Jack was watching the race from the top of the pit wagon. He wore headphones and held binoculars. Revver needed to be very, very careful.
Revver put his paw over his heart when he heard the national anthem, just like he’d seen a million times from the tree. He felt very earnest. Then he heard the grand marshal yell, “Drivers, start your engines!” and he saw the pace car and felt the vibration of all the cars behind it, and he knew that this was the moment they had all been awaiting.
Revver stood, hidden but focused. Watching the race from pit road was so awesome! It was all so close! It was all so beautifully FAST. Even though Revver was worried about Jack spotting him, it was better than he had ever imagined.
Their car was running GREAT! The driver had worked his way up to the lead! Every once in a while, someone on the team would catch Revver’s eye and give him a “thumbs-up”!
After a while, their driver pulled onto pit road. When the car was one pit stall away, the entire crew: the fuel guy, the jackman, the tire carrier, Bill, and the other tire changer all jumped over the wall and into action. It was an incredible thing to watch. Revver felt a great sense of pride that he had played a part in all this.
As soon as the car stopped, the fuel guy started filling the car, the jackman lifted the right side of the car, and Bill jumped to the rear tire and squatted down. Zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht! Five lug nuts dropped to the ground. The tire changer took the old tire away, put the new tire on, and Bill zipped his impact wrench around to secure it: zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht!
The other tires were changed the same way while the gas man topped off the fuel and someone else used a brush on a long stick to clean off the front grill. The jack dropped the left side of the car to the ground, signaling that the pit stop was complete. The car squealed away, leaving its pit stall behind as it headed down pit road and back onto the track.
The car rolled over the lug nuts on the asphalt and shot them in all directions like tiny rockets. Remembering how he’d gathered them for Bill inside the garage, Revver couldn’t help but watch them fly. One in particular glimmered in the sunlight and caught his eye. It flew to the right of the team, toward the pit behind them. In a bit of a trance, Revver kept watching as it hit the ground.
That’s why Revver saw it happen when no one else on the team did. A few pit stalls behind them, a tire had somehow gotten away from the tire carrier and was rolling into the middle of pit road just as another car was squealing away from its pit stall. Ka-thud! The car collided with the runaway tire. The tire flew into the air, bounced, and went airborne again—heading straight for the top of the team’s pit wagon—and right toward Jack’s head!
There was no time at all to think, but all the lug-nut catching had given Revver exceptional aim. With all the power his furry legs could give him, Revver leapt toward the team owner. “Vr-vr-vr-VRRROOOOOOOOOOOOM!” pierced through all the other noise around them.
Jack turned to look just in time to see the squirrel flying right toward his face. Revver could see Jack’s mouth open wide in surprise. He could also see the angry look in Jack’s eyes when Jack realized that it was Revver flying toward him.
Revver grabbed onto Jack’s head. The two of them fell back just as the tire barely missed both of them, sailed over their heads, and landed safely on the ground behind them with a muffled thud!
Jack had not seen the tire, and he was fierce with anger. He threw Revver off as hard as he could. Revver somersaulted through the air. He flew, he flipped, and, finally, he rolled on the ground, back onto pit road. He landed, dizzy. Once he finally found his footing, his only instinct was to run—as fast as he could—away from Jack.
He leapt from the infield toward the outside wall between turns three and four, with the black #4 car just missing him. Revver snapped to realization: “What am I doing?! I’m on the track! I’m on the TRACK—DURING THE RACE!” He felt the wind from the right-side tire of the black car nearly catch his tail. Now Revver was running for his life!
Somewhere inside, a voice was telling him to get back to the safety of the infield, but he was still dizzy, and his vision was blurry from all the smoke. He couldn’t sense which way to go! He felt the heat of an engine on his side and turned. This time, the yellow #2 car missed him by a whisker. He dodged left and was almost hit again. A split second later, a bumper almost smashed into him head-on, and he dodged it just in time.
The squirrel squealed for his life, but his scream was completely drowned out by the engines. He kept running, jumping, and spinning on the steamy asphalt, dodging car after car and burning-hot grills and tailpipes by only a hair.
Revver’s entire short life flashed before his eyes. He saw himself as a baby squirrel, always fascinated with the track and the cars. His mother’s and his siblings’ chanting echoed through his ears like a nightmarish song that wouldn’t stop:
“And what’s the rule on cars?”
“If you get near that, you’ll end up FLAT!”
Desperately, he began to plead, “PLEASE! Somebody throw a caution! Wave the yellow flag! I’m going to die! I’M GOING TO DIE!!!”
But no one slowed down. The track was hot and sticky, and he struggled to move his paws on the gluey surface. He was moving in slow motion, but the cars were going faster and faster. The whole world was a blur.
Suddenly, ahead of him, Revver saw a wall. He wasn’t sure if it was the infield wall or the outside wall because he was so turned around, but it was his last hope. He took a deep breath, screamed for all he was worth, and leapt off the sticky asphalt with every ounce of strength he had.
Everything went black.
37
Revver was on his back, looking up at the sky. The sun was shining behind a large person, who looked down at him. The person’s face was in shadow. All Revver could see were the bright sun-rays all around them. Oh no, he thought, I must be dead. He squinted and tried to focus.
The figure spoke back. “You’re awake! Hey, little dude, that was quite a show you put on earlier! That was some fast, fancy action back there, that’s ferrrr sure! I gotta tell ya, though, none of us were certain you made it through. Sure took me a while to find you here, little buddy!”
Revver looked up, still confused. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t dead. He was lying on a patch of grass in the infield, and it was Bill talking to him.
The squirrel’s head felt heavy. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, that he was choking. In panic, he sat up, inhaled, and coughed hard . . .
And out popped—One. Yellow. Lug nut.
Bill jumped back in surprise. “Whoa! Dude! I told you before! You have GOT to stop trying to eat those!” Bill started laughing and shaking his head.
Revver sighed, exhausted, and let his head drop back on the ground.
Bill looked into Revver’s dull black eyes and saw his little mouth and whiskers pointing down, and Bill knew exactly what Revver was thinking. Bill’s own heart nearly broke when he realized it.
“Hey, buddy, you’re a hero!” Bill continued. “No one’s mad atcha, not even Jack! You saved ol’ Jack’s life back there! And you’ll never believe it: we won today! Revver! You helped us win!!! Jack’s come to thinking that you’re some kind of good luck charm for us! Dude, we’re sure not gettin’ rid of ya anytime soon! You wanna come back to the team, right?”
The sadness started to leave Revver’s face.
“Hey, buddy, it’s all fine! You got a little carried away in the garage, that’s all. I understand.”
I understand. Those words echoed around in Revver’s head, over and over. For Revver’s whole life, he’d longed for someone to understand. Now he had Sprite’s blessing. And he had Bill. Some things were even more important than being fast or winning.
Revver looked into Bill’s face and blinked. A sparkle began to return to the squirrel’s small black eyes.
“Tell you what, little Revver: we’re getting packed up and ready to head out after a while. ‘Another place, another race’ next we
ekend, ya know. I’m pretty sure we can find room for you if you wanna come along with the team. You can rest up a bit. And when you’re ready, you can get back to helping out in the garage. And ol’ Jack thinks you should be our spotter from the pits on race days—you know, to keep an eye on things. After all, it wouldn’t be right to leave one of our own behind after all you did for us.”
Revver felt the big knot inside start to disappear.
“Oh, and hey,” Bill went on. “Since it seems like you have a hankering for speed, I suppose we can sneak you a ride in the car once in a while—you know, so you stay out of trouble in the garage?” Bill winked.
Revver sat up.
“You sure are somethin’, little Revver. So, whaddaya say? You wanna join the crew?”
Revver was excited by the idea! But then he thought harder. I’d be leaving. I’d be going far, far away—from Mama and my brothers . . . and from Sprite.
Revver put his head back on the ground and closed his eyes. He dug through his brain burrow to see if there was anything in there that could help him. Finally, he found it: Everything is connected to everything else.
He thought hard about this. He thought about how he’d loved racing and cars before he could remember anything else. He remembered the dream and hearing Sprite calling for help. He thought hard about his family. He thought about Sprite and how she knew he was happy. We’ll always be connected, he thought. I’m connected to racing, but I’m connected to my family, too. Being apart doesn’t change anything. Almost as if Sprite were standing right in front of him, Revver clearly heard her voice: You HAVE to go. It’s your dream. You can’t give up your dream. Be brave.
Revver jumped to his feet and began chattering. “I’d LOVE to be part of the team! No one in my family ever understood how much I love cars and racing and going fast—but you, YOU and the rest of the crew, you are like me. You understand.” Revver went on. “So do you think the team might be able to get a matching fire suit to fit me? Does anyone make very tiny tools? And I was thinking that I could use a five-point harness, you know, for safety. Or maybe . . .” But Revver stopped when he saw Bill’s expression, and remembered that Bill could not understand one word of Squirrel.
Revver steadied himself with both feet, clenched his fists, inhaled deeply, and said, “Vr-vr-vr-VRRROOOOM!”
Bill laughed. “Yep. You sure are somethin’, little guy. I’m gonna assume that’s a yes.”
Revver nodded, better than any squirrel had ever nodded, ever: a very, VERY human nod.
Bill laughed again and picked Revver up from the ground. He placed Revver on his shoulder, and Revver held on tightly as they walked away. “So, buddy, I gotta ask you,” Bill said. He kept walking as he looked up at Revver. “Was that you who broke the toilet and flooded the place?”
Revver hesitated. Then he gave one very SMALL nod, admitting what he’d done.
Bill shook his head and laughed. “Okay, bud, I’ll tell you what. We’ll keep that between us. I convinced Jack that was just a coincidence. But you gotta promise me that won’t happen again, okay? You made a heck of an awful mess. Toilets are not toys. Got it?”
Revver thought about the white machine with the water that he now knew had the name “toilet.” He nodded. Then Revver wrote a note for his brain burrow, Toilets are not toys, and he filed the idea safely away.
They headed toward the infield garage to pack up and head out for the next track. Revver’s adventures were just beginning.
In the surrounding trees, Revver’s mother, brothers, and sister had watched it all through their own acorn binoculars.
“Brothers.” Sprite sighed—sad to see Revver leaving but mostly very happy. Sprite was, after all, a lot stronger than she looked.
Mama, Bounce, Farty, Sprite, and Revver were all smiling—as best as squirrels can smile. Finally, after a long while, the whole family went back to their very squirrelly activities . . . gathering nuts, bouncing, and swinging through the trees.
All except one.
Acknowledgments
I owe so much to so many people who helped make this, my first novel (SQUEE!!!), possible!
For William Campana, our personal NASCAR insider, my tech advisor, and a wonderful friend to our family—and to Revver. Bill, you are amazing, and I owe you a debt of gratitude.
For Chris Buescher, thank you for a front-row view from the pits and for welcoming us and “Little Zak” into your racing family. Zak still races #60 in honor of you and those amazing experiences. We’re so proud to know you and thrilled for all of your success; we’re cheering for you every race weekend. We wish you Godspeed and checkered flags, always.
For Cissa Barbosa, Nancy Mansfield, Stacy McAnulty, and all three Rinker boys—for reading and critiquing from the earliest (awful!) drafts. (And, Stacy, thank you for going to bat for me with Lori to help Farty keep his name.) Thanks also to Andie Detzel, Ben Michael, and Claire Lewandowski for last-minute read-throughs.
For Maya Myers, I’m grateful for your guidance and assistance.
Lori Kilkelly, my incredible agent, advocate, therapist, and friend: so many wonderful things have happened in my career because you led the way. Thank you for encouraging this project based on a pitch that, I’m sure, sounded crazy. Thank you for all the ways you “get” me. I’m beyond grateful for your support and encouragement. You’re equally kind and tough as nails, and I’m thankful for both sides of you.
Alex Willan, thank you for illustrating this book; I could not be more thrilled.
For Mary Kate Castellani, my fabulous editor: you are a wonder. I’m so, SO blessed that you agreed to take on this rookie and this crazy idea and nurture Revver and his story through your ideas and insights. Delving into the life of this squirrel family came at a time I truly needed the diversion; your support and patience helped more than you can know.
With so many thanks to my amazing Bloomsbury team! Ksenia Winnicki, Faye Bi, Erica Barmash, Lily Yengle, Beth Eller, Jasmine Miranda, Allison Moore, Oona Patrick, Nick Sweeney, Melissa Kavonic, and everyone else who worked on this book.
For Nancy Rinker, my proofreader and cheerleader, thank you for being “Mom” to me.
For Zak Rinker, my brown-eyed boy: your wit, your love of speed, and your passion for anything with a motor has inspired me in a million ways.
For my oldest son, Ben, who, at the age of four, taught us one of life’s most important truths: everything is connected to everything else.
And, for Faith.
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First published in the United States of America in September 2020
by Bloomsbury Children’s Books
Text copyright © 2020 by Sherri Duskey Rinker
Illustrations copyright © 2020 by Alex Willan
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Rinker, Sherri Duskey, author. | Willan, Alex, illustrator.
Title: Revver the speedway squirrel / by Sherri Duskey Rinker ; illustrated by Alex Willan.
Description: New Yor
k : Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 2020.
Summary: Revver the squirrel dreams of being a race car driver—or at least a member of the pit crew—but his squirrel survival lessons have taught him nothing about engines.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020007343 (print) | LCCN 2020007344 (e-book)
ISBN: 978-1-5476-0362-6 (eBook)
Subjects: CYAC: Squirrels—Fiction. | Automobile racing—Fiction. | Pit crews—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.R476 Rev 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.R476 (e-book) | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020007343
Book design by Jeanette Levy
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Revver the Speedway Squirrel Page 9