The next morning dawned with bright hot sunlight streaming down on the Raytona Speed Oval, the big road rally only 24 hours away. The drivers were busy doing practice laps around the speedway, their crews were hard at work adjusting engines and tire pressure, calculating fuel mileage, and other pre pre-race preparations. The Go Team was no different, using the wind tunnel to determine and improve aeropush of the Mach 5, making it even faster. Although this race was a road rally, the information gathered would serve them in other races during the coming season.
The test was drawing to a close when Trixie came over to where Sparky was getting his readings. She glanced at the printout as Sparky perused through it.
"Well, Sparky, how'd it go?"
Sparky glanced over at Trixie. "So far the Mach 5 is proving to be head and shoulders above the crowd. Should be a terrific season for us, the readings were all above average."
Trixie's pretty visage lit up delightedly as she watched Speed pull the Mach 5 out of the tunnel, drive over, park it, then stride over to where she and Sparky stood. He wrapped his arm about her and leaned in to steal a kiss, then peered at the printout. His face registered pleased satisfaction.
"Well, everything's lookin' real good if this printout's right. We should nail this race without a doubt," Speed said confidently.
"Yeah, man, it looks like the other cars shouldn't even bother showin' up," Sparky added.
"You guys should see someone about your lack of self-esteem. It's really a problem," Trixie said satirically.
Speed and Sparky exchanged glances and then burst into laughter. Trixie joined them with her melodic giggles.
Their mirth was interrupted by an irate Pops, who came storming over to the group of young adults brandishing several newspapers. "Well, I'm glad that somebody's having a good time because the Go Team just got hit by an earthquake!" He strode up and threw the papers at them. "Take a look."
The trio stopped laughing and looked quizzically at the papers. The front of the sports section was covered in pictures from the press junket the other night, spotlighting several of the racers in the Raytona Road Rally, but the most prominent was one of Speed and the girl Debbie whose arms were wrapped around his neck possessively. The caption read: Rookie Racing Sensation Speed Racer Gets The Congratulations From Supermodel Debbie Donne Before He Gets The Checkered Flag. Another paper had the same picture with the caption Supermodel and Super Racer Steam Up Windows At Seacoast Beach Club and Dance Floor at Tropica Caliente. But the kicker was the front page of the local gossip tabloid, where the headline read: ROOKIE RACER ROUNDS CURVES OF SUPERMODEL-EXCLUSIVE INSIDE!
Speed was totally dumfounded, utter shock registering on his sculptured features, his eyes wide in astonishment. He skimmed through the articles and they all relayed his past relationships, insinuating that he was not only fast on the racetrack but fast with the ladies as well. And the tabloid, The National Insinuator which had boasted the exclusive, had a two-page spread in the paper that had Debbie saying that she and Speed were not only involved, but relayed a graphic description of an intensely intimate relationship.
Sparky made a low whistle. "Wow, Speed, they really took it to you."
Pops snorted, "Yeah, and now your reputation has created some problems with our sponsor. They want a wholesome image for their paper products and they called and were about to cancel their sponsorship. It took some quick thinking and smooth talking by me to convince them to give us another chance but believe me it wasn't easy. And without them, we can forget about racing this season because we have no money other than the factory. And you also represent my factory, Speed. How can I sell cars to families when my son is written about as a deviant?"
Speed blinked twice, words at a loss. He then looked at Trixie, who had been silent and remote, her eyes peeled to the newspapers before them. He gently touched her shoulder and was surprised then dismayed when she knocked his hand away and stepped back.
"Please don't touch me," she said softly and coldly. She turned to Pops. "Pops, I'll be cleaning out my trailer and leaving within an hour." She glared at Speed with eyes filled with tears of betrayal as she made to leave but Pops detained her.
"Trixie, please don't. Don't leave now, we have the race tomorrow, we need you," he pleaded as he threw a reproachful look at his middle son.
Trixie looked into Pops face and brushed her hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. "A-all right, Pops. I'll stay for you. But only for you!" she cried as she ran the way to her trailer.
"Trixie, wait!" Speed called as he made to sprint after her but Pops laid a beefy hand to keep him.
"Leave her alone, Speed. We need her for tomorrow's race and right now in her present mood, she'll leave and we can't let that happen."
Speed looked like he had been sucker punched. He was in a stunned state, his eyes staring bleakly in space. "Yeah, yeah, okay. I won't go near her," he promised tonelessly as he slowly walked away, shoulders slumped in defeat.
It was late afternoon and Trixie opened her eyes to the sun streaming in from the window. After the upsetting events from the morning, she had locked herself in the trailer, and threw herself on the bed, crying hysterically as she dealt with the harsh reality that shattered her dream. She shunned lunch with the Racers, saying she was not feeling well but the truth was she couldn't eat for the cold hole in the pit of her stomach. Fact also was, she was furious with Speed, but she was angrier with herself for being blind, for based on what she had observed between him and Debbie, it was obvious that they had had an intimate relationship. She was foolish to think that he had been celibate before, the career he was in was too high profile for that to be the case. Still, it hurt like a hot, dull knife plunging deep into her heart to think of him being tender with anybody else. And Debbie Donne was a supermodel-a beautiful, desirable girl of any man's dreams. How did you think to compete with that? she had chided herself bitterly as the tears lulled her into an uneasy sleep.
Trixie sat up and listlessly threw her legs over the edge. Her eyes fell on a framed photograph that sat on the shelf by the door, a picture that had become her talisman since it was taken. Speed had told her when he gave it to her that it was a picture of him with the two most important women in his world. Sparky had taken the picture one day at the practice track of her and Speed, he with one arm resting on the Mach 5, the other looped around her shoulders as he grinned into the camera with his classically handsome visage. She had been looking up at him in adoration and that was how the photo was snapped. She recalled how she had been so happy that day, her place on the Go Team secured and her relationship with Speed growing closer and prospering. And her relationship with the Racers in general was as if she were the daughter they never had. Mom Racer especially had taken to her and they had become extremely close, like an actual mother and daughter.
Trixie sighed as she rose from the bed and took a seat at the table and idly leafed through the notes she had been taking on the course for the rally tomorrow. But the heart for the task had completely gone out of it for her, before it had been a labor of love. Yes, she loved Speed, loved him with all her heart and she would do anything, anything in her power to help him succeed. At least she would have before the walls came crashing down earlier.
Trixie frowned thoughtfully as she sat there and despondently pondered her options. She knew she had assured Pops that she'd remain with the team. She had signed a contract with Pops MotorSports to spot for the entire Formula 1 season and she was not a person to shirk her responsibility or commitment. But being near Speed everyday, as well as having to have constant contact with him she knew would be difficult if not impossible, given their close and intensely personal relationship. Would she be able to act in a cool professional manner and put her feelings aside? Could she stand to be so near to him and work with him knowing that when he left the track, he'd be heading to spend time with someone else? She began to highly doubt that she could, so she ripped the notes off the pad to get to a clean sheet and began to write.
Back at the track, Speed was running laps in the Mach 5 to get ready for the rally in the morning. But his thoughts were on the incredible turn of events that had taken place earlier, and the repercussions they had wrought making him wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning. Speed brooded about the articles in the various newspapers, turning his world inside out. He was feeling a myriad of emotions, shock, fury, and a deep and heavy sadness at the way Trixie reacted, feeling like something rare and precious was slipping from his fingers and he was powerless to stop it. The look on her face had torn him apart inside, and her refusal to see or speak to him was adding insult to injury, like rubbing salt into a new wound. Her absence from the noon meal had depressed him further and filled him with guilt. He was filled with a feeling of total despair.
The Mach 5 rumbled up to where Sparky was waiting. Speed cut the motor and after removing his helmet, hoisted himself over the side to exit the cockpit. He brushed his hair back out of his eyes and sighed, "Well how'd everything look?"
"Whattya mean you or the car?" Sparky quipped.
Speed glared at him. "The car, bright boy. I don't particularly care what your assessment of me is at this time."
"Well, like it or not, I'm gonna give you both. The car as usual is spectacular, looking as good as she can. You, on the other hand, look like you got hit with a ton of bricks and you barely survived."
"Thank you for that wonderful description. Now if the diagnosis is over, doctor, could I please get the hell out of here. I need to think." Speed made to leave but Sparky grabbed his arm to stop him.
"And where are you going?"
Speed looked at Sparky as if he were from another world. "Why do you want to know? You afraid I'll do something rash? Well relax, all I'm gonna do is crash for a while then maybe take a ride. I'm a big boy and I don't need a nursemaid," he snapped.
"Speed, you're not yourself right now. I don't think you should be alone," Sparky insisted.
"Give me a break, Spark! I'm okay and I need some time to figure out what I'm gonna do about this whole mess. As a matter of fact, forget the nap, I'm splitting, see ya later." He climbed back into the Mach 5 and fired the motor, revving it energetically.
Sparky vaulted over the passenger side as Speed eyed him coolly. "Well, in that case, I'm going with you."
Speed shook his head in disgust. "Fine, suit yourself," he sighed resignedly as he shifted gears and screeched away in a cloud of dust.
At sunset, Trixie approached the Racer family trailer with great trepidation, holding a white envelope. She had spent all afternoon weighing her options and figuring her next move, and came to a very difficult decision. Trixie knew that Pops would be in the trailer since the whole family took their meals there to save money even though they lodged in the suites at the track. She knocked tentatively at the door, hoping Speed wouldn't open it and was relieved when Mom Racer answered.
"Hello, Trixie, dear. How are you feeling, we all missed you at lunch." Mom Racer opened the door then turned around and faced the stove, stirring the pot of stew she had prepared for dinner.
"Oh, okay, thanks." Trixie looked around. "Where is everybody?"
Mom bent down and checked the biscuits baking in the oven. "Well, Pops is in the garage making a last minute check of fuel and tires, Spritle and Chim Chim are playing out back and Speed and Sparky have gone out for a ride-that's what they told Pops," she said matter-of-factly.
"Oh I see. Well, I want to talk to Pops so maybe I'll go out to take a walk over to the garage," Trixie said as she turned to leave but Mom halted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"He'll be here soon for dinner," Mom stated as she finished stirring the pot. "Trixie, dear, I'd like to talk to you. I know all about those articles in the paper and what they said about Speed and that girl and how you reacted to them." Mom gestured to a chair with her other hand. "Please sit down."
Out of regard and respect Trixie did as she was told. She sat docilely at the table with her head down as Mom joined her, sitting across from her. She dreaded hearing what Mom would say, knowing deep down that Speed was Mom's son, her own flesh and blood and Mom would defend him no matter what, putting Trixie at a disadvantage.
Mom Racer reached over and took Trixie's hand. "I want to tell you something and I hope you'll let me say what I have to before you decide to do something that you and everybody will regret." She nodded at the white envelope that Trixie had placed on the table. "Your resignation I assume?"
Trixie swallowed nervously as she nodded. "I feel that it's best for everyone that I leave the Go Team," she said miserably, tears stinging her eyes.
Mom patted her hand and looked deeply into Trixie's eyes, unnerving her. Her eyes were so like Speed's and like she found herself with his, she was instantly drawn in.
Trixie, dear, do you remember the night you were attacked?"
Trixie nodded, her tears flowing unabated. How could she forget? That would be one night that she would remember as long as she lived, she still had nightmares about it.
"Well, let me tell you that night after he came back from seeing you at National Hospital Speed was beside himself. He was so worried and afraid for you that night he couldn't sleep."
"H-he couldn't?"
"No, he couldn't. And I heard him milling about in the kitchen at 2 AM so I came down to see if he was all right. Trixie, in all the 19 years I've known and watched him, I had never seen him as upset as he was that night. He was shattered."
Trixie studied Mom Racer closely. "Really?"
Mom nodded, "Trixie, he's my son and I know him better than anyone. Speed told me that night how much you meant to him and he had only known you for three days at the time. I know that he adores you and it's not just infatuation, his feelings are genuine."
"B-but why didn't he speak up when that reporter and photographer were there at the press party? And why didn't he say anything last night at the discotheque?" Trixie asked glumly.
Mom smiled, "Trixie, let me teach you something about men. Living in a house full of them makes me somewhat of an expert. They have tremendous egos that need continuous stroking and when women fall all over them, they lose sight of everything else. Believe me, it's true especially when obviously attractive women do, they really lose it then."
"They do?"
"Oh yes my dear. I had to deal with it all the time before Dragon and I got married. He was the captain of the West Side Grunters and Groaners and there were gads of attractive women flocking around him before and after matches and meets, it was disgusting."
Trixie's eyes widened. "How'd you deal with it?"
Mom sat back thoughtfully and answered, "I told him when I knew he was serious about me that he couldn't encourage other girls if he wanted me, that he couldn't have his cake and eat it too. I told him that if it was freedom he wanted, that I would bow out"
"Did it work?"
"It sure did. One thing about Racer men, when it looks like they're about to lose something, they grab hold and don't let go. It was true with Pops and after the boys were born, it was true with all of them. The fights I used to have to break up because Rex beat Speed in something or Speed beat Spritle. They all hate to lose."
Trixie nodded in understanding. "So when they think they're losing something, they really dig their heels in?"
Mom nodded sadly, "Look at what happened with my oldest son. When Pops told him he couldn't race again, Rex turned and left the family, he wasn't going to let go of his dream."
"Speed has the same dream," Trixie pointed out.
"Yes, but he also has you. Rex had gone with different girls but there wasn't one special one, besides, he was too busy with racing. Speed, on the other hand with his looks, has attracted girls to him since he was 13 but no girls were special enough until you came along, Trixie. This Debbie was just one of a long line of girls he had seen last year when he began to get notice as a racer and I know she didn't mean anything to him."
"How can you be so sure? Did you read what she said? And you should've seen how he just stood there at the press party and last night while she hung all over him," Trixie recounted.
"Trixie, Speed's major flaw is he hates to hurt others, making it easy for women especially to walk all over him. He also likes to be the hero all the time. He gets that from his father. And in some ways he's still very much a boy, he needs to grow up."
Trixie sighed, "I'm beginning to see that in him."
Mom got to her feet to take the biscuits out of the oven. She then opened the pot to stir it again and then reached up to get the dishes for dinner. She turned to regard Trixie with her steady cornflower blue gaze.
"Well, what will you do, Trixie? Will you 'throw in the towel' as Pops says?"
Trixie sighed and she replied, "I'm gonna stick it out. I made a commitment to Pops and I'm gonna stand by it. I'll just handle Speed differently. Nothing personal, all business."
Mom smiled, "I think that's wise and I'm happy to hear that. My son may not realize it but he needs you." She reached in a drawer for silverware while she changed the subject. "You need to have dinner, you skipped lunch so please help me set the table."
Trixie grinned, "Will do." She got up and began to set the table as Pops, Spritle, and Chim Chim entered the trailer.
Dinner was pleasant but Speed and Sparky were conspicuously absent, Pops stating that the two had taken off for a ride and didn't know when they would be back. Trixie was secretly relieved that Speed wouldn't be there, for although she had decided to continue in her job with the team, she wasn't quite ready to confront him. After dinner, Trixie got to her feet and cordially addressed the Racers.
"Thanks ever so for everything you guys. And thanks especially Mom Racer." She reached and planted a kiss on the cheek of the Racer matriarch.
"It's my pleasure, sweetie. You can come to me any time you need to talk," Mom Racer said.
Pops said, "You all ready for tomorrow, Trixie?"
"Uh-huh. I just have to be up early tomorrow to do a final check on the helicopter and fuel it up but then I'll be ready to go."
"Okay. You need to touch base with Speed before the race, you know," Pops informed her with a wary eye.
Trixie smiled bravely. "I will, Pops, good night, everyone," she promised and waved as she headed out.
Pops returned the wave then sighed as he spoke to his wife. "Anyi, I hope that she stays with us. She's a great pilot, just like her old man was. I hope Speed hasn't blown it for himself or for the team."
Mom just smiled as she patted her husband's shoulder reassuringly. Neither noticed the white envelope still lying on the table with "Pops" written in delicate script.
On the seamier side of Raytona, way down by the docks was a broken-down bungalow that housed a dive known as the PIRATES COVE. It was a place that usually attracted the most questionable members of humanity, or those who associated with them. But because it was obscure and out of the way, it was the place for Speed to disappear temporarily. And given his present foul mood, Speed wanted to disappear.
The interior of the bar was decorated in the most hideous faded paper Japanese lanterns and tattered fishnets. A jukebox that looked as if it were ready for the Smithsonian stood in the corner and the tables and chairs were all battered and worn.
Sparky glanced around and commented, "Boy, you sure know the best places, buddy."
Speed pinned him with a glare. "I didn't come here as part of a sightseeing tour, Sparky so cut the comedy." He strode up to the bar took a seat and slapped a bill on the counter. "Gimme a beer."
The bartender was a beefy bald man and had a face that appeared as if it was made of rough-hewn stone. He took the bill and put a bottle before Speed who picked it up and downed half of it.
Sparky said, "Whoa there, buckaroo. Take your time there, the night's young."
"What're you, my mother?" Speed said sardonically. He finished the beer and then slapping down another bill said to the bartender, "Another beer and keep 'em comin'."
Sparky shook his head. It was going to be one hell of a night.
Two hours and several bottles of beer later, Speed and Sparky were sitting at one of the tables, beer bottles lined up before the two men like a platoon. Speed was completely smashed, slouched in his chair, red neck scarf all crooked and his cobalt irises were swimming in a sea of red. He had not eaten since lunch and the alcohol gave him an immediate buzz, allowing him the pseudo-impression of relief to deaden the ache in his heart. He engaged Sparky in a one-way conversation.
"Ya know, Spark, Trixie's all wrong. She don't unnerstan' that I gotta be gracious to everybody for my career. I'm gonna be the best racer inna world and I can't make emenies."
"Enemies."
"Yeah, right, thass what I said. Anyway, she has to know I'm crazy about her. She's the bess thing that ever happened to me. I think about her alla time." Speed slurred as he took another swig.
"You ever tell her, Speed?"
Speed stared off into space, as he pondered, "Not in so many words but hell, Sparky she's gotta know it. I mean, I ain't been with no girls since I been wif her. But wha's the use, I lost her now." He stumbled to his feet and lurched over to the jukebox, then reached in his back pocket for some change. He put some coins in the machine and made some selections, all sad love songs. He played Since I Fell For You, This 'Ol Heart Of Mine, When A Man Loves A Woman, I Could Never Love Another After Loving You, I Wish That It Would Rain, I know I'm Losing You, The Girl Don't Care, Oh How It Hurts, and then he found the song that just said it all for him, "Since ILost My Baby" by the Temptations. Speed played it once, then played it over and over, singing along with it.
Both Sparky and the bartender watched with a mixture of amusement and pity as the sodden young man poured his heart out in off-key song. Speed was on the umpteenth chorus when the door opened and some men entered the broken-down tavern and approached the bar. Speed was too into his misery and alcohol-soaked performance to notice that one of the men was none other than Phil Pistone. Fixer and two of Wiley's strongmen accompanied him.
Pistone sat on a stool at the bar, ordered a beer and watched the spectacle Speed was making of himself with disgust. Speed had always maintained a squeaky clean reputation and now it appeared that everything he and his family had built was between the newspaper articles and his present behavior was falling apart. But unaware of anything but his own sense of loss and desolation, he just continued serenading the small group in the dive.
Finally, Pistone had had enough. He got up and strode over to the inebriated young racer and stared him down, man to man.
"Looka, Racer, give it a rest. You suck as a singer, stick to racing. Although after I beat you tomorrow, maybe you should find a new job."
Speed glowered at him. Even as drunk as he was, the sight of Pistone's smirk was like he had ice water thrown in his face. He became coldly furious and amazingly sober as adrenaline began to surge through him.
"Pistone, maybe it'll be you that needs to find a new job after tomorrow. 'Cause I'm gonna make sure I not only win but that I will humiliate you." He turned and addressed the beefy bartender, "Hey fella, you really gotta watch who you let in here. I thought there's a law in this state that forbids bringing animals into places that serve food and drink."
Pistone's eyes narrowed to amber slits. His hands balled into fists as he faced Speed. "How dare you call me an animale! You little snot- nosed bastardo, it'sa time you learned how to respect your betters." He squared off with Speed who was only too happy to oblige.
He smiled unpleasantly. "Oh yeah? I guess you want to be my teacher, huh? Well, c'mon, teach, I'm waitin'!"
The two thugs with Fixer made to rise but he raised his hand up. "Leave 'em be. This is Pistone's fight." The two men sat down and with Fixer watched the proceedings.
Pistone grinned evilly and swung his left fist at Speed's head. Speed ducked easily and feinted as he buried his right fist into Pistone's belly, causing the man to make a harsh "Whoof" before he recovered and parried with a right of his own that knocked Speed into a setting of table and chairs. Spurred on by his rage and because of his youth and top physical condition, Speed recovered handily and charged at the Italian racer like a bull, the momentum taking both men into another group of chairs. Speed grabbed Pistone by the collar of his expensive silk shirt and slammed him into the wall, then delivered a left cross to his jaw, sending Pistone into the bottom of the bar. He lay there trying to rise but Speed aimed a kick right under his chin, sending the man sprawling on his back.
"Well, have ya had enough or do ya want some more?" Speed taunted as he stood at the ready, fists up.
Pistone sat up groggily, amazed that the once besotted young man was able to deliver such a beating. He leapt to his feet to do battle again but Fixer who had been watching from a neutral corner came to him to restrain him.
"Okay, you two, tha's enough! Now get the hell outta here both of ya or I'm callin' the cops," the bartender bellowed.
Fixer and the two men got up and strode over to the bar. He reached into his pocket and laid several bills on the counter. "That won't be necessary, we're leaving. That should be more than enough to cover the damages. Let's go, Phil." He wrapped an arm around the unsteady Pistone and flanked by the other two, walked him to the door.
Sparky, who had also stayed on the sideline took the hint and went over to Speed. "C'mon champ, let's split too before he changes his mind." He glanced over at the glaring bartender.
"Yeah, sure, Spark," Speed said stumbling a bit. Now that the fight was over and his adrenaline level dropped, the alcohol again took hold. They exited the bar and he lurched over to where the Mach 5 was parked. He began to get into the driver's side.
Sparky restrained him and took the key. "Oh no ya don't, pal. I'm driving us home so we'll get there in one piece. If you total the Mach 5, there goes your racing career and Pops'll probably disown you." He led Speed over to the passenger side and helped him in. Speed curled himself on the side and closed his eyes as he passed out.
Sparky shook his head then rounded the car to climb behind the wheel. He started the motor and began the long ride to the track. As he drove along, he glanced at his buddy in sympathy, seeing Speed looking incredibly innocent in repose and realizing how very young he still was, in spite of his journeys into manhood. All of them, him, Speed, and Trixie were barely adults and there were times their youth would show itself. Everything sometimes was just to big for them to handle.
Twenty minutes later, Sparky pulled the Mach 5 into the racers' trailer area at the speedway. Speed was still out, murmuring unintelligibly as they crept past Trixie's trailer and over to the one they were sharing.
Sparky cut the engine and lights as he reached over to shake Speed's shoulder. "Okay, pal, last stop. Up an' at 'em."
Speed groaned and turned himself closer to the door. Sparky sighed, exited the cockpit and went over to the passenger side to try again to rouse his napping comrade.
"Let's go, Speed. You gotta get some shuteye, the race is less then eleven hours away."
"Trixie, baby," Speed slurred. "I.love.you." He hugged himself as he turned again.
Sparky opened the door and grabbed Speed by the arm. "Okay, loverboy, let's get a move on. C'mon, now." He hoisted Speed to his feet and in a semi-conscious state he just followed Sparky's lead.
They made it to the trailer door and Sparky reached to open it when it swung open and a very irate Pops stood with his bulk silhouetted against the light from inside.
"Well, well! And where the hell have you two been, huh? Or let me take a guess," Pops said caustically as he surveyed the condition of his middle son. The two stumbled past him and into the trailer where Sparky unloaded Speed into a chair by the table and took a seat. Speed sat there crouched over the table, moaning with his head in his hands while Pops stood before him immense like Mount Everest and just as foreboding.
"Okay, Speed, start talking. Why are you in such shape? What possessed you to go out and get this plastered the night before a race, huh?" He shook his son's shoulder roughly. "Answer me, damnit!"
Speed brushed his father's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it now, Pops."
It was as if Speed had stirred a hornet's nest. Pops became apoplectic as his fury reached epic proportions, his eyes bulging with disbelief.
"You don't want to talk about! You don't want to talk about it? Well, let me tell you one thing, my son. You'd better grow up, get your act together and get your head outta your ass or you gonna find yourself out of racing for good! And that's not a threat, that's a fact!" Pops railed. "Now, I'm going to bed and you'd better too, we got a race to run tomorrow!" He then spun on his heel and stormed out slamming the door.
Speed cringed as the door banged shut. "I'm glad he's gone." He stared ahead and his eye caught the white envelope that had been lying on the table since dinner. He picked it up and immediately recognized Trixie's delicate script. "What's this?" he asked as he tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. He began to read:
Dear Pops,
Due to the difficult circumstances that exist within the team I regret to inform you that effective immediately I am resigning my position as spotter with the Go Team. It pains me to do this but under the present situation I feel I have no choice. At the conclusion of the race tomorrow, I will be vacating my trailer and returning home.
I would also like to thank you for making me a part of your family. I deeply appreciated everything you and your family did to help me through an extremely difficult time. For that, you will all hold a very special part in my heart.
I wish the very best to you and the Go Team for the coming racing season.
Sincerely,
Trixie Shimura
Speed's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he read it again, thinking himself in the midst of some bizarre nightmare, his vision blurring and giving him a feeling of surrealism. He shook his head to clear it and realizing that it was not a dream, bolted to his feet and out the door.
Sparky, who had been half-asleep in the chair he was sprawled in, jerked to awareness as he spotted Speed leave. "Hey, Speed, what gives?" he asked as he got up and picked up the letter Speed had discarded as he took off. He skimmed through it and his spirits sank.
Speed sprinted over to Trixie's trailer and he pounded on her door. "Trixie! Trixie! Open the door, I want to talk to you! Trixie!"
The door flew open and a bleary Pops greeted him. "What in the foggy blue mornin' is going on? Huh?" He opened his eyes wider and regarded his distressed middle son. "Speed? You're supposed to be in bed, do ya mind telling me what the hell's going on?"
"Pops, where's Trixie?" Speed demanded frantically. Could she already be gone?
"Whattya mean where's Trixie? She's staying in the suite with your mother tonight. I wanted to make sure I was up early and I wanted to be closer to the garage so we switched."
"Thanks, Pops," Speed said as he turned and raced over to the track lodging building. Pops shook his head and went back into the trailer.
Speed got to the building and not waiting for the elevator, wrenched open the door to the stairwell and bounded up to the third floor, taking the stairs two at a time. He reached the number of the suite that his family was housed in. He wrapped on the door insistently and a sleepy Mom Racer opened the door.
"Speed? What's the problem? Oh my!" she exclaimed upon seeing his bloodshot eyes. "Speedy, you look terrible!"
Speed pushed past his mother. "Mom, where's Trixie? I have to talk to her." He glanced all around and opened his mouth to call for her but Mom placed a finger over his mouth.
"Shhh, Speed, you're going to wake Spritle," Mom hissed in a whisper. "If you'll stay out here and be quiet, I'll go tell her."
"Thanks Mom," Speed whispered back. "Please tell her it's important."
As Mom disappeared into a bedroom and closed the door, Speed found himself praying. "Please, God, let her talk to me. I gotta keep her from leaving." The door opened and as quickly as it caught his heart sank as his mother came out and approached him.
"I'm sorry, Speedy but she says that she doesn't want to talk to you now but she did say that she would talk to you tomorrow."
"But, Mom--," Speed pleaded, but his mother was firm. She pushed her protesting son to the door, opened it and pushed him out.
"Now you need to go to bed. You have a race to drive and you need your rest. Good night, son," she said closing the door.
Speed sighed and in frustration banged his forehead on the wall. He turned to head down the hall when another suite opened and Racer X stepped out into the corridor. He smiled a greeting.
"Well, Speed, you're up early or late to bed. Which one is it?" Racer X commented. He glanced at the red-rimmed eyes and look of desolation on the young man's face. "Looks like you've been staring at the bottom of some beer bottles tonight."
Speed was suddenly very tired. "With all due respect Racer X, if you're gonna hassle me, I'm really not in the mood," he said shortly and made to move past but found his arm gently but firmly grasped. He glared at Racer X. "What's the big idea?"
"Speed, I want to talk to you. Come into my room," Racer X requested in a manner that was not accepting of a negative answer. He pulled the youth into his suite and pushed him onto the plush sofa in the parlor of the suite. He took a wooden chair and straddled it as he sat before Speed.
Speed looked up at him in expectancy. "What'd ya have on your mind?"
"Speed," Racer X began. "Have you any idea of how much you have?"
"What're you getting at?" Speed asked, puzzled.
"I'm saying this. You are very fortunate. You have a budding career, a wonderful, loving, supportive family, a loyal best friend, and a bright, beautiful girl who worships you. You're very blessed."
"I know this so what's your point?" Speed said a tad arrogantly, arms folded across his chest.
Racer X sighed, "Like I said, you're blessed. But you also need to use your head more. There are those in this business that like the limelight so much that they'll do anything to get recognition. And there are parasites in this business like no others."
"I know this."
"You say you do but by the way you've been behaving, you show me that you don't really. You've let a girl use you for her own selfish ambitions, put the team in turmoil, your career in jeopardy, and you're on the verge of losing the woman you love." Racer X recounted.
"Thanks for the recap," Speed said, yawning.
Racer X lost his patience. "Look, you can act like a spoiled brat getting another lecture or you can listen up and use the brains God gave you. You need to start seeing people for what they are, not what they appear to be. There are some real phonies out there, not everybody is deserving of your kindness."
He got Speed's attention. "How can you tell the difference?"
Racer X replied, "Users are the greatest flatterers. Especially very pretty women, they know exactly how to get what they want. And Speed, in racing, the woods are full of 'em. You need to be wary."
Speed studied the masked racer intently. "Did you have to deal with all this when you started racing?" he wanted to know.
"Speed, every racer who wants to be a success has to. But success can be a double-edged sword, it can cut a path for you and cut a path through you, you just have to know how to use it."
Speed sat there nodding. "Thanks, Racer X. I'm sorry about my attitude, everything just gets to me sometimes. Pops is always lecturing me and Sparky and sometimes even Trixie gives it to me. I just get tired of getting it from all sides," he admitted.
Racer X contemplated his brother. "Speed, do you know that your family name is well respected in racing circles?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, then you know that as the driver representing them, you have a great responsibility to them, and to Pops Motors to be at your best in every way. Others are always watching because of Pops and his reputation so now as his son, it falls on you, it's your destiny," Racer X pointed out.
Speed nodded yawning. It seemed that the night's activities had finally caught up to him. Racer X got up and replaced his chair. "Okay, lecture's over. I have an idea, Speed why don't you just crash here on my couch. You need to get some rest and I have an extra pair of PJs so whattya say?"
Speed nodded again. "Okay." He was falling asleep so Racer X bent down and removed Speed's shoes and socks, then swung his legs up onto the sofa. He went into the bedroom and got an extra pillow to place under his sibling's head, then threw a blanket over him. Speed murmured something and curled up on his side, snoring softly.
Racer X chuckled, "Good night, little brother." He reached and flipped the light off then retired to the bedroom closing the door.