Joe stepped out of the truck, once again reassuring Jen that Josh was going to be ok. Having just left the hospital after a long 5+ hours, Joe was ready to head home, grab a hot shower and fall into bed. It had been an incredible evening and even now it was still sinking into him that he had in fact saved someone’s life that very night. Funny, he thought… I don’t FEEL like a hero like everyone’s telling me…
Pressing the small button on the remote to the Viper he heard the audible “click” of the door locks being released. Jen, seeing the interior lights come on, slowly pulled away, the exhaust of the Lightning rumbling in the cool early morning air, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath the meaty tires easily heard as she neared the exit, paused then headed on out the exit road. It was nearly 3am and even though the track had been closed for nearly 4 hours, there were still several trucks, trailers and cars around. It had been a weird night for everyone with the nearly fatal fire that the Cobra had fallen victim to a definite memory maker for everyone.
Thankfully, Josh was going to recover. He suffered second and third degree burns on his feet, his hands and the back of his neck and had inhaled a lot of smoke. The doctors were certain he was going to need some grafting done but it was too early to tell. Maybe next week, thought Joe as he slid beneath the wheel of the Viper, buckled up the 5 point, pulled the driver’s door shut and slid the key into the ignition. Rotating the key around brought the gauges to life and after pausing a second, he rotated the key to “Start”. The noise overwhelmed the night…
As he sat there and revved the V-10, he could feel the enormous torque trying to tear the motor free from the mounts, which only caused the car to rotate slightly. The metal shifter knob felt cool and powerful in his grip, the pedals at his feet begging for his ministrations, and the car sat menacingly, waiting impatiently to kill something. Anything, it just needed to annihilate another mechanized foe – this was the purpose for which the car was built.
With each rev, the grin on Joe’s face got bigger and the worry about Josh faded… After warming the car, he pulled on down the same access lane Jen had just used, stopped at the exit, and then headed on out into the cool night air towards home… the tail-lights disappearing over the rise.
It was nearly 10 days before Josh was released. Joe, Jen, Dan, Sally, and many others were at the hospital to see him wheeled out to his first glimpse of the sun in those many days. Jen stood close by and hugged him as he stood up and then slid into the passenger side of her new car, a Nissan Maxima SE that she had just picked up that morning. Everyone applauded the release and Josh just smiled a thank you, surprised at so many having come to see him go home. He had decided earlier in the week that perhaps racing really wasn’t something he was in a hurry to resume. And, since the insurance company wouldn’t cover his car since it was being used “in a manner for which coverage did not allow”; the wreck was a complete loss. The smoky hulk sat in his garage, waiting for his return. Ironically, he knew he would never sell it – fix it someday, maybe – but he would never part with it.
It’s odd how events can change one’s life in an instant. How a near death experience can make you realize that life IS indeed very short and precious. Or, how much you can learn from just being there…
The sun seemed to jump up from the horizon that morning. Sally was dreaming that she was standing in the shower, the hot water cascading upon her face, feeling hot and flush. Then, her mind cleared and she realized that the sunbeam had in fact penetrated a crack in the blind and was directly upon her cheek, warming it for the coming day.
A smile crept across her lips as she reached back behind to feel Dan’s back against hers, his skin cool and dry, his breathing deep and steady. They had been seeing each other for months now, both in love but both afraid to really say it often… as if saying it would jinx the feelings each held for the other. Oddly, their relationship had deepened since that night of the Cobra’s crash, perhaps both mindful that no one is guaranteed the next moment.
Her hand slid on down Dan’s muscular back and then on around his waist, rubbing his skin. Searching, reaching, she moved closer to him, her touch now making him stir and come awake. Perhaps not ALL of Dan was asleep, she thought. He now rolled toward her; his sleep-filled eyes catching some of the same ray of sun and making him squint hard. He pulled Sally’s naked body close and held her, her head upon his shoulder, her hand still exploring, still moving. Kissing her forehead, he shocked her with his first words that morning.
“Sally, will you marry me?”
Her hand stopped moving and she looked into his eyes, hers becoming moist with tears. She was barely able to speak.
“Dan? Are you sure you’re awake?”
“Yes. I’m awake. Will you marry me Sally? Today?”
Sally paused as she tried to think of a reason to say no. But the screaming of her heart drowned out any protestations of the mind.
“Oh, yes Danny… I’ll marry you.”
Dan smiled and sank back into his pillow, feeling Sally’s hand once again begin to stir southward once more. It was definitely going to be a great day.
Later that evening, Dan and Sally drove down to the Flats, an area known for its fine eateries and pubs. Celebrating their hurried up ceremony with only a witness for each standing by, they had an evening of partying to do.
Dan glided Sally’s WE4 into the parking lot of Nicky’s Little Italy, stopped, parked and gave the keys to the valet, then they headed on inside. Four hours later, after a meal of the finest Italian food in that part of the state and being entertained with the singing and piano playing of Guido, the Piano Man, they headed back out the door and after waiting for the valet to bring the Buick around, got in and headed on out down the street. They both were still flush with excitement of the day and happier than either could remember.
”Oh, Dan… I want to feel like this forever,” said Sally.
“I promise you Sally that I’ll do my best” beamed Dan, his hand clasping hers atop the shifter.
They headed back out of the Flats and turned onto a road that would take them past a favorite hangout of the local street race fans – Woody’s Restaurant. Woody’s was well known for its ‘60’s motif and had car-hops on roller skates taking orders and bringing the food out, specializing in huge burgers and malts. If one closed their eyes and listened, it was as if you were sitting in a scene from “American Graffiti” - only the age of the cars were different.
“Wanna Cherry coke?” half joked Dan, nodding up the street at the brightly parking lot of Woody’s, several primo street machines already queued up waiting to pull in as traffic cleared..
“Sure! It’ll be fun! Let’s see who’s at Woody’s tonight”. Sally never looked more beautiful to Dan he thought. Maybe this marrying stuff isn’t so bad after all…
They waited their turn to pull in, and after easing over the curb entrance to avoid scraping the pavement, pulled on into the first open slot, between a ’71 Ford Torino Cobra that looked to be completely stock and as if just driven from the dealer’s lot and a deep blue LS1 Camaro that had two gauges mounted on the hood in front of the driver. As usual, people stopped and stared as Dan backed the WE4 into the slot, idled for a moment and then shut it down. Almost immediately the carhop was at his door taking their order.
As the order taker skated away, Dan and Sally watched a couple of young men engaged in a debate on the opposite side of the parking lot. What caught their eyes was the fact that once in a while, either one of them seemed to be pointing towards the Buick, or perhaps one of the cars near them. Sally felt uncomfortable about the looks and attitudes of the two – oddly, a chill seemed to run down her back each time one of them pointed their way…
Moments later, they were enjoying their drinks; Dan slurped on his Chocolate Malt, and Sally on her Cherry Coke. Listening to the Black Crowe’s “Hard To Handle” blaring over the PA, they both noticed the two guys that appeared to be arguing earlier head over toward their side of the lot. And oddly enough, most everyone else was watching them walk that way too.
“Hmmm”-mused Dan, “wonder what these clowns want.”
“I don’t know, Danny”, worried Sally, “but lets just head home, ok? No racing tonight, ok Dan?”
“Sure, honey,” mumbled Dan, watching the two approaching their car. Still, he wasn’t sure they were coming their way because just as they got near the front of the Buick, they split up. But, one came to the driver’s side; the other to the passenger side and then they both leaned over to look into the car.
“What’s up, boys?” asked Dan, just before he emptied the malt glass, a loud slurping sound exaggerated purposely by him. Slowly, he turned to face the one at his door.
He saw the face of a twenty-something young man, a couple of gold chains around his neck, pierced eyebrows, nose and ears, and an odd inverted cross tattoo upon the neck.
“Hey, my man” said the one leering at Sally. “The homey’s got a bitch wid him. He ain’t gonna play!” which oddly make both of them laugh.
Dan felt his face go red. Still, he kept his cool.
“You lookin’ for some action, bro?” asked the one at Dan’s door.
“Not tonight” Dan hissed. “It’s been a long day and we’re heading home. Maybe another time.”
“See, Roberto, I tol’ you – he ain’t no playa” laughed the one with the backwards cap at Sally’s door. “He’s done heard about yo ride ‘berto and he knows ain’t nuttin gonna keep wid the Vtec.”
Suddenly, Dan had to laugh. “You mean to tell me that you boys have got a Honda and you want to run ME? In THIS car?” He laughed again, but oddly, he laughed alone. Roberto’s eyes narrowed and then he leaned in closer.
“Listen up, G. I’ve got $500 dollars that says my ride will kick yo gramma-car’s ass. Oh, I’ve heard about these nasty Buicks alright – by me and my peep there put together a killa fly-ride. Wanna play? Or do ya wanna go home with momma there?”
Sally’s grip tightened on Dan’s arm. Dan reached over and patted it.
“Tell you what” smiled Dan coldly. “I’ve got a thousand that says you OR your ricer ain’t **** – no matter how much ‘nawwwwwwwwwwwwwssssssssssssssss’ you may be sprayin’.” Dan knew just which button to push all right.
Sally gasped. “Dan”, she whispered, “NOT tonight. Let’s GO!” He pulled his arm free from her grasp, turned and smiled at her. “It’s ok, honey. It’ll only take about 11-12 seconds to do this.”
Sally could only roll her eyes.
“Show me your ride,” hissed Dan. “You’ve already seen mine.”
“This way homey… this way” pointed Roberto toward a dark red import sitting beneath the fluorescent lit canopy.
“You wanna run my wife’s Buick with your CIVIC?” laughed Dan. “And for MONEY? Man, you ARE crazy.”
‘Berto looked at his buddy and smiled. “Hey Pez – do you think we got a chance?” They both laughed again. “Oh yeah, ‘berto – you got a chance alright… you definitely got a chance.”
He popped the hood to show Dan what he was going to be running. The first thing Dan noticed was that this was no transverse mounted inline four – it was an axially mounted V-6 that had somehow been wedged between the strut towers. Someone had spent a LOT of time and money on THIS car.
Roberto couldn’t resist. “Man, it’ll be a V-6 against a V-6. That’s fair, right? It’s pretty much stock out of a ’99 Accord. I did the work, used a rear from a wrecked Supra, and used the Accord Auto tranny. Yeah… it was a LOT of work…wasn’t it Pez?” More laughter.
Dan could see the braided lines coming from behind and beneath the firewall. NOS lines. He stood thinking for a moment… this definitely was a very nice job, rice or not.
Sally’s WE4 wasn’t stock but it wasn’t heavily modded either. Maybe a very, very low 12 or a high 11 at this point. But, it should be enough.
“Yeah. Let’s go. I’ll take your money, ‘homeboy’”, sneered Dan. Again, the ricers just laughed.
As Dan walked back to the car, he knew Sally would be pissed. But – he also knew that in a matter of minutes, he would be a thousand dollars richer.
Sally didn’t speak as he got in the car until he started it up – and even then, she only glared at him, murmuring under her breath about “racing on our honeymoon night”. And of course, Dan didn’t hear.
Nearly everyone watched as the Civic pulled around and motioned to Dan to follow him. Almost simultaneously, several other cars fired up and pulled out too, following the two soon to be racers out to the abandoned access road. The Cobra Torino, the LS1 Camaro, a few 5.0’s, and several others now formed a convoy heading to “The Quick or The Dead”; the name given to the semi-official “track”. A string of taillights of all shapes snaked its way north then west, everyone eager to see the race.
No one had noticed the driver in the Marina Blue ’68 Chevelle bringing up the rear. The thin, gaunt face. The deep-set eyes. The heavily veined hands covered by a leathery skin that had seen too much sun. Hands that had become very good at handling the Glock 21 .45 cal semi-auto tucked in the glove compartment of the Chevelle... hands that lately had way too much time upon them - ever since he had lost his wife, his job, his soul...
...it was Harry.
NO one had any idea how ill fated the name was going to become for that road - that night…
Coming soon – Part 14 “The Long Kiss Goodbye”
Pressing the small button on the remote to the Viper he heard the audible “click” of the door locks being released. Jen, seeing the interior lights come on, slowly pulled away, the exhaust of the Lightning rumbling in the cool early morning air, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath the meaty tires easily heard as she neared the exit, paused then headed on out the exit road. It was nearly 3am and even though the track had been closed for nearly 4 hours, there were still several trucks, trailers and cars around. It had been a weird night for everyone with the nearly fatal fire that the Cobra had fallen victim to a definite memory maker for everyone.
Thankfully, Josh was going to recover. He suffered second and third degree burns on his feet, his hands and the back of his neck and had inhaled a lot of smoke. The doctors were certain he was going to need some grafting done but it was too early to tell. Maybe next week, thought Joe as he slid beneath the wheel of the Viper, buckled up the 5 point, pulled the driver’s door shut and slid the key into the ignition. Rotating the key around brought the gauges to life and after pausing a second, he rotated the key to “Start”. The noise overwhelmed the night…
As he sat there and revved the V-10, he could feel the enormous torque trying to tear the motor free from the mounts, which only caused the car to rotate slightly. The metal shifter knob felt cool and powerful in his grip, the pedals at his feet begging for his ministrations, and the car sat menacingly, waiting impatiently to kill something. Anything, it just needed to annihilate another mechanized foe – this was the purpose for which the car was built.
With each rev, the grin on Joe’s face got bigger and the worry about Josh faded… After warming the car, he pulled on down the same access lane Jen had just used, stopped at the exit, and then headed on out into the cool night air towards home… the tail-lights disappearing over the rise.
It was nearly 10 days before Josh was released. Joe, Jen, Dan, Sally, and many others were at the hospital to see him wheeled out to his first glimpse of the sun in those many days. Jen stood close by and hugged him as he stood up and then slid into the passenger side of her new car, a Nissan Maxima SE that she had just picked up that morning. Everyone applauded the release and Josh just smiled a thank you, surprised at so many having come to see him go home. He had decided earlier in the week that perhaps racing really wasn’t something he was in a hurry to resume. And, since the insurance company wouldn’t cover his car since it was being used “in a manner for which coverage did not allow”; the wreck was a complete loss. The smoky hulk sat in his garage, waiting for his return. Ironically, he knew he would never sell it – fix it someday, maybe – but he would never part with it.
It’s odd how events can change one’s life in an instant. How a near death experience can make you realize that life IS indeed very short and precious. Or, how much you can learn from just being there…
The sun seemed to jump up from the horizon that morning. Sally was dreaming that she was standing in the shower, the hot water cascading upon her face, feeling hot and flush. Then, her mind cleared and she realized that the sunbeam had in fact penetrated a crack in the blind and was directly upon her cheek, warming it for the coming day.
A smile crept across her lips as she reached back behind to feel Dan’s back against hers, his skin cool and dry, his breathing deep and steady. They had been seeing each other for months now, both in love but both afraid to really say it often… as if saying it would jinx the feelings each held for the other. Oddly, their relationship had deepened since that night of the Cobra’s crash, perhaps both mindful that no one is guaranteed the next moment.
Her hand slid on down Dan’s muscular back and then on around his waist, rubbing his skin. Searching, reaching, she moved closer to him, her touch now making him stir and come awake. Perhaps not ALL of Dan was asleep, she thought. He now rolled toward her; his sleep-filled eyes catching some of the same ray of sun and making him squint hard. He pulled Sally’s naked body close and held her, her head upon his shoulder, her hand still exploring, still moving. Kissing her forehead, he shocked her with his first words that morning.
“Sally, will you marry me?”
Her hand stopped moving and she looked into his eyes, hers becoming moist with tears. She was barely able to speak.
“Dan? Are you sure you’re awake?”
“Yes. I’m awake. Will you marry me Sally? Today?”
Sally paused as she tried to think of a reason to say no. But the screaming of her heart drowned out any protestations of the mind.
“Oh, yes Danny… I’ll marry you.”
Dan smiled and sank back into his pillow, feeling Sally’s hand once again begin to stir southward once more. It was definitely going to be a great day.
Later that evening, Dan and Sally drove down to the Flats, an area known for its fine eateries and pubs. Celebrating their hurried up ceremony with only a witness for each standing by, they had an evening of partying to do.
Dan glided Sally’s WE4 into the parking lot of Nicky’s Little Italy, stopped, parked and gave the keys to the valet, then they headed on inside. Four hours later, after a meal of the finest Italian food in that part of the state and being entertained with the singing and piano playing of Guido, the Piano Man, they headed back out the door and after waiting for the valet to bring the Buick around, got in and headed on out down the street. They both were still flush with excitement of the day and happier than either could remember.
”Oh, Dan… I want to feel like this forever,” said Sally.
“I promise you Sally that I’ll do my best” beamed Dan, his hand clasping hers atop the shifter.
They headed back out of the Flats and turned onto a road that would take them past a favorite hangout of the local street race fans – Woody’s Restaurant. Woody’s was well known for its ‘60’s motif and had car-hops on roller skates taking orders and bringing the food out, specializing in huge burgers and malts. If one closed their eyes and listened, it was as if you were sitting in a scene from “American Graffiti” - only the age of the cars were different.
“Wanna Cherry coke?” half joked Dan, nodding up the street at the brightly parking lot of Woody’s, several primo street machines already queued up waiting to pull in as traffic cleared..
“Sure! It’ll be fun! Let’s see who’s at Woody’s tonight”. Sally never looked more beautiful to Dan he thought. Maybe this marrying stuff isn’t so bad after all…
They waited their turn to pull in, and after easing over the curb entrance to avoid scraping the pavement, pulled on into the first open slot, between a ’71 Ford Torino Cobra that looked to be completely stock and as if just driven from the dealer’s lot and a deep blue LS1 Camaro that had two gauges mounted on the hood in front of the driver. As usual, people stopped and stared as Dan backed the WE4 into the slot, idled for a moment and then shut it down. Almost immediately the carhop was at his door taking their order.
As the order taker skated away, Dan and Sally watched a couple of young men engaged in a debate on the opposite side of the parking lot. What caught their eyes was the fact that once in a while, either one of them seemed to be pointing towards the Buick, or perhaps one of the cars near them. Sally felt uncomfortable about the looks and attitudes of the two – oddly, a chill seemed to run down her back each time one of them pointed their way…
Moments later, they were enjoying their drinks; Dan slurped on his Chocolate Malt, and Sally on her Cherry Coke. Listening to the Black Crowe’s “Hard To Handle” blaring over the PA, they both noticed the two guys that appeared to be arguing earlier head over toward their side of the lot. And oddly enough, most everyone else was watching them walk that way too.
“Hmmm”-mused Dan, “wonder what these clowns want.”
“I don’t know, Danny”, worried Sally, “but lets just head home, ok? No racing tonight, ok Dan?”
“Sure, honey,” mumbled Dan, watching the two approaching their car. Still, he wasn’t sure they were coming their way because just as they got near the front of the Buick, they split up. But, one came to the driver’s side; the other to the passenger side and then they both leaned over to look into the car.
“What’s up, boys?” asked Dan, just before he emptied the malt glass, a loud slurping sound exaggerated purposely by him. Slowly, he turned to face the one at his door.
He saw the face of a twenty-something young man, a couple of gold chains around his neck, pierced eyebrows, nose and ears, and an odd inverted cross tattoo upon the neck.
“Hey, my man” said the one leering at Sally. “The homey’s got a bitch wid him. He ain’t gonna play!” which oddly make both of them laugh.
Dan felt his face go red. Still, he kept his cool.
“You lookin’ for some action, bro?” asked the one at Dan’s door.
“Not tonight” Dan hissed. “It’s been a long day and we’re heading home. Maybe another time.”
“See, Roberto, I tol’ you – he ain’t no playa” laughed the one with the backwards cap at Sally’s door. “He’s done heard about yo ride ‘berto and he knows ain’t nuttin gonna keep wid the Vtec.”
Suddenly, Dan had to laugh. “You mean to tell me that you boys have got a Honda and you want to run ME? In THIS car?” He laughed again, but oddly, he laughed alone. Roberto’s eyes narrowed and then he leaned in closer.
“Listen up, G. I’ve got $500 dollars that says my ride will kick yo gramma-car’s ass. Oh, I’ve heard about these nasty Buicks alright – by me and my peep there put together a killa fly-ride. Wanna play? Or do ya wanna go home with momma there?”
Sally’s grip tightened on Dan’s arm. Dan reached over and patted it.
“Tell you what” smiled Dan coldly. “I’ve got a thousand that says you OR your ricer ain’t **** – no matter how much ‘nawwwwwwwwwwwwwssssssssssssssss’ you may be sprayin’.” Dan knew just which button to push all right.
Sally gasped. “Dan”, she whispered, “NOT tonight. Let’s GO!” He pulled his arm free from her grasp, turned and smiled at her. “It’s ok, honey. It’ll only take about 11-12 seconds to do this.”
Sally could only roll her eyes.
“Show me your ride,” hissed Dan. “You’ve already seen mine.”
“This way homey… this way” pointed Roberto toward a dark red import sitting beneath the fluorescent lit canopy.
“You wanna run my wife’s Buick with your CIVIC?” laughed Dan. “And for MONEY? Man, you ARE crazy.”
‘Berto looked at his buddy and smiled. “Hey Pez – do you think we got a chance?” They both laughed again. “Oh yeah, ‘berto – you got a chance alright… you definitely got a chance.”
He popped the hood to show Dan what he was going to be running. The first thing Dan noticed was that this was no transverse mounted inline four – it was an axially mounted V-6 that had somehow been wedged between the strut towers. Someone had spent a LOT of time and money on THIS car.
Roberto couldn’t resist. “Man, it’ll be a V-6 against a V-6. That’s fair, right? It’s pretty much stock out of a ’99 Accord. I did the work, used a rear from a wrecked Supra, and used the Accord Auto tranny. Yeah… it was a LOT of work…wasn’t it Pez?” More laughter.
Dan could see the braided lines coming from behind and beneath the firewall. NOS lines. He stood thinking for a moment… this definitely was a very nice job, rice or not.
Sally’s WE4 wasn’t stock but it wasn’t heavily modded either. Maybe a very, very low 12 or a high 11 at this point. But, it should be enough.
“Yeah. Let’s go. I’ll take your money, ‘homeboy’”, sneered Dan. Again, the ricers just laughed.
As Dan walked back to the car, he knew Sally would be pissed. But – he also knew that in a matter of minutes, he would be a thousand dollars richer.
Sally didn’t speak as he got in the car until he started it up – and even then, she only glared at him, murmuring under her breath about “racing on our honeymoon night”. And of course, Dan didn’t hear.
Nearly everyone watched as the Civic pulled around and motioned to Dan to follow him. Almost simultaneously, several other cars fired up and pulled out too, following the two soon to be racers out to the abandoned access road. The Cobra Torino, the LS1 Camaro, a few 5.0’s, and several others now formed a convoy heading to “The Quick or The Dead”; the name given to the semi-official “track”. A string of taillights of all shapes snaked its way north then west, everyone eager to see the race.
No one had noticed the driver in the Marina Blue ’68 Chevelle bringing up the rear. The thin, gaunt face. The deep-set eyes. The heavily veined hands covered by a leathery skin that had seen too much sun. Hands that had become very good at handling the Glock 21 .45 cal semi-auto tucked in the glove compartment of the Chevelle... hands that lately had way too much time upon them - ever since he had lost his wife, his job, his soul...
...it was Harry.
NO one had any idea how ill fated the name was going to become for that road - that night…
Coming soon – Part 14 “The Long Kiss Goodbye”
