ask her to the homecoming dance. I told everyone who asked me who I'm going with that I was going with you and that I liked you. If you found out, I knew you wouldn't ignore me if I did."
"Neither would Alyssa. I know her very well. She doesn't have a date right now, so go for it!"
"Who are you going with? Because I'll go with Alyssa, Murphy is going with Gianna, and everyone else is pretty much paired up."
Jane scoffed as soon as she heard Gianna's name, "No one. I have to practice for the RSN program. I can't miss this for the world. A dance is definitely not getting in the way of that."
"Fair enough," Austin rested on his axles, looking out at Radiator Springs and Route 66 again, "Oh, hey! Maybe that road down there will bring your friend back!"
"Only if the road thinks he's meant to be here. It has a funny way of doing that…making a car who belongs here stay."
As the day continued on into the afternoon, a car came zooming past Sheriff's billboard. He blinked his eyes open and gasped, "What in blue blazes?"
The car continued speeding toward Radiator Springs.
"No, you don't," Sheriff growled between his teeth. He turned on his sirens and swung onto the road. The car looked in her sideview mirror and pulled over just before entering the town. As Sheriff came closer, his lips parted and his angry scrunched up grille faded into a small smile.
She was a 1960 Ford Fairlane 500 police cruiser, decked out in black and white with a single red siren on her roof.
Sheriff pulled up next to her and cleared his throat, "I apologize."
The Fairlane's bright green eyes looked into his, "You're only doing your job. I should have had my sirens on."
Her voice was smooth and different than what Sheriff usually hears: Mid-Western American. She couldn't have been from this state, but her speed told him that she's lived here for some time.
Sheriff went to answer her, but he was too stuck on her voice.
"So, I should be sorry," she chuckled.
Sheriff shook himself out of it, "Sirens? Is there something going on in my town that you got a call about?"
"No, I'm here to pick up my son."
Sheriff's body lowered when he heard she had a child, "Maybe I've seen 'em...I'll help you look."
The two officers began driving next to each other, entering the town.
"His name is Austin," said the Fairlane, "Oh! My name is Brenda. Awfully rude of me to not introduce myself."
"My name is Sheriff and I've seen Austin. He went up to Tailfin Pass to visit Jane."
"Sheriff, huh?" she giggled again, "Well I guess I know why you've always wanted to be an officer of the law."
Sheriff cracked another smile, "Heh..ah-yep."
"Hey, Ma!" called the young police car's voice from the other end of town. Jane was right next to him, grinning.
"There he is!" said Brenda. She motioned for him to come over. Austin and Jane quickly made their way over and stopped just in front of them.
"So this is Jane," Brenda grinned sweetly, "How are you?"
Jane waved her tire, "Howdy, Miss-...Miss.."
"You can call me Brenda."
"Brenda! Okay!"
"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine?"
Sheriff chimed in, "She's wonderful and so is Austin. He's very well behaved. I can see where he gets it from."
Brenda nodded, "He didn't get it from his father, that's for sure. I'm about to take him to the train station because it's his turn to watch him."
"My parents are divorced," said Austin.
"Divorced?" Sheriff stood taller on his axles again.
Austin looked up at his mother, "Can't I just stay with you?"
"Baby, you know I'd love nothing more, but I'll get in trouble if I don't listen to the court. You know that."
"Mm...I know.."
"C'mon now," Brenda patted Austin's fender.
"Bye, Austin! Have fun in the snow!" Jane leaned against him, "Take pictures!"
Austin chuckled, "Sure will."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Jane," Brenda turned with Austin, "And you as well, Sheriff."
Sheriff bowed his hood, "Yes, ma'am."
Brenda and Austin drove away to the train station, passing Mack who was on his way into town.
Jane saw him and bounced up and down on her axles, "Mack! You're back!"
"I'm gonna go keep an eye on the road again," said Sheriff, turning back to his billboard.
The quiet afternoon on Main Street was interrupted by the rattling large truck. Sally's eyes widened and she drove around her office desk. She curiously poked her hood outside to see where all the commotion was coming from.
"Mack?" she asked, wide eyed, "You're home from your trip early," she leaned to her side and noticed that he wasn't trailing his regular trailer, "Whose is that?"
Mack pulled to a stop in front of the Cozy Cone, "It belongs to a buddy of mine," Mack checked his mirrors, "And I'm not staying. I just stopped by to drop someone off, then I'm going back for the rest of the week.
"Who is it?" asked Jane.
"Some kid that ran out of gas on the side of the interstate. He's been out driving for well over twenty-four hours without any rest and - get this - no headlights."
Sally's eyes widened, "Goodness."
Jane felt her gas tank sink, "...no headlights, huh?"
As Sally rolled around the back, Mack opened the trailer door. Jane stayed put in somewhat of a trance. Maybe she was right. Maybe the road really does bring cars who were meant to stay.
"Jane, are you alright? You're daydreaming," Mack smiled at her, "You thinking about that Piston Cup?"
"Huh? Oh...yeah...Piston Cup…"
Sally bit the inside of her cheek at the sight of the familiar kid. The young black stock car was cuddled up under Mack's hat. His body calmly moved up and down as he steadily breathed.
"Thank you, Mack," she said, "I'll take him from here."
"It's no problem, but just a fair warning, he-"
"We know him. He's Jane's classmate," Sally rolled up the ramp and gently cupped her wheel underneath his chin.
Jane's mirrors perked up when she heard her classmate was inside the trailer.
"The road is magic…," Jane whispered.
Sally carefully reversed while she pulled him toward the exit. The hat slid off his body. She slowly rolled out of the trailer with him, revealing Murphy, then guided him to one of the vacant cones.
"Alright, then I'll be seeing ya!" Mack closed the trailer, "Jane, be good, and tell dad I said hello!"
He made a wide turn and drove off toward the interstate.
Jane zoomed over to Sally and Murphy, "Is he okay?"
"Shhh…," Sally opened one of the garage doors and Murphy's eyes started to move.
Sally froze in place, staring at Murphy's eyelids, but Murphy grumbled in his sleep, then relaxed again. The moment Sally had another opportunity, she held her breath and guided him inside of the cone.
Sally cranked the heat up and pulled a soft blanket over his roof. She quietly slipped out of the cone, then shut the garage door.
"This is bad news," said Sally, "Mack said Murphy was alone, so Chick is probably worried sick," she turned her wheels, "I'm going to go call-"
"No!" Jane exclaimed. She immediately lowered her voice, "Don't do that."
Sally raised an eyelid, "And why not?"
"Because-"
"Don't lie to me."
"Yes, momma…it's because Chick sent him to California on his own to see Los Angeles."
"Murphy is a little older than you and I would never let you do that, let alone believe Chick would let his son do that."
"But you'll have to when our school sends us!"
"That's different. Your school is responsible for that trip. This is completely different."
"It doesn't matter. That's what happened, okay?"
"So Chick sent his son to Los Angeles - alone - for his winter break?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Sally sighed, "Jane, you do know that sounds crazy, right? But...you've never given me a reason not to trust you, so I trust you."
"Can I get him spicy curly fries from Flo's, momma?"
Sally giggled, "Of course you can, but don't wake him up if he's still sleeping."
Sally turned back to her office lobby and continued her work.
Jane grinned and drove across to Flo's. She pulled in by the "drive-thru" sign and waited by the window. After a moment, a red Miata slid the window open, "Jane! Hey, girl! What can I get you?"
"Hi, Mia! And spicy curly fries, please."
"How big do you want 'em?"
"Large."
Mia went to write it down, but then Jane changed her order, "No, small!"
She just remembered that Murphy watches his weight.
"Alright, a small order of spicy curly fries."
A second red Miata came rolling in from behind her swinging a plastic bag, "Here you go!"
"Thanks, Tia!" said Jane as she took the bag.
She rolled on over to the Cozy Cone again, then gently knocked on the garage door of the cone Murphy was resting in. She waited, but didn't hear a thing.
She knocked a bit louder this time.
Murphy's eyes blinked open at the sound of the knocking. He took a groggy look around the room, "..mmm?"
"Hello?" said Jane from the other side of the door.
The room came into better focus. He noticed the geometric orange and white cones on the wallpaper, then the framed landscapes of international landmarks painted as caution cones, "What the-"
He looked up. The ceiling came closer and closer to itself until it closed in at the tip. There wasn't a single corner in the room. Everything was a cone...every single thing.
He reversed, feeling the illusion getting to his mind, then bumped into the round wall behind him. He gasped loudly, then pulled forward. He looked for the closest switch he could find, the switch for the garage door, then repeatedly slapped it with his tire.
As the door opened, Jane peered inside, "Hey, you're awake!"
"Jane?" he asked as the door finally finished opening, "What are you doing in Nevada?"
"Nothing...because you're in Radiator Springs!"
"No, I can't be," he glanced past Jane and saw the desert road and endless blue sky, "That truck…ugh! He lied to me!"
"Calm down…you're a little scary when you're mad."
"And what's with these cones?"
"You're in the Cozy Cone...my mom's motel," Jane rolled her eyes.
"Does she know how terrifying it is to wake up to this?"
"You'd be the first-"
"Wait," Murphy sniffed the air, "Are those... spicy curly fries?"
Jane smirked and shook the bag, "Only the best ones in the whole country."
"Let me get some. I'm starving."
"You can have them all. They're for you," she passed the bag to Murphy. He reached inside and stuffed a couple in his mouth, "Sweet Chrysler these are amazing."
"So...what did Mack lie to you about?"
"You know that truck too?"
"He's my dad's driver."
Murphy paused and sighed, "I'm surrounded…"
"But what did he lie to you about?"
"Is there anyone you don't know in this country? Because I met him an entire state away."
"I mean-"
"He said that he would let me rest and then continue to California in the morning...I'm so pissed. Now I have to do that all over again."
Jane pushed Murphy back and quickly shut the garage door, "No."
Murphy stared right at her eyes, "What?"
"It's been days. You're not leaving again. Alyssa is too busy. Austin is leaving to see his father. You running away doesn't make you sound so eager to hang with Caleb, so I know you don't have anything better to do."
"Hold on."
"And Gianna too."
"...Jane?"
"You didn't seem so eager to spend time with her over the break either."
"Are you saying you missed me?"
"And-...," Jane stood still, then scuffed her wheel against the carpet, "I guess you could say I wanted to, like, race with you or-"
"You really suck at lying," Murphy chuckled.
"...yeah...yeah, I missed you," although Jane was painted purple now, her hood began to turn pink just below her windshield.
Murphy sighed, "You know, when I called Gianna, I told her that I was going to be gone for only a few days, so she'll be expecting me tomorrow or the day after."
"So you were gonna come back after all?" Jane leaned back to lift her front end, so she could hide the fact that she was blushing.
"No...I wasn't," Murphy rolled to the clock radio in the motel room, "I don't know what I would have said to her if I didn't come back," he turned the clock radio on and the news began to play, "She would have probably dumped me, which-"
"But with that said, I'm retiring from racing. I will not continue this Piston Cup season."
Murphy's mirrors twitched at the voice on the radio.
Jane raised an eyelid, "Is that Chick?"
Murphy nodded slowly and turned up the volume.
"I'd say my time is up. I'm not proud of the end of my career, but I'm proud of what came out of it: an amazing son. I know I'm supposed to be the one teaching him, but that little man has taught me a lot more about racing than he'll ever learn from me. When I look at him, I see the future. The racing world is forever changing. We should be grateful. It's one of the only sports in this world that, by design, evolves. I'm proud to have earned a Piston Cup, but I'm not proud of my actions that have given me the right to say that. With these new race cars coming into the seasons one by one, there's just not enough left in my body to keep up. It's time to pass the torch, as they say, to the next rookie with a dream."
A female news reporter asked Chick another question live on the air, "And what about Lightning McQueen? The world knows he's your rival. How do you think he will react to the news?"
"When your rival leaves, you become someone else's rival. I believe McQueen will show these rookies how to become the legend he is today, until it's time for him to retire as well."
"Thank you, Mister Chick Hicks, for those words. There's no doubt that you had fans then, fans today, and that you will have fans in your retirement. Is there anything else you'd like the racing world to know?"
"The racing world has heard enough from me. I just want to say something to my son, if I can."
"Go right ahead."
"Champ, I don't know if you can hear me, but I want to teach you something you never got to learn in your racing history class. That rivalry between McQueen and I that went on for years...I feel that same rivalry between us right now. I was thunder and McQueen was, well, lightning. But, son, we don't fight anymore. We respect each other as fellow racers...and fathers. So if there's one thing I want you to learn from my racing career...no...from both Thunder and Lightning's careers...storms don't last."
"There you have it, race fans. Today, the Piston Cup racing series says farewell to Chick 'Murphy' Hicks. Former and forever Piston Cup champion."