It was after noon when the track exit came into view. Mark took the exit and followed the road. Soon they were pulling up to the back gate of the track. The track owner came out of the building. She thought the car looked familiar, "Can I help you?"
Though Mark hadn't raced in several years and it had even been longer since he had run with a team, he had been to a lot of tracks including this one. He was pleased to see the older woman he recognized as the track owner coming to the car. "Bonnie. How are you? Has Johnson Racing gotten here yet?"
No matter what track or which class, there were several Johnson teams. She checked her clipboard. "I've got three Johnson Racing teams coming in, but only one scheduled in today. No, they aren't here yet." She was studying the young man. He was very familiar, yet she couldn't place him.
Mark wasn't sure how Barbara would list the team, and not remembering the whole conversation wasn't helping.
"I'm not sure how it will be listed. What do you have down?" Mark said. He didn't want to blow Barbara's surprise if he could help it.
Bonnie replied, "I've got Mack Johnson, Jesse Johnson and a..." she paused. She hadn't signed this one in before, "A FBM Johnson. That's the one due in this afternoon."
"That one has to be the one." Though Mark wasn't sure where she'd come up with the 'FBM'.
"Okay, I've got it. Just says 'FBM Johnson Racing'. Looks like they have spots 50 and 51 up behind turn three. One Modified and one Late model."
Mark smiled. "I know the spaces." He knew the woman was a bit flustered as always when hosting a big race due to trying to do ten jobs alone and do them well. But, he had to jog her memory, "Well, this is the Modified. The car haulers and others should be here soon. Bonnie, you don't remember me. Do you?"
For the life of her she could not place the man. "You are real familiar."
"I drove for Flip Johnson. Mark McCormick." he explained.
"Skid?" she looked "No, way! With Flip gone, ... Who?"
Mark cut her off, "Yes, Skid. Never mind who. The trucks should be pulling in soon. Do you have me down?"
Now even more flustered she rechecked her list of drivers. "Yes. No wonder I didn't pay attention. You are listed as Mark McCormick. Go on up. I'll be by later. It shows here overnight for both spaces, so I'm sure I'll see more of you."
"Thanks, Bonnie. Oh, how's the track? Any chance of getting a few laps in before everyone else shows up?" He put the McCormick charm on full.
"With no rain, it's gonna be dusty. Hasn't been worked yet since last week, and it probably has some rough spots in it, but go ahead. I'll have to come up and open the gate," she said.
Mark waved his hand. "I can get that. You got anyone with a radio that can flag in case you get someone in needing to cross the track?"
"Yeah, I think I can find someone. Just don't expect this to be a 'real' flagger," she explained.
"As long as they can let me know someone needs across the track. Thanks, Bonnie." Mark pulled out, heading toward the spots Bonnie had directed him to. "Gonna watch or ride?" he asked Hardcastle.
"Watch," the Judge said automatically.
"Your loss." As Mark drove slowly around the outside of the track, he realized how little the place had changed. "Judge, this place hasn't changed. I'm beginning to get worried."
"Worried? About what?" Hardcastle grumbled.
Mark replied, "Not about the cars or the race. I mean about the skeletons that might turn up this weekend."
Hardcastle wasn't following.
"I was thinking more along the lines of drivers, pit crews." He sighed, "Okay, so I was really thinking, ... Judge, do you have any idea how many girls I met at race tracks?"
Hardcastle frowned, "Spare me the details."
Mark shrugged his shoulders, "Okay, but I warned you."
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Mark pulled around to the gate at the edge of turn four. From this location the whole track could be seen.
Hardcastle had never been to this track with Mark, so he was taking in the lay out of the place.
Mark got out, stretched from the drive. Bending down, he looked at Milt. "Change your mind?" He walked over and opened the track gate. By the time he got back to the car, Hardcastle was getting out.
"No. Riding with you on the road is bad enough," Hardcastle said gruffly.
Mark smiled. "Okay, so how about shutting the gate behind me?" He only planned to check out the track. He knew that other racing teams would be coming in, and most of the smaller teams parked in the infield, so they would have to cross the track just before turn one, which is why he requested a flagger. Getting back in the car Mark only used the normal seat belt. He would put his racing harness in once the car haulers got there. He thought about getting out his helmet, but decided he didn't need it for what he intended to do. After being under the stresses of school and preparing for the Bar Exam, he just really wanted to feel the wind in his hair on the track for a bit, let off a little steam, and get psyched up mentally for this weekend. He knew racing and winning was an attitude. He needed to be in the right mind set for this. Looking up, he saw a young girl who looked to be about twenty, in short shorts and a tank top walk out onto the flag stand. She turned on the track lights in turns one and three and promptly displayed the yellow light and a yellow caution flag. Mark smiled. Bonnie might not let her flag a race, but she looked like she knew what she was doing. He eased the Coyote onto the track. After Bonnie's warning of rough spots, he wanted to take a couple of slow laps and find them to avoid breaking something. After two laps, the lights and flag turned to green. Mark eased down on the gas pedal a little harder. With each lap, he progressively got quicker. The track was in good condition to not have been worked in a week. He decided to open up the Coyote and let him run a couple laps.
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Hardcastle was standing at the fence watching Mark. He was like a kid in a candy store. The sound of just the Coyote was deafening as Mark opened it up. Hardcastle had seen a couple of car carriers come in, but wasn't paying much attention until someone tapped him on his shoulder.
Barbara Johnson stood beside him; speaking loud enough to be heard, she said, "He couldn't stand waiting?"
"You know the kid, can't sit still," Hardcastle replied.
"Man, the Coyote looks great out there! I've missed this so much it's not funny. Guess that's what I get tagging along behind my father all those years."
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Coming down the back stretch as he made his third lap around the track, after he'd opened him up, Mark saw the green light switch to yellow. He let off the gas and began to slow down. In turn four he could see a race rig at the top of the road in turn one, waiting to cross the track. Seeing that it was stopped, he continued around the track again to turn three where he slowed down to almost a crawl, he swung wide and waited.
Barbara saw what he was doing, "He's coming off." She hurried to open the gate to let Mark off the track.
Hardcastle looked on as the two friends greeted each other. It was hard to believe that standing before him was two, he hoped, attorneys. One who had once convinced the other to steal back the car that Mark had just driven off the track. Hardcastle had liked Barbara ever since he'd first met her. McCormick wasn't at all happy about his situation, and asked him if anyone liked him. He'd answered that he hoped not. Well, Barbara had spoken up and said she did. That had done it for Hardcastle; she was Okay, and then he found out she was going to go to law school.
After a big hug and a brief kiss, Mark turned around to see two very familiar car carriers attached to two very familiar 18 wheelers, though the Johnson Racing logo wasn't on either car carrier. "You kept the trucks?"
Barbara smiled, "Yeah! Been planning this revenge for a long time!"
"You had the Johnson logo taken off the trailers?" Mark asked.
She shook her head,no, "I had four very large white magnets made to cover the logo until we decide when to take them off."
Mark looked at her with approval and nodded. "Okay. Gotcha. So when do I get to see this new beauty?"
"Oh, how about now? I'd like to keep it in the trailer as long as we can, though, can't be to careful after the Coyote incident," she reminded.
"Don't remind me, but you're right. Since when did Bonnie get a sanctioned race here? This has aways been a pretty small time track." Mark asked.
Barbara began talking as they walked to the car carrier. "Well, it seems they have put in a fairly decent drag strip over there, " she said, pointing toward the top of the other hill, walking distance from where they were now. "This weekend is going to be the first weekend that both tracks are open and have races scheduled all weekend at both tracks, between qualifying, heat races and feature races."
"Come on, Judge." Mark said as he nodded toward the car carrier. "We'll have to go check out the drag strip, later. Your dad and I pretty much stuck to dirt racing, but I've been known to cut a pretty quick light."
Barbara smiled, "I bet you have! Let's go in the side door."
Mark opened the side door and instinctively knew where the light was in the trailer. Before him was a late model car the likes of which he'd never seen. He didn't say a word. He began to walk around the car very slowly, taking in every detail. The red looked about the same red as on the Coyote Though it had no headlights, since it was strictly for the track, it looked like it had head lights which were shaped like the Coyote's. The front spoiler was lower and round where the Coyote's was more square. Its wide low body style was definitively a late model car and definitively not another Coyote. The back fin was typical of a late model, and would deflect the wind. Painted onto the fin was "FBM Johnson Racing". As Mark went to the driver side of the car, he was running his hand up the smooth body of the car, when he saw it. Above the driver's window read, "Mark "SKID" McCormick". Mark looked at Barbara and choked out, "How'd you know I'd drive?"
She smiled, "I knew!" Becoming choked up herself, she whispered, "Besides, that's the way it was in Dad's drawings. Every detail is just like he had drawn it, with one addition other than the changed name of the team." She ran her hand above the passenger side window. It read, " Co-Pilot "Flip" Johnson ".
Both Mark and Barbara stood silently for several minutes looking at each other.
Hardcastle was watching the two of them. He'd never seen people act like this over a machine. Finally, it was he who broke the silence, "So, Hotshot, when are you taking it out on the track?"
It took a second or two for Hardcastle's words to find him, then he said, "Not until that track is worked, that's for sure. I think you're right, Barbara. This thing needs to stay right here until we're ready to run it." Mark was almost drooling. "But, can I start it?" He almost begged.
Barbara and Hardcastle nearly fell to the floor laughing at the grown man before them.
"I was wondering what you were waiting on!" she said still laughing.
Mark was through the window in a split second and had the awesome car started and purring like a huge lion.
Inside the trailer you couldn't hear yourself think. Barbara tapped Hardcastle on the shoulder and they walked outside.
"You sure knew how to get his mind off the Bar Exam!" Hardcastle said.
She smiled, "It was just luck that it worked out that way, timing wise. How has he been about it?"
"Well, you talked to him the night of the test," Hardcastle stated.
She nodded, "What, ... was, ... he drinking? I've never known him to drink more than a beer or two."
Hardcastle explained, "You're right. Usually he doesn't, but that night he said he needed a vacation from thinking. He was drinking tequila."
"Oh, man. He was bad." Barbara referred to him being highly intoxicated.
Hardcastle shook his head, no, "You talked to him EARLY!"
Shocked, Barbara asked, "Early?"
"Yeah. He was worse by the time he emptied the bottle." Hardcastle declared.
"The whole bottle? Alone?" she asked.
Hardcastle said, "No, not quite, but pretty much. I had, I think, two drinks with him, and there was maybe another shot in the bottle when I followed him to the gatehouse."
"And he remembered talking to me?" she asked. surprised.
"After I reminded him of it," he said as they heard Mark shut down the car, which he'd only let run a couple short minutes so the exhaust fumes wouldn't build up too much in the closed in area.
Barbara laughed at the thought of Mark having to be reminded of a race.
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