The sound of metal clanging against asphalt was drowned out among the general noise in the garage area. Drivers chatted either about the race or their plans for the rest of the day now that it was over. Some argued about aggressive moves or contact made during the short race. Meanwhile cars were loaded onto trailers. It was all so noisy and hectic that that the sound of a single tool being dropped wasn't even noticeable
The source of the racket was one of the drivers. Despite the fact that this particular driver had won the day's race his face showed no signs of the smile that would be expected from the victor.
Instead he sat on the asphalt next to the fender of his car lightly sucking on a small wound on his finger and silently muttering frustrated curses. Next to him sat a tire iron, the cause of the unpleasant chime. As he took his finger out of his lips and wiped it off on his shirt he took a look around the paddock. Most of the other cars were loaded up already. Even the solo drivers who didn't have any help were almost loading their cars onto the flatbeds. Everyone but him was either leaving already or were all but ready to leave.
Link let out an envious sigh. If only he had a trailer then maybe he could have been on his way home by now. He looked on in jealousy before remembering that even if he had a trailer he lacked a second vehicle to tow it.
Feeling a surge of frustration he tried to turn his attention back to focus on the task at hand, changing the tires on his car. Driving his race car home meant changing off the racing slicks for treaded street tires. He could try driving home on the race tires but he knew he could ill afford to slide off the road if rain came.
He needed this car to drive to work tomorrow after all.
Picking the tire iron back up he placed it on a lug nut and pulled with all his might. As he grunted in exertion he felt the lug start to slip little by little. That was until the friction holding it in place gave all at once. Suddenly without the resistance on the tire iron Link's weight went tumbling backwards, landing on his rear. The tire iron fell to the pavement once again, drowning out the angrily yelled expletives coming from Link's mouth.
The process was as slow and frustrating as it always was. Even the excitement and joy from his victory had faded under the tedium as he struggled with each lug nut on all four wheels. But one by one the wheels came off and were replaced with ones which had street tires fitted. A half hour later when he finally tightened the final nut securing the last wheel he found himself alone in the garage. He wanted to chuck the tire iron into the car out of frustration. Only the presence of the small trophy in the passenger seat stopped him mid swing from throwing it.
Instead he merely tossed the tool aside since there was no longer anybody around to be bothered by the noise. At least the hard part was done. Now all he needed to do was attach the tire rack to the trunk of the car and tie down the racing wheels for transport. He set to work hoping to get these last few steps done as quickly as he could. If he wanted to get home and get enough sleep for work tomorrow he would need to be fast about it.
He had barely had time to pick up the tire rack before he was interrupted.
"Having trouble with something young man?"
Link was fairly certain that everybody else had already left. He turned around to look for the newcomer only to have to look down. The sight that sat before Link was odd to say the least.
The woman was still shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit garage area but there were still a few features he could make out. She was old, very much so from what he could see. Her face was covered in heavy wrinkled lines, and her back was hunched over as she supported her weight with a small walking cane. Short strands of braided hair came hung down on either side of her head from a red cap.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, is there something I can help you with? I'm kind of busy at the moment." Link gestured to the car behind him and the unsecured tire rack that sat on the trunk.
"You had quite the performance out there today. It's been a while since I've seen somebody drive quite like that." The old woman said. Link figured that she either has not heard his question or quite possibly was ignoring it. It was flattering to hear her praise his driving ability but he felt a surge of frustration nonetheless. He needed to get his tires tied down and hit the road if he was going to get any reasonable amount of sleep before work tomorrow. He didn't have time to chat with this woman.
"Thank you very much Ma'am. I appreciate it but I really got to finish packing up so I can leave." He scratched the back of his head, feeling a bit bad at brushing the old woman off but hoping that she would get his hint nonetheless. The woman stepped forward into the light Link had been toiling under allowing him to see her face clearly for the first time. Her skin was wrinkled with age but not as much as it had first appeared. As Link looked closer he could see that some of the lines were not from age but from burn scars. Most of them were on the side of her face where they were partially blocked by the woman's hair although it did not seem that was the purpose of the braided locks.
She found a seat on one of Link's discarded tires, crossing her legs in such a fashion that Link thought she might start to meditate. "Take a seat." She spoke her command softly, gesturing towards the ground
Link let out a frustrated sigh. He needed to finish packing up so he could leave but he found that he did not have the nerve to turn this woman away so directly, even if she was obviously unconcerned with schedule. Lowering himself onto the ground he tried to make himself comfortable on the asphalt with his back against his car's door. He tried to cross his legs like the Sheikah woman had but quickly found it more comfortable just to let them stretch out in front of him.
"I do have to say though you were a bit reckless at times." The woman said, gesturing towards the dented fenders and scratched bumpers on either end of the car.
"One would think that a driver would take care of their car if it was their only way home."
"How did you know that?" Link shot back defensively. What she was saying wasn't wrong but he didn't like to talk about his shortage of proper equipment. The old woman merely let out a laugh.
"Most people who go racing with these things don't keep licence plates on their cars. And normally they would also take out the passenger seat as well to save weight." Link grimaced at her words. It was obvious to anybody who knew what to look for that what she was saying was true. After all if he had another car he would have been out of here already and wouldn't be talking to this strange woman at all.
"Well yeah I need this to get home but…." Link paused as he struggled to think of how to excuse his recklessness. "...Well It's a race. I needed to pass the other drivers if I wanted to win. That's kind of the whole point."
The old woman laughed, "I know well what the purpose of racing is young man. What I'm more curious about is why someone is beating up their own personal vehicle on the race track." She tapped the wheel of Link's car with her cane for emphasis. Link scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. She wasn't wrong nor was she saying anything he was not already well aware of.
He had known that it was a risk ever since he had welded the roll cage onto his street car. It was never supposed to be raced as long as he had. He had hoped a few races would be all that would be necessary before getting the chance to drive something he didn't also need to pay the repair bills for. But as the years had gone on and his career had stalled before even getting off the line that dream had faded until there was little left. And yet even with the knowledge that there was no new ride coming he could not bring himself to do the rational thing and stop putting his only means of transportation at risk.
The fact that it was still in driving condition at all was a testament to luck as much as anything else. Even as good as Link liked to think he was he knew that even he made mistakes and not everything would be in his control. His car's days would come to an end eventually, be it from an error on his part, a mechanical failure he could not fix, or some other driver who was even more reckless than him.
And with his wages he knew that it's replacement would likely be a bus pass than anything he could take back to the track.
"What else am I supposed to race?" Link asked the woman with a shrug, "This is all I have and that's not about to change anytime soon."
"Perhaps it does not have to be."
For the first time in the conversation Link felt his interest peak. He looked back to the woman and wondered if he had misjudged her. He had not actually thought about what the elderly looking Sheikah might want from him. He certainly had not envisioned the conversation taking this turn. He felt a tinge of hope rising in his chest but did not dare endulge the feeling so soon lest he be let down.
"I'm listening."
"I won't lie young man. You're good. Reckless but good." She paused to scold him with her walking cane, "If you could keep your head on your shoulder you might just be suited for a career as a driver."
"And are you saying this just to be nice or do you actually have a way to help with that?" Link replied.
"Patience young man. It is one of the skills that seperates a good driver from a great racer."
His desire for the woman to get to whatever her point was had replaced his urgency to start his journey home. He was far too curious to just pack up and leave now. He found himself leaning forward as he waited for the Sheikah woman to continue.
"Tell me why do you race?"
Link paused unsure of how to answer. Was it the excitement? That was surely part of it. Was it the hope of achieving glory, fortune and fame? He couldn't deny that he had fantasized about those things more than a few times. Although if that had been what drove him then he would have quit long ago rather than face financial trouble. After a moment of quiet Link finally spoke up to answer.
"It's just…. It's all I've ever wanted to do." He gave a shrug, "I love the challenge. The feeling of pushing the car to the limit and keeping it right on the edge of control, all while inches away from some other car as we battle for every inch..." Link trailed off, unsure of how to describe the feeling. However a look to the Sheikah woman sitting across from him showed a knowing smile. "I've just never found anything else quite like it."
"So you're the competitive sort then? That would explain the aggression I saw out of you on the track today." The woman eyed him up under the brim of her hat before adding under her breath, "And it would probably explain more than a few of the dents in your car as well."
Link chuckled, finding himself growing somewhat endeared to the short old sheikah. "What can I say? I've raced enough to know that I'm not a fan of losing." He shook his head. "Second sucks." The blunt addition to his statement earned a raised eyebrow from the woman.
"As good as you were out there I doubt you've managed to win every race you started."
"Obviously not." Link replied with a wave of his hand. "But a bad day at the track is better than a good day almost anywhere else but I'm here to win. I don't like to settle or think I left anything on the track."
"And yet despite that competitive drive you're here at a tiny club event racing for what?" She looked down at the worn out tire she was sitting on and gave it a firm pat, "I hope however much you won it was at least enough money to replace these things."
Link flinched. She was not wrong. In fact her words were uncomfortably true. As hard as he had tried over the years he had made practically no progress. He had made no starts in any major or even junior series. Nobody had even ever asked him to test their car before. At this point the only thing that was keeping his racing career, and it would be charitable to even call this obsessive hobby a career, alive was the fact that he was pouring what little personal money he had into it. He was one bad wreck or part failure away from being dead in the water.
"Every team owner I've ever talked to seemed more concerned with money than ability." Link shook his head. "Maybe they're just being polite about thinking I'm not that good but they always want to know if I can bring a sponsor to the team."
"And have you ever had the money?"
"If I did I sure as hell wouldn't be here." He waved his hand out, "I'd be out there somewhere trying to make a name for myself. Trying to win races that mattered and get championships."
"So if you had a chance to drive in a race that mattered, say…. the Hateno 500, would you take it?" Link paused at the woman's question. Was she being serious? Because it almost sounded like she had a chance to offer him. Thinking back on the conversation he realized that without him noticing it had become almost like a job interview. He winced in embarrassment at missing the overtone.
At least she hadn't asked him what his greatest weakness was.
Regaining his composure he looked the elerly Sheikah right in the eye and spoke the words that came naturally to him.
"In a heartbeat. Hateno is…." He let out a yearning filled sigh. "Well I've always wanted to go there."
A moment of silence passed as the Sheikah looked Link up and down, seemingly in deep thought. Link felt a tinge of hope but dare not let himself believe it. Just as he could stand the silence not a moment longer the Sheikah woman finally spoke up.
"Next weeked there is going to be a test session." She pulled a business card from her shirt pocket, scribbling a note on the back. "Show up at ten and not a moment later. I can't make any promises but if you're on pace by the end of the session there just might be a racing seat in it for you."
She stood from her seat on the used tire and stepped up to Link to hand him the card. Link could hardly believe it as he read the address and date on the back. He finally had a shot. After years of trying this could finally be his big break. It took him a moment to actually comprehend what he had just been told. When he finally accepted that the in his hand and the woman who gave it to him were real he had to tear his attention away.
"Thank you so much I won't…" He trailed off when he noticed the woman was not standing where she had been a moment ago. Jumping to his feet he looked around the garage but could not find the Sheikah. For a moment he began to doubt whether the whole conversation had actually happened before he remembered that proof was in his hand. Taking one more look at the card he read the words on the front.
"Impa Sage… Silent Princess Engineering." He searched his mind. He recalled hearing that team name before but could remember little about it. "Whoever you are… Thank you. I won't let you down."
The card went into his pocket as Link returned to his preparations to leave. The hurry was gone from his labor however. What did it matter when he got home tonight? With his pounding heart and gleeful excitement he knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep either way.
Whoo another chapter! Once again thank you so much for reading and a special thanks to those who left comments and reviews.
Also remember how last chapter I encouraged you all to watch the real life races taking place this weekend? Well apparently I jinxed things even harder than usual and both events I mentioned have been canceled and their series postponed for the time being for reasons that I'm sure will be obvious.
So I'll be writing this to help fill a racing shaped hole in my heart for the next few weeks. Stay safe and healthy everybody, I wish you the best.