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Racing Heart
The familiar smell of burnt rubber fills the air. So nostalgic it brings memories I didn't know I've forgotten. Car revs in the distance as the lights dangle on the desk from the passing cars on the track. A knock on the door catches my attention "Alex" said Don half way peeking through the door. "Are you ready for your race? Your race division is next".
"Yea, I'm coming" I replied, unable to hide the shaky nervousness in my voice. "You got this, your father was the same way when he first raced on the track" he said with a smile trying to reassure me and it almost worked if it wasn't for the crescending loud sound of the cars reeling around for their next lap. "We'll be here waiting whenever you're ready". I nod and he leaves, closing the door behind him. Reason I'm here to begin with is not because I've earned a spot in the meet but to make my father proud. He has a true racing heart, everything is a race to him but never had a competitor. He also wanted a son to pass his legacy too so when I was born he did not force it on me but…almost. I on the other hand hated cars and racing, racing cars. We were utter opposites and at times I wonder if we had anything in common. The older I got I realized we did have one thing in common, our competitive spirit and he knew it too. Teaching me how to disassemble and reassemble a car engine but challenging me so I'm persuaded to do so, the slick bastard he is. A memory I disliked turned into a one I cherished and it was a good father and child bonding experience. Eventually I learned how to drive at the age of 13 and working and driving grew on me. Soon I looked forward to our frequent vivid visits to car shows along with my dad racing with me cheering him on in the stands. Never thought I would be on the track as well wearing his number and his helmet. It was baggy because he was bigger and taller than I was and I'm now 22 and fully grown. My dad who's in a coma in the hospital from an accident he received from a race a few months ago at the first race of this season.
Doctor's appointed he's lucky to be alive, he may never race or possibly walk again. This would utterly destroy him almost to a point of death. He lived on the road. Speculation raged onward if he's going to continue racing so for the rivalry we both share I decided I will take hold of the mantle and race in his steed. It would be against the rules to switch drivers so I posed as him with a little help from coach Don and dad's manager, Howard Shrew. A voice over the radio from my race helmet pings in "your race is next. The team is still waiting for you Alex". *Sigh* I put on my helmet and headed to my car. Approaching the team filled with solemn fake smiles smeared across their faces like a little kid drew it, trying their best to cheer me up. "You got this Alex, you're the only one who can do this" a voice from the side coming from a tire boy. I nod in approval, "thank you, I really needed that". Another fun fact, my father's car was completely totaled from his accident so I had to use mine. We both have race cars so what's better than to use my own? Besides the stack of papers as long as my arm had to get signed which I didn't do. Well, most of it, just to register my car as a replacement. Soon I'm on the track with Don, my coach leaning in the window. "Ok if all goes well, don't take off your helmet, keep quiet, and win. I know you Jack are unfilial so race then get out of there. Heart reverberating in my chest, simplicity understanding the fear turning to avid. "Your father always wanted you on the track," Don said. "I know. I never expected it to be like this. I'd imagine we be here together as a team."
"Me too, me too. Oh and one more thing. Your father usually uses his turbo at the start of the race to get him in first place. All he has to do is maintain it". I couldn't help but smirk, "I appreciate the help, but let me do this my way." Now as the light lights up above, I see dad's new rival who actually poses a threat. The steel cage grenade, "Gauge Petkinski". Looking into each other's visors I can feel his gaze like daggers incandescent through his...
"Yea, I'm coming" I replied, unable to hide the shaky nervousness in my voice. "You got this, your father was the same way when he first raced on the track" he said with a smile trying to reassure me and it almost worked if it wasn't for the crescending loud sound of the cars reeling around for their next lap. "We'll be here waiting whenever you're ready". I nod and he leaves, closing the door behind him. Reason I'm here to begin with is not because I've earned a spot in the meet but to make my father proud. He has a true racing heart, everything is a race to him but never had a competitor. He also wanted a son to pass his legacy too so when I was born he did not force it on me but…almost. I on the other hand hated cars and racing, racing cars. We were utter opposites and at times I wonder if we had anything in common. The older I got I realized we did have one thing in common, our competitive spirit and he knew it too. Teaching me how to disassemble and reassemble a car engine but challenging me so I'm persuaded to do so, the slick bastard he is. A memory I disliked turned into a one I cherished and it was a good father and child bonding experience. Eventually I learned how to drive at the age of 13 and working and driving grew on me. Soon I looked forward to our frequent vivid visits to car shows along with my dad racing with me cheering him on in the stands. Never thought I would be on the track as well wearing his number and his helmet. It was baggy because he was bigger and taller than I was and I'm now 22 and fully grown. My dad who's in a coma in the hospital from an accident he received from a race a few months ago at the first race of this season.
Doctor's appointed he's lucky to be alive, he may never race or possibly walk again. This would utterly destroy him almost to a point of death. He lived on the road. Speculation raged onward if he's going to continue racing so for the rivalry we both share I decided I will take hold of the mantle and race in his steed. It would be against the rules to switch drivers so I posed as him with a little help from coach Don and dad's manager, Howard Shrew. A voice over the radio from my race helmet pings in "your race is next. The team is still waiting for you Alex". *Sigh* I put on my helmet and headed to my car. Approaching the team filled with solemn fake smiles smeared across their faces like a little kid drew it, trying their best to cheer me up. "You got this Alex, you're the only one who can do this" a voice from the side coming from a tire boy. I nod in approval, "thank you, I really needed that". Another fun fact, my father's car was completely totaled from his accident so I had to use mine. We both have race cars so what's better than to use my own? Besides the stack of papers as long as my arm had to get signed which I didn't do. Well, most of it, just to register my car as a replacement. Soon I'm on the track with Don, my coach leaning in the window. "Ok if all goes well, don't take off your helmet, keep quiet, and win. I know you Jack are unfilial so race then get out of there. Heart reverberating in my chest, simplicity understanding the fear turning to avid. "Your father always wanted you on the track," Don said. "I know. I never expected it to be like this. I'd imagine we be here together as a team."
"Me too, me too. Oh and one more thing. Your father usually uses his turbo at the start of the race to get him in first place. All he has to do is maintain it". I couldn't help but smirk, "I appreciate the help, but let me do this my way." Now as the light lights up above, I see dad's new rival who actually poses a threat. The steel cage grenade, "Gauge Petkinski". Looking into each other's visors I can feel his gaze like daggers incandescent through his...
