Coming Up Short
Speed suggested to me the morning of Brittlerock that we wait after the race to call the CIB about my father and Gizmo.
"After the race?!" I asked. "Do you know how many things could happen during the race?"
"Trixie, there's no time," he said. "The race is this afternoon, and no doubt they'll want Gizmo right away." I understood his reasoning, but it didn't change the fact that I needed that hunk of metal at the CIB as soon as possible. I frowned, turned, and went out the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To make time," I replied. I galloped down the steps to the Mach 5, leaned over the passenger door, reached to the steering wheel and pressed the G button. Gizmo floated into the air. Before he could get too far over my head, I grabbed him and said, "Come on, little guy, you're coming with me."
I pulled Inspector Detector's business card out of my pocket and picked up the phone, "Hello, Chief Inspector? It's Trixie Shimura. You may not remember me … I'm Speed Racer's spotter…"
"Yes, Trixie," he said. "Of course I remember you."
"I trust you've heard Shimura Motors—my father's company—has bought out Rival Industries under what seem to be … unsavory circumstances," I stated. "I think I have something of interest to the CIB and I'll be bringing it down to headquarters momentarily."
"But don't you…?"
"Have a nice day, Chief Inspector, I'll see you soon." I hung up the phone, not even giving him a chance to bid me goodbye.
"Wait…" I said to myself. "I don't have a street car!" The TRX-1 was a T-180, not made for regular driving, and I wasn't like I could walk.
"Times like this I wish I hadn't given up that Mercedes," I moaned. I looked around the room for a solution; then my eyes fell upon the Mach 5. I grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
The family went down to breakfast about a half an hour later (or so Speed told me).
"Where is Trixie?" asked Mom.
"I'm not sure," Speed replied. "I haven't seen her since earlier this morning."
"Oh, I do hope she's okay," she said. They crowded around the kitchen table. The seat beside Speed where I usually sat stayed empty.
Only after Mom put waffles on everyone's plate did she look to the living room and say, "Something's different." The men turned around. Pops stared at the empty parking spot of the Mach 5, stood up, and walked over to it. The rest of the family followed.
"Where's the—where's the car, where's the car, WHERE'S THE CAR!!?" Pops screamed.
Speed found a small white piece of paper on the floor and picked it up.
"Sorry, be back before the race, xxx," it read. Speed chuckled.
"How can you laugh at this?!" yelled Pops. Speed pocketed the note and said, "Don't sweat it, Pops, the Mach 5's fine."
I had driven the Mach 5 plenty of times, but this was the first time I didn't have Speed in the passenger seat yelling stuff like, "Red light, red light, RED LIGHT!!!" or "Trixie, the speed limit is 35; you're going 80!!"
I wasn't sure how fast I was going, but it wasn't like any cops were going to stop the Mach 5 anyway. The wind flew through my hair as I sped through the streets, and with a polka dot scarf wrapped around my head, sunglasses, and white gloves on my little hands, I imagine I looked rather like one of those 50's girls going on a forbidden drive in their father's precious Corvette.
When I stopped, I glanced in the side mirror, flattened my hair out, opened the door, pulled off my gloves, took the keys, grabbed Gizmo, closed the cockpit, and went to the building.
"Is that the Mach 5?" asked a security guard.
"It can't be; does that look like Speed Racer to you?!" asked the other. They looked utterly alike, and had no name tags. That was one thing I hated about security guards. Since when are they so important that you don't need to know their name?
They looked down at me, finally realizing I was there, "And who are you, missy?"
"Missy?" I whispered. "I'm Patricia Shimura. Inspector Detector is expecting me." They looked at each other incredulously, glanced at me, and then to the car.
"It's my boyfriend's car," I said. "You know … Speed Racer …"
They continued to stare at me. It wasn't enough that they weren't going to let me in when I only had so much time to spare, they were going to accuse me of stealing the Mach 5!
Technically, you did, I thought.
No I didn't, I combated with. I'm returning it, so it's borrowing … I just didn't ask him first.
I looked through the glass doors of CIB headquarters. I couldn't see Inspector Detector. Great, I thought. How do I get past these bozos?
"Oh!" I said suddenly. "Wait!" I dug into my pocket and took out my driver's license. I handed it to security guard number one and said, "See that! That's me!"
He inspected it and, seeing my face uncovered in the picture, asked, "Are you the Patricia Shimura? Trixie Shimura? The racecar driver?"
"Yes!" I said. "Yes! That's me! I'm Trixie! With the TRX-1!" I pulled off my scarf and sunglasses, "See?"
"Right this way, Miss," he said, handing me back my license. They respected me so much now; they'd dropped the 'y' off 'missy.'"
"Trixie!" said a voice. Inspector Detector stared at me, bewildered. In his strange, seemingly German mixed with Russian, accent, he confessed, "I didn't really expect to see you. Aren't you competing in the Brittlerock race today?"
"I have plenty of time before that," I said. "And I felt this couldn't wait."
"You look well," he said. "Have you been questioned about Kirikala yet?"
"No," I replied. "Not that I know anything worth noting. He was there one minute, the next …" I stopped, shook my head, held out Gizmo, and said, "Can we just run this up to Minx, please?"
Minx was a lovely African-American scientist. She had put all the extra features in the Mach 5 before Casa Cristo. She was hardly ever seen out of the company of Racer X and she, too, had a strange dialect. She sounded like a person who lived the latter half of their life in England before returning to America, and now their voice didn't sound exactly like either.
"Straight away," he replied. He reached to take the little robot from me.
"I'd like to do it myself," I said, tightening my grip on the bird.
"Fine," he nodded. I jogged beside him up a few extensively long staircases.
"Inspector, if I may ask," I began. "Does the CIB suspect Jack Rival of any wrongdoing?"
"We've been after Rival for years, but he's not the type to leave a paper trail."
"Do you suspect him to have anything to do with Kirikala?" I asked.
"That is confidential," he answered. "I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you that."
"What about my father?" I added.
"Your…?"
"Inspector, please tell me," I begged. "Does the CIB have any reason to suspect my father, Mike Shimura, of illicit activity?"
"Trixie…" he said quietly.
I stopped walking.
"You do, don't you?" I asked. "What?"
"Trixie…" he repeated.
"Tell me what he's done!" I screamed.
"Your father didn't retire from the WRL," said the Inspector. "He was dismissed for dealing with fixers. Including…"
What he'd just said made my mouth drop, but the next two words made me want to cry.
"…Blackjack Bernelli."
"Blackjack—Blackjack," I moaned. "That's the—the one they say … He killed Speed's brother!! Why didn't anyone tell me this before?" I started stomping up the stairs, leaving Inspector Detector behind as I said, "I can't take this…"
Just as I was about to open the door, Racer X emerged from it. I think he stared at me. His face didn't tear away from me until he was on the second or third step. I watched him.
But that's just what they say, I thought.
"Are you sure you'd like to do this, Trixie?" asked Minx, holding Gizmo before me. "He is your father."
"No, he's not," I snorted.
"Alright then," she nodded. She hooked Gizmo up to a large computer. The monitor showed the word 'Buffering' and a process bar.
"I expect this was all your idea?" she asked. I paused and then said, "Yes."
This wasn't going to be something else my father had to kill Speed for.
The process bar disappeared and was replaced with a screen called 'Homing Bird 2.0: Gizmo.' I stared at the word and asked, "He registered the name?!"
"Yes, just last week," said Minx. "He thought it had a ring to it." She click-clacked on her keyboard and brought up Gizmo's snapshots.
"Hey!" I declared. "That one!" I pointed to the next to last photo: the Mercedes in front of a building.
"There's a street sign!" she declared. She plugged the names into a GPS search. A red flashing dot appeared on the screen.
"I thought these kind of things only existed in the movies," I muttered.
"It's a hotel," she said. "Likely not a permanent place of residence, but it's a start. You can go now, Trixie. If we find anything, we'll be sure to call you."
"Thank you, Minx," I said. I went to leave, but then turned back, "Oh, Minx! I have to ask … what exactly do you know about Racer X?"
"Nothing at all, why?" she responded.
"Oh, no reason," I said. I glanced at her dubiously. Whatever this conspiracy Racer X had going about his identity was, Minx was apparently a part of it. I opened the door. Only seconds before I took my first step down the stairwell, she said to me, "You're a very smart girl, Trixie."
I craned my neck to look at her. The expression on her face clearly said, 'maybe a bit too smart.'
"Thank you," I replied. Then I left.
Only to have Pops Racer scold me … again. The last time had been for accompanying Speed to Casa Cristo. I would have thought leading his son to death's door would have made him ten times madder than joyriding a car.
I don't know why I did … this was a Racer I was talking about!
"Do you have any idea what could have happened to that car!?" he screamed. "And you left it! The Mach 5 isn't a car to be left unattended."
"I had the keys," I muttered. "And the cockpit was sealed."
Mom Racer stood on the other side of the room. She had her sons on either side of her. Spritle and Chim-Chim were holding each other, bracing for when he really flipped out on me. Speed was watching desperately.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" asked Pops. I looked down and frowned; I really didn't have anything to say. I didn't regret taking the car, and if Speed didn't tell them about Gizmo and the plot to foil my father, I certainly wasn't going to.
"The car is fine," I mumbled. He looked at it, turned to me, and let out a deep breath, "You're right."
"I'm what?"
"The Mach 5 is perfectly fine. Thank God."
"And we're so happy you're alright, too," added Mom, reaching out with comforting arms, patting the shoulders of an invisible me that stood in front of her.
"Just … don't do it again," Pops warned. "Or I might have to ban you from the wheel!"
"Yes sir," I let out a deep breath. Mom and Pops left the living room; she patting him on the back and praising him for controlling his temper. Spritle and Chim-Chim opened their eyes, suspicious of the lack of an explosion, let each other go, and wiped their foreheads. Speed ran over to me.
"I thought he was going to kill me!" I sighed.
"He'll do that to you," he concurred.
"I guess you only feel the wrath of Pops Racer if you're a non-ja, huh?" I joked. Speed smiled, "Go get your pulse rate back to normal; we've got a race in four hours."
And those four hours later, I was sliding into the door of my lovely racing car as it sat on the blue and white start line at the course called Brittlerock 2. In the distance were archways made of stone, a totem pole or two, and, way out beyond, a city full of skyscrapers. There was also a canyon underneath us that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Stay on course … or else, pretty much," I said aloud. I looked at my opponents. Joining Speed and me on the 'Let's Crush Sprixie' side of the track were Cannonball and Kellie (how they kept coming back when they always lost is still a mystery to me, but I expect that was Rival's doing as well), the Gray Ghost, and Delila, who I noticed still had a bandage on her nose. I waved at her.
"I'm gonna kill you, you little brat! You and your ascot-wearing, pathetic excuse for a boyfriend!"
"Hey!" called Speed, pointing at the red scarf he donned on his collar, "This is a neckerchief!"
I glanced at him unsurely.
"They're different," he whispered. While Rosey pushed Delila back into her driver's seat and Speed began to mutter the disparities between ascots and neckerchiefs like it was the most important life lesson I'd ever get, I rolled my eyes and stared forward down the track.
"3…" sounded the PA.
"Here it comes," I whispered.
"2…"
"Now or never," Speed said as we both hit the accelerator.
"1! GO!"
Smoke emitted from the bottom of our wheels as we took off. Talk about burning rubber! I veered right and slipped right past Rosey and Kellie. I pushed myself further and managed to get next to the Gray Ghost.
"Show me what you got, pretty lady," he said.
"This is for Speed Racer at Fuji," I told him through gritted teeth. And then I Sweet Span him. Sure, he hadn't been the one to make Speed crash that year ago, but I still held some fault to him.
We came upon the tunnel, blue and white on the bottom and white and red on the ceiling. Delila and her car, the Chichi were driving on the ceiling as if it was as straight as the track.
"AHHHHH!!" she screamed. And she jumped off, coming right at me! I gasped, drove onto the ceiling, and swirled around back to the ground. While I was maneuvering, Kellie sped past me.
"Just great," I muttered.
The Chichi landed, front first, where the TRX-1 had been. Delilia's Kwiksave bubble bounced off the track. I let out a deep breath of relief and started en route to catch back up to Kellie. When I could finally see the Matryoshka up close, I rammed her on the side and misaligned her with the track.
"Oh, not this time," she said. She readjusted herself and pushed into my car. I tried to fight against her, but the wheels to the TRX-1 started to shift to the left the harder she pushed me to the right. Finally she hit me so hard that I was on my side, staring down at the canyons of Brittlerock. The dream I'd had last night came back to me.
"Here's to not being psychic!" I yelled, pushing the A button. My left jump jack pushed the Matryoshka off of me.
"Yes!" I shouted. I pushed the button again, flipped over Kellie's head, and landed beside her. Then she pushed her boost button and I lost her.
"Kellie Kalinkov is catching up to leader Speed Racer!" said the announcer. "But I think he may have seen that attack on Trixie Shimura, and he's NOT happy about it!"
"Usually, I try not to hit girls," he said. "But you're an exception!" He Jump Attacked her, but she came back and started ramming him like she did me.
The Royalton GRX came tumbling by and finally landed next to me. As a sort of revenge on Speed for his consistent whipping of his tail, he attempted to Sweet Spin me. Before his finger even touched the button, I dug into the side of his car with mine.
"And now they've begun to duke it out, couple to couple!" shouted the announcer.
"I'm so sick of you little punks," said Cannonball. The GRX jumped into the air.
"If Delila couldn't do it, what makes you think you can?" I asked him. I pressed the doge button. The car went to 380 mph in less than a second. Kellie's car was a blur as I went by.
"Sprixie comes out on top!" bellowed through the track.
"Are you okay?" asked Speed as I slowed back to normal pace.
"Peachy keen," I shook my head clear. The sounds of engines behind us became louder.
"They're catching up again," said Speed. He looked up at the track. It was split into two paths.
"And we're almost at the finish," he added. I glanced at my boost bar. It was in the blue zone. I looked behind us for a moment, murmured, "I'm ready," and hit the bar. I drove over a green boost patch while in the Zone and went from 417 to 430 mph. It was so fast that I started spinning while I drove. I couldn't even tell which path I was on!
"And the winner is TRIXIE SHIMURA!!!" yelled the omniscient commentator. I stopped, let out a deep breath, and pulled off my helmet. I was glad that was over. The cameras started to go off, and fans were cheering. Speed came over. I expected a hug or a kiss or something. He squeezed my shoulder, rubbed it a bit, said, "Good race," and walked away, leaving me with my jaw dropped.
"Speed Racer, you break my heart."