Part 6-BEFORE THE RACE BEGINS
It was finally here, raceday, and the racing teams beat the sun this early morning, already hard at work preparing for the rally. The Go Team was no different, all members diligently doing their jobs to prepare the Mach 5 to go the distance and win. Sparky was beneath the chassis, making last minute adjustments and checking all systems. Pops was making final notations on fuel and tires and Trixie was over at the airfield, fueling her helicopter up and getting last minute weather reports and flight plans. Spritle and Chim Chim were scampering about, their curiosity and excitement levels almost to overdrive. Mom Racer was preparing sports replenishment drinks for the team because she would be at the checkpoint tent to give Speed the necessary replenishments of electrolytes during the race. Everyone was present and accounted for but Speed himself and they were all beginning to worry about where he was.
Pops tapped Sparky's feet as he extracted himself from under the Mach 5. "So where's your soused up buddy this morning? Or will I have to go to the trailer to roust him out of bed?"
Sparky shrugged, "Beats me. He wasn't in his bed when I woke up and got dressed. I thought he was out here."
Pops scowled, "He better be where I think he is." He picked up his headset and spoke into the transmitter. "Trixie? Trixie, it's Pops. Is Speed there with you?"
Trixie's voice came over both the radio of the Mach 5 and Pops' earphones. "No, Pops he isn't. Isn't he there with you?" she asked worriedly.
"No, he hasn't shown up yet. And I need to go over some things with him before the driver's meeting."
"Okay, Pops. If he comes over here, I'll tell him and send him over."
"Good. Oh, and Trixie? Make sure that you keep your radio frequency at Channel 9 for the race, okay?
"It's already set at that, Pops."
Pops grinned, "Atta girl. Over and out."
Pops took off the headset and when he turned he heard everyone gasp as Speed came into the area, looking as if he had spent the night in a dumpster. He looked haggard and worn and he was sporting dark sunglasses to shade his eyes and ease the throbbing in his head. Racer X, who had plied him with black coffee to get him to get up, had roused him and now he was present and trying mentally to get himself to race form. He sat gingerly on the pit stall wall.
Pops snorted in derision. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. How good of you to join us, Mr. Racer."
"Pops, please. Lower the volume, willya? Have a heart," Speed said with a groan.
Pops scowl deepened and he got right into his son's face. "Don't be a baby, Speed! You have no one to blame for this but yourself. So if you're gonna go out and get yourself smashed, zip it up and be a man."
Spritle looked at his older brother with big eyes. "Did you really get smashed last night, Speedy?"
Mom Racer came and retrieved her youngest. "Spritle, leave your brother alone. I need your help with something." She shepherded the protesting youngster away as Speed rose slowly, painfully to his feet.
"I gotta go to the driver's meeting then I gotta talk to Trixie," Speed said slowly as he began to head out but Pops stopped him.
"The race is in less than three hours and the only thing you need to talk to her about is that," he reminded him.
"I know, Pops. That's what I'm gonna talk to her about," Speed assured him as he left in the direction of the garage and the driver's meeting.
Later, after the meeting, Speed was sitting in the cockpit of the Mach 5, still trying to get himself together. He was nervous as he was before every race, but he was also in a quandary as the words from Trixie's letter were imprinted in his mind's eye, taunting him and drawing him into a state of depression. He was less hung over, but his head was still slightly pounding and it added to the gloomy mood he was in. What am I gonna do? If she leaves I'll never see her again, I gotta do something!
Speed's dark thoughts were interrupted by the soft floral scent he knew so well, carried over to his nostrils on the gentle zephyr coming in from the beach nearby. He turned his head and saw the petite form that was the source of the sweet aroma and his heart began to pound. He smiled tentatively as she braced her hands on the side to lean in and speak to him. He looked up at her with a bashful smile.
"Hiya, Trixie. H-how are you today?" he said shyly.
Trixie bit her lip nervously. Coming over to the Mach 5, knowing Speed was there was extremely difficult, and she had been dreading it since she had heard him demand to see her last night at the Racers' suite. She remembered that she had decided to act cool and professional so that's the tact she took.
"Morning, Speed. I'm fine, how are you?"
He shrugged and said quietly. "Okay, I'm feeling better. Guess you know I got wasted last night."
"Oh?" Trixie tried to act disinterested but concern entered her viridian eyes. "I hadn't heard." She cleared her throat. "The reason I came is to tell you that the weather report looks good and the helicopter's ready to go. I'll be transmitting on Channel 9 so make sure that's the channel tuned in on your radio," she said coolly. She turned to leave but Speed grasped her hand to detain her.
"I thought you were planning on leaving."
Trixie stiffened as she answered. "I was but I decided to honor my commitment to Pops and the team for this race. I am not a quitter."
"No, Trix, you aren't. Honey, I need to talk to you," he began but she pulled her hand away. She distanced herself from the car.
"Look, Speed we've got a race to run. Anything you have to say will have to wait till the race is over so I'll talk to you then." She then turned and hurried away before he could say anything else.
Speed watched her leave and marveled at her thinking as always that she was one in a million. Her decision to stick with the team regardless of her own feelings touched him deeply, deeply and more profoundly than anything or anyone else ever did. He sighed, his heart heavy as he recalled her pushing herself away and it brought a cold ache to him. He was wracking his brain as how to talk her and what to say when he did when a sleek yellow vehicle with black lines pulled into the pit stall in front of him. The tall, muscular figure with the familiar black and white mask stepped out of the car and began consulting with his pit crew.
Speed watched Racer X with the same sense of familiarity he often felt when he saw the mysterious man. He always seemed to be around to help just when Speed needed him. Last night, as Speed's desperate state had him beside himself was when Racer X spoke of Speed's duties to his family and his destiny to fulfill as a racer, it was as if his older brother Rex was counseling him. He had even dreamed that Racer X called him "little brother."
Speed closed his eyes and pondered about the events of the last few days. If there was any way he could have screwed things up more, he was hard pressed to find it. There was so much more to racing that getting behind the wheel and he was just beginning to get the gist of it all. He began to wonder if he were really cut out for the whole absurd circus, and thought that maybe Pops had been right all along, for him to go to college, get a degree and get into a career that had a lot less public exposure. Maybe even take up engineering to assist Pops in his car designs for the thought had occurred to him before. He could easily enroll in the local university based on his SAT scores and begin classes in the fall. Or maybe apply to the police academy-he enjoyed the times Inspector Detector had him assist in a case for he had shown an affinity for deductive reasoning and loved the thrill of the chase.
But once again, Racer X's words of the previous night echoed in his head ".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." My destiny Speed mused as he began to truly grasp the concept.
His eyes then fell on his rearview mirror and he saw Phil Pistone was in his car as the Alpha pit crew did their preparations. Speed noticed with some satisfaction that Pistone was sporting a rather mottled bruise on his jaw from the scuffle they had at the PIRATES COVE and that it appeared that the Italian racer had gotten the worst of it. Speed himself had nothing more than a slight scrape on his right arm as he fell on the table when Pistone had gotten the one good shot in he had. But here it was, raceday and there was a new battle on the horizon, one that promised to be just as fierce.
Pistone caught Speed staring at him and gave a mocking salute that became an obscene gesture. Speed scowled but didn't take the bait, preferring to do his fighting on the course and from the atmosphere between himself and the Italian racer it appeared that it was going to make last night's bout seem like a schoolyard scrape. He found himself getting very excited.
It was then it hit Speed, like a bolt out of the blue, that he was doing exactly what he was intended to and always wanted to do. He glanced about and viewed his domain, the pit stall where the scent of exhaust, motor oil, gasoline, and fresh rubber assailed him. The sounds of powerful, turbo- charged mills, nestled in sleek aerodynamically styled bodies built for speed were calling to him, and lastly the view of his own mighty machine, the Mach 5. Speed took in the sight of the steering column with its push buttons, ready to activate the special features that made the Mach 5 the superb example of automotive technological genius it was and then felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him as he got into the game. Yeah, Speedy you're gonna do it he said to himself as he became sharply focused at the task at hand. You're gonna win this race then you're gonna win back the girl of your dreams he determined grimly as he turned the key to hear the siren song of 12 cylinders rumbling beneath his hood. No matter what that reptile Pistone says or does to rattle you, you're gonna beat him. Speed revved the motor, grinning in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Trixie had gotten back to the airfield where several spotting crews for the drivers were making their last preparations before the race. She checked with the air-control desk and getting her final briefing for flight went over to climb aboard the chopper for pre-flight. She was about to enter the craft when a shadowy figure stepped from behind and grabbed her, silencing her screams of surprise and fear with a cloth over her nose and mouth soaked in chloroform. Overcome, she slumped in the arms of her assailant and her limp form was carried to a long dark limousine that waited just outside the area.
Back at the track, Pops and Sparky were hovering around the Mach 5, just as the last 20 minutes before the green flag were ticking away and making final adjustments and fine tuning the vehicle.
Sparky closed the hood of the Mach 5 firmly and wiping his hands on a rag went over to the driver's side and leaned in. "Well buddy, she's all set. Now's time for you to bring it home for Pops Motors."
Speed saluted with a bright smile. "Consider it done, Spark. I'm gonna drive the wheels offa her."
Pops grinned at his son. "Well, Speed it looks like you got yourself ready to get it done. I was worried there for a while. Good job."
Speed's smile faded and he regarded his father earnestly. "Pops, I'm sorry. For everything I've done this week. I promise you, from now on I'm gonna stay on the straight and narrow. I want us to be the best Formula 1 team out there and I'm gonna do everything I can to see to it that we are."
Pops wiped his eyes as he was overcome with emotion. "I love you, son and I'm proud of you no matter how this ends up."
Speed blinked back his own tears. "Thanks Pops, I needed to hear that." The two generations of Racer men clasped hands.
Sparky grinned then with a look of dismay perked up. "Oops, I forgot to tell Trixie something. I'll be right back." He turned to go but Speed called after him.
"Hey, Spark, willya tell her something for me too?" At his request, Sparky studied him quizzically. Speed took a deep breath and continued, "Tell her that I want her to be careful and that after the race I have something important to say to her."
Sparky nodded in understanding. "Done, Speed." He sprinted off for the airfield.
When he got there, Sparky was surprised to see Trixie's helicopter still on the tarmac and no sign of the perky brunette.
"Trix! Hey Trixie where are ya? The race is about to start." He consulted his watch. "C'mon, green flag's gonna drop in ten minutes," Sparky called as he worriedly looked about.
"Maybe she got sick or something," he said aloud to himself, knowing that it wasn't like Trixie to just up and disappear. He again consulted his watch nervously. "Well, I'd better get up there and spot, Speed's about to take off." He jumped in the helicopter, started it, and headed up.
It was finally here, raceday, and the racing teams beat the sun this early morning, already hard at work preparing for the rally. The Go Team was no different, all members diligently doing their jobs to prepare the Mach 5 to go the distance and win. Sparky was beneath the chassis, making last minute adjustments and checking all systems. Pops was making final notations on fuel and tires and Trixie was over at the airfield, fueling her helicopter up and getting last minute weather reports and flight plans. Spritle and Chim Chim were scampering about, their curiosity and excitement levels almost to overdrive. Mom Racer was preparing sports replenishment drinks for the team because she would be at the checkpoint tent to give Speed the necessary replenishments of electrolytes during the race. Everyone was present and accounted for but Speed himself and they were all beginning to worry about where he was.
Pops tapped Sparky's feet as he extracted himself from under the Mach 5. "So where's your soused up buddy this morning? Or will I have to go to the trailer to roust him out of bed?"
Sparky shrugged, "Beats me. He wasn't in his bed when I woke up and got dressed. I thought he was out here."
Pops scowled, "He better be where I think he is." He picked up his headset and spoke into the transmitter. "Trixie? Trixie, it's Pops. Is Speed there with you?"
Trixie's voice came over both the radio of the Mach 5 and Pops' earphones. "No, Pops he isn't. Isn't he there with you?" she asked worriedly.
"No, he hasn't shown up yet. And I need to go over some things with him before the driver's meeting."
"Okay, Pops. If he comes over here, I'll tell him and send him over."
"Good. Oh, and Trixie? Make sure that you keep your radio frequency at Channel 9 for the race, okay?
"It's already set at that, Pops."
Pops grinned, "Atta girl. Over and out."
Pops took off the headset and when he turned he heard everyone gasp as Speed came into the area, looking as if he had spent the night in a dumpster. He looked haggard and worn and he was sporting dark sunglasses to shade his eyes and ease the throbbing in his head. Racer X, who had plied him with black coffee to get him to get up, had roused him and now he was present and trying mentally to get himself to race form. He sat gingerly on the pit stall wall.
Pops snorted in derision. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. How good of you to join us, Mr. Racer."
"Pops, please. Lower the volume, willya? Have a heart," Speed said with a groan.
Pops scowl deepened and he got right into his son's face. "Don't be a baby, Speed! You have no one to blame for this but yourself. So if you're gonna go out and get yourself smashed, zip it up and be a man."
Spritle looked at his older brother with big eyes. "Did you really get smashed last night, Speedy?"
Mom Racer came and retrieved her youngest. "Spritle, leave your brother alone. I need your help with something." She shepherded the protesting youngster away as Speed rose slowly, painfully to his feet.
"I gotta go to the driver's meeting then I gotta talk to Trixie," Speed said slowly as he began to head out but Pops stopped him.
"The race is in less than three hours and the only thing you need to talk to her about is that," he reminded him.
"I know, Pops. That's what I'm gonna talk to her about," Speed assured him as he left in the direction of the garage and the driver's meeting.
Later, after the meeting, Speed was sitting in the cockpit of the Mach 5, still trying to get himself together. He was nervous as he was before every race, but he was also in a quandary as the words from Trixie's letter were imprinted in his mind's eye, taunting him and drawing him into a state of depression. He was less hung over, but his head was still slightly pounding and it added to the gloomy mood he was in. What am I gonna do? If she leaves I'll never see her again, I gotta do something!
Speed's dark thoughts were interrupted by the soft floral scent he knew so well, carried over to his nostrils on the gentle zephyr coming in from the beach nearby. He turned his head and saw the petite form that was the source of the sweet aroma and his heart began to pound. He smiled tentatively as she braced her hands on the side to lean in and speak to him. He looked up at her with a bashful smile.
"Hiya, Trixie. H-how are you today?" he said shyly.
Trixie bit her lip nervously. Coming over to the Mach 5, knowing Speed was there was extremely difficult, and she had been dreading it since she had heard him demand to see her last night at the Racers' suite. She remembered that she had decided to act cool and professional so that's the tact she took.
"Morning, Speed. I'm fine, how are you?"
He shrugged and said quietly. "Okay, I'm feeling better. Guess you know I got wasted last night."
"Oh?" Trixie tried to act disinterested but concern entered her viridian eyes. "I hadn't heard." She cleared her throat. "The reason I came is to tell you that the weather report looks good and the helicopter's ready to go. I'll be transmitting on Channel 9 so make sure that's the channel tuned in on your radio," she said coolly. She turned to leave but Speed grasped her hand to detain her.
"I thought you were planning on leaving."
Trixie stiffened as she answered. "I was but I decided to honor my commitment to Pops and the team for this race. I am not a quitter."
"No, Trix, you aren't. Honey, I need to talk to you," he began but she pulled her hand away. She distanced herself from the car.
"Look, Speed we've got a race to run. Anything you have to say will have to wait till the race is over so I'll talk to you then." She then turned and hurried away before he could say anything else.
Speed watched her leave and marveled at her thinking as always that she was one in a million. Her decision to stick with the team regardless of her own feelings touched him deeply, deeply and more profoundly than anything or anyone else ever did. He sighed, his heart heavy as he recalled her pushing herself away and it brought a cold ache to him. He was wracking his brain as how to talk her and what to say when he did when a sleek yellow vehicle with black lines pulled into the pit stall in front of him. The tall, muscular figure with the familiar black and white mask stepped out of the car and began consulting with his pit crew.
Speed watched Racer X with the same sense of familiarity he often felt when he saw the mysterious man. He always seemed to be around to help just when Speed needed him. Last night, as Speed's desperate state had him beside himself was when Racer X spoke of Speed's duties to his family and his destiny to fulfill as a racer, it was as if his older brother Rex was counseling him. He had even dreamed that Racer X called him "little brother."
Speed closed his eyes and pondered about the events of the last few days. If there was any way he could have screwed things up more, he was hard pressed to find it. There was so much more to racing that getting behind the wheel and he was just beginning to get the gist of it all. He began to wonder if he were really cut out for the whole absurd circus, and thought that maybe Pops had been right all along, for him to go to college, get a degree and get into a career that had a lot less public exposure. Maybe even take up engineering to assist Pops in his car designs for the thought had occurred to him before. He could easily enroll in the local university based on his SAT scores and begin classes in the fall. Or maybe apply to the police academy-he enjoyed the times Inspector Detector had him assist in a case for he had shown an affinity for deductive reasoning and loved the thrill of the chase.
But once again, Racer X's words of the previous night echoed in his head ".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." My destiny Speed mused as he began to truly grasp the concept.
His eyes then fell on his rearview mirror and he saw Phil Pistone was in his car as the Alpha pit crew did their preparations. Speed noticed with some satisfaction that Pistone was sporting a rather mottled bruise on his jaw from the scuffle they had at the PIRATES COVE and that it appeared that the Italian racer had gotten the worst of it. Speed himself had nothing more than a slight scrape on his right arm as he fell on the table when Pistone had gotten the one good shot in he had. But here it was, raceday and there was a new battle on the horizon, one that promised to be just as fierce.
Pistone caught Speed staring at him and gave a mocking salute that became an obscene gesture. Speed scowled but didn't take the bait, preferring to do his fighting on the course and from the atmosphere between himself and the Italian racer it appeared that it was going to make last night's bout seem like a schoolyard scrape. He found himself getting very excited.
It was then it hit Speed, like a bolt out of the blue, that he was doing exactly what he was intended to and always wanted to do. He glanced about and viewed his domain, the pit stall where the scent of exhaust, motor oil, gasoline, and fresh rubber assailed him. The sounds of powerful, turbo- charged mills, nestled in sleek aerodynamically styled bodies built for speed were calling to him, and lastly the view of his own mighty machine, the Mach 5. Speed took in the sight of the steering column with its push buttons, ready to activate the special features that made the Mach 5 the superb example of automotive technological genius it was and then felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him as he got into the game. Yeah, Speedy you're gonna do it he said to himself as he became sharply focused at the task at hand. You're gonna win this race then you're gonna win back the girl of your dreams he determined grimly as he turned the key to hear the siren song of 12 cylinders rumbling beneath his hood. No matter what that reptile Pistone says or does to rattle you, you're gonna beat him. Speed revved the motor, grinning in anticipation.
Meanwhile, Trixie had gotten back to the airfield where several spotting crews for the drivers were making their last preparations before the race. She checked with the air-control desk and getting her final briefing for flight went over to climb aboard the chopper for pre-flight. She was about to enter the craft when a shadowy figure stepped from behind and grabbed her, silencing her screams of surprise and fear with a cloth over her nose and mouth soaked in chloroform. Overcome, she slumped in the arms of her assailant and her limp form was carried to a long dark limousine that waited just outside the area.
Back at the track, Pops and Sparky were hovering around the Mach 5, just as the last 20 minutes before the green flag were ticking away and making final adjustments and fine tuning the vehicle.
Sparky closed the hood of the Mach 5 firmly and wiping his hands on a rag went over to the driver's side and leaned in. "Well buddy, she's all set. Now's time for you to bring it home for Pops Motors."
Speed saluted with a bright smile. "Consider it done, Spark. I'm gonna drive the wheels offa her."
Pops grinned at his son. "Well, Speed it looks like you got yourself ready to get it done. I was worried there for a while. Good job."
Speed's smile faded and he regarded his father earnestly. "Pops, I'm sorry. For everything I've done this week. I promise you, from now on I'm gonna stay on the straight and narrow. I want us to be the best Formula 1 team out there and I'm gonna do everything I can to see to it that we are."
Pops wiped his eyes as he was overcome with emotion. "I love you, son and I'm proud of you no matter how this ends up."
Speed blinked back his own tears. "Thanks Pops, I needed to hear that." The two generations of Racer men clasped hands.
Sparky grinned then with a look of dismay perked up. "Oops, I forgot to tell Trixie something. I'll be right back." He turned to go but Speed called after him.
"Hey, Spark, willya tell her something for me too?" At his request, Sparky studied him quizzically. Speed took a deep breath and continued, "Tell her that I want her to be careful and that after the race I have something important to say to her."
Sparky nodded in understanding. "Done, Speed." He sprinted off for the airfield.
When he got there, Sparky was surprised to see Trixie's helicopter still on the tarmac and no sign of the perky brunette.
"Trix! Hey Trixie where are ya? The race is about to start." He consulted his watch. "C'mon, green flag's gonna drop in ten minutes," Sparky called as he worriedly looked about.
"Maybe she got sick or something," he said aloud to himself, knowing that it wasn't like Trixie to just up and disappear. He again consulted his watch nervously. "Well, I'd better get up there and spot, Speed's about to take off." He jumped in the helicopter, started it, and headed up.