by Jackson Kane
I sat down on the room’s one beat-up couch and iced my aching balls. I must’ve been out of my mind letting her in here. It was like inviting someone to walk through your childhood.
When I agreed to let her train here, I promised myself she wouldn’t ever be allowed in this room. No one, aside from Frost, ever was- and he never came by. He didn’t like reliving the past either. And despite our animosity I’d have let Keats in of course, but he’d never talk to me again. If anyone had a rightful stake to everything in here it’d be Keats.
Posters, faded framed photos, banners, and giant letters with blocky western font that read things like “WALL OF DEATH” and “LEGENDARY HELL RIDERS” and “DEATH-DEFYING THRILLS” lined the walls of a room big enough to hold all three stunt cars, two motorcycles and enough space to work on them. The place was littered with decades of dusty, half-remembered memories.
No, this wasn’t a museum. It was a mausoleum—a magnificent tomb for our family’s tarnished legacy.
It was ironic that it was our greatest talents and ultimate success that destroyed the Tellers. We ended up being the villains in every story, both on and off camera.
“Wow. Was this your father’s racing suit?” Autumn leaned in to inspect the mannequin I had set up with Crash’s outfit. It was a full-body set up with his scratched helmet, bare-in-spots leather jacket over army-green jumpsuit and beat-to-shit, black boots. She went to pinch the leather on the jacket’s cuff, but stopped not knowing if she was allowed to.
“Go ahead,” I said, studying her. “There’s nothing you can do to it that thirty years of barnstorming across the country hasn’t done already.”
For as personal as it all was, seeing the wonder in Autumn’s eyes made me happy…and a little jealous. I wish I could be that excited again. The look of awe she had walking around the room reminded me of the first time I saw one of my father’s shows in person.
Autumn was strikingly beautiful in that moment with her wet clothes and flattened brown hair. The clothes matted against her trim body sharply defining her edges, her sweet, little nipples and the indent of her belly button. Despite the numbness in my crotch from the hit and the ice, blood started pumping to my cock and warming me up.
Having her in here walking through and genuinely being interested in all this warmed other parts of me too. I’d spent so long keeping people at arm’s length that sharing this part of my life was intimate almost to the point of taboo. Since I started collecting my father’s stuff no one had ever been in this room before today.
“This stuff is so cool!” Autumn walked around the white painted wooden ramps and blocks that used to launch cars hundreds of feet through the air. She flipped through a few thick books of photos, old newspaper clippings and fair brochures where Crash headlined.
I grabbed a clean shop towel, an old, unworn thrill show T shirt and pair of sweatpants from the cabinet on the other side of the cars and bikes. The clothes weren’t glamorous, but at least they were dry.
“You’ll have to go commando until you get back to your room,” I said, handing everything to her.
“Thanks,” she said, her big, brown eyes beaming. She met me over by the mostly restored jump car. “Reminds me a little of laundry day when Mom isn’t around.”
“Your mom still does your laundry?”
“Not always!” Looking surprised at herself for blurting out that tidbit, Autumn back peddled. “She borrows a lot of my clothes, because I’m so fashionable.”
“Right.” I turned around to let her change out of the wet clothes.
“What kind of car is this? It looks crazy old.”
“It’s the same nineteen-thirty-seven Plymouth my grandfather had.” It took a long time, but the body was finally back to perfect. I’d just installed the new fender, replaced the headlights and put in the windshield. All I had to do now was fire up the engine and hope for the best.
“All set.” She handed me her wet clothes. The printed T shirt was two sizes too large and the sweats were baggy enough to fit another person in. She planted a hand on her hip and gave me an exaggerated pose. “Supermodels beware. How do I look?”
Maybe I was blind or biased, but somehow she kept getting prettier. Something about the way she smiled and pouted and generally bounced around made me want all of her, not just her body. I couldn’t describe how much I loved seeing her in frumpy thrill show swag.
I never thought I’d ever let anyone in this room, now I couldn’t image being in here without her.
“Perfect," I said in all honesty, and watched Autumn immediately start blushing. She dropped the runway model act and turned away, but not before I saw a beautiful smile spread across her face.
I loved that smile more than I ever thought I could.
“I’m so sorry about your… Are they feeling better?” Autumn asked timidly while picking up a framed picture of my father’s car flying over an old milk truck.
“They’ll survive.” I balled up the cold pack and tossed it at the far wall.
“‘Crash Teller and the Death Chasers’. Nice.” Autumn ran her fingers along the thick blue stripe with white stars that ran down the center of the car. My father’s nickname was red lettering and it popped over the traditional white paint. “I love the design. Very retro.”
“I found one of his original stencil kits.” I placed my free hand on the hood. Of all the things I was restoring in here, I was most proud of this car. I chuckled. “It wasn’t retro back then. I’m sure they found it unironically cool.”
“Heh, yeah. That makes sense.” She spun in a slow circle taking in the room again. “You should open this place up to the public! I’m sure people would come here in droves and pay to see all this.”
I shook my head. I had no interest in letting anyone else know where I lived, too many people knew already. And if that info ever got into the wrong hands…I didn’t want to think about that.
“I take it you didn’t read the whole story about what happened.”
“I just heard it was bad…” Autumn paused, trying to find the most tactful way of continuing. “Some kind of malfunction, I think?”
“Crash was attempting to set a ramp-to-ramp jump record. Spectators heard his car misfiring as he approached the ramp, but he tried to jump anyway. The Plymouth fell short, hitting the landing ramp at windshield height. He died instantly in front of thousands of fans and millions of TV and internet viewers.” I had to take a moment to fully collect myself. I’d never had to tell this story to anyone before. The people that knew he was my father never asked me about it.
“My father was reckless and dangerous toward the twilight of his career. Even my lunatic brother, Keats, walked away from him at the end. Crash’s hubris and hunger to stay in the spotlight didn’t just kill him it killed the whole thrill show industry. New safety laws were enacted because of what happened and that pissed almost everyone off. Thrill show daredevils around the country were effectively castrated from doing all the exciting stunts, which led to a nosedive in ticket sales.
“When my father died—the selfish bastard that he was—he took the whole industry down with him.”
“I had no idea. I guess that’s not the kind of attention you’re looking for.” Autumn pulled her mouth to the side and tugged at her ear, feeling a little embarrassed. She looked from the car to me hesitantly. “Was this the same kind of car that your dad…”
“Died in?” I finished her thought. “It’s fine.”
People died all the time. Good people, bad people, it didn’t matter. I kept those dark thoughts and the hard memories to myself like always.
“Yeah.” The idea of a dead parent really bothered Autumn. I understood of course. With everything going on with her mother I could imagine that frightening possibility was never far from her mind.
“I salvaged what I could from his wreck. It took about three years to fabricate or buy all the original parts, but it’ll be done soon.”
“The same exact car? Wow.” Autumn’s mou
th dropped as she looked over the car again. If she wasn’t told she’d never be able to tell that it had ever been damaged. Something dark crossed her mind that made her body shiver. “I saw the pictures online. There wasn’t much left. Of the car, I mean.”
“Yeah. Between the impact and the fire, I basically bought several tons useless twisted metal.” I took a deep breath to ward away memories of first seeing the mangled wreck in person. I didn’t want to scare her with the details. The worst part was having to deal with all the blood and blackened remains the coroner didn’t take. “It was…difficult.”
I looked away, feeling an unexpected rush of loss. That dull pain of losing someone important never fully disappeared. It just went dormant for long periods of time. I ran a hand over my face and through my hair.
Christ, with all the friends and family I’d lost, I should be better at this by now.
Autumn caught my hand on the way back down and offered a warm, gentle smile that cut through my lingering grief. She might not be able to relate, but it was really nice to believe that she might give a damn. “Does it run?”
“Huh?” I cleared my throat and blinked, forcing my eyes to dry out. “That’s a great question.” I honestly didn’t know. I’d just finished repairing the engine last night, but was too exhausted to try it and find out it needed more work. Or maybe I was afraid of actually hearing it start up. It was one thing to work on something important, but finishing it?
What could I possibly move on to after a project like this?
“You want to find out with me?” I smiled weakly, slowly blowing out the rest of my air. It was harder than it should’ve been to get the words out.
“Definitely!” She replied immediately. Her excitement was contagious and comforting. I’d been dreading this moment, but having her here made it less scary. I cocked my head for her to get in the driver’s side. “Seriously?” Her awkward downward smile was all teeth as she waited for my reassuring nod. “Yay!”
Autumn carefully put the towel down to not get the bench-style seat wet. I slid in next to her from the other side and told her how to start it. I placed the key in her hand and told her to cross her fingers. Years of hard work boiled down to this one moment.
Autumn bit the corner of her lip and reverently slipped the key into the ignition. Good or bad, I really liked sharing this moment with her. It was hard to explain, but doing this alone would’ve been difficult.
There was a suspenseful delay as the engine struggled to turn over, but then it caught and roared to life.
The engine was running too loud and would need some fine tuning, but that was only a few hours of work. Soon I’d have it purring like it just came off the assembly line.
“It’s incredible!” She shouted excitedly, flashing that incredible smile of hers. It was impossible not to get lost in the glee spreading across her pretty face. I exhaled, feeling tingles running up my back and resolved to just enjoy this small triumph with her.
“Go ahead, back it out.” I easily convinced her. She hesitantly put it into reverse, laid an arm along the seat behind my head and slowly pulled out.
“This is so cool!” She cheered. When we cleared the garage I gave her a brief tutorial on how to shift gears on a manual, then instructed her to turn to the left and put it in first. The car jerked forward as she struggled to get the foot work right, then stalled out completely. “Aww. Less cool.”
“Slow is fast. Take your time and figure it out. You got this.” I reached over and started the car back up. Autumn did a little better this time, but the car stalled out just after driving past the garage door entrance. The nose of the car was now closely parallel to the building. If I opened my passenger door it might clip the barn doors to the attached horse stables.
That’s how all this got started— Me and Autumn and whatever this was. I absently rubbed the spot on my shoulder where the mustang kicked me, feeling a line of stitches that would be coming out soon. Fucking around with the Plymouth definitely would’ve spooked the horses; it was a good thing I turned them out this morning.
I turned the ignition again, but I could tell she was all set with giving it another try. Leaving the engine running, we rolled up the windows, blocking out most of the engine’s thunderous noise and trapping in all the old memories. The car’s vibration mixed with the lingering scent of oil and familiar feel of worn fabric giving me a powerful dose of nostalgia.
“I was a little kid the first time my father ever drove me around in this car.” I closed my eyes, the decades old excitement creasing the corner of my lips.
“This was before Frost was born, Keats was still a toddler.” Opening my eyes I glanced over at Autumn, who smiled warmly and gave me her undivided attention. “It was my first day of elementary school and I was in full-on tantrum mode. Bribes, threats, none of it worked. No matter what Mom tried I refused to go.” I leaned in to Autumn. “Between you and me, I was scared.”
“So you were stubborn even back then?” Autumn’s smile spread wider.
“If anything, I was worse.” I chuckled. “Finally, losing his patience, Dad grabbed me and my little backpack and unceremoniously dumped me in the Plymouth. He had it towed in from my grandfather’s storage unit the summer before. I was too young to help him, but he let me bring him tools and ask him too many questions while he worked on it.
“He told me If I stopped crying, he’d let me drive to school. My tantrum didn’t last long after that.” I blew out my air in a burst and raised my eyebrows. “I sat on his lap and steered the whole way. The school gave him some serious shit for it when they saw us pull in, but it was worth it. I was the coolest kid in my school for years because of that.”
“That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” Autumn said. “I think your dad would’ve loved seeing this car come back to life.”
“Him and I had a complicated relationship.” I spared her a quick glance. “In fact, the last time I heard this car fire up was the day I ran away. My father was out here in the shop changing the oil. We’d just got into a massive fight about his decision to remarry less than a year after Mom died. I just couldn’t handle him forgetting about her so quickly so I packed a backpack and stole one of his bikes and took off. When I rode past that open garage door to get out onto the road we shared a moment in the split second.” I pointed toward the open bay we’d walked through to get in. “My look told him ‘I was leaving forever’, and his said, ‘good riddance’.
“That was the last time I ever saw him until they had me come in and identify his body after that big crash.” It was a few years ago now, but I still remembered every second of that day in the morgue.
“God, that’s awful,” Autumn said after a long pause. “Your bothers couldn’t do that?”
“Frost flat out refused. He wasn’t all that close to Dad either. And Keats… Well, Keats kind of turned off for a while. I think he was too close to Dad to be able to deal with that.” I shrugged. “It made sense that I do it.”
We sat in silence for a little just listening to the engine.
“If Keats was the closest to your Dad, then why did he leave everything to you and not your brother?” Autumn asked.
“I don’t know.” Breathing became harder. I snorted, cracking a defensive half grin. I desperately drove down the swell of feelings that flooded me, but it was like trying to fight back the tide. The grief was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Life’s great mysteries, huh?”
“Your father sounded like a proud man. Maybe he knew he couldn’t say what he felt in life so he it said it the only way he knew how.” Autumn stuttered with emotion, but got herself to push through it. “Maybe—maybe it was his way of apologizing to you for not being there when you needed him?”
I started several times, but my words failed me. I had to look away. My fists clenched tight enough to whiten and crack all my knuckles. I fought the urge put my hands through the dashboard, but it was only a matter of time before all that emotion had to vent.
&nbs
p; You’re not a child anymore. I reprimanded myself for the mounting weakness. I relived all the hard lessons Mitch beat into me. Do not fucking cry. Never again.
I thought that restoring this car was my way of grieving for my father, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. This was just another distraction; a way for me to avoid everything for a little while longer. Now with this car finished all those regrets crushed me like a rock slide.
Autumn’s eyebrows pushed together and angled up in a look of compassion that made me gasp in air. She took my hand and placed it on her lap. Her newly calloused hands were so beautiful in their own right; a testament to how hard she fought for what she wanted. I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her, how much I admired her strength but I didn’t know how.
For being so skilled in so many things, I was such a mess in the things that really mattered. Anger and selfishness drove me to my goals and allowed me to not care about anyone. More than all the dangerous stunts I’d ever done, I knew that it was vulnerability that was going to get me killed.
Being with Autumn was a mistake on every level.
“Hey,” she said in a whisper, quiet voice thick with understanding. It rattled all my hardwired defenses. I was a knight returning home from a long, bloody war and Autumn was there peeling off my battered, metal armor piece by piece. She gently opened my fists and said something I hadn’t heard since I was a small boy, something that utterly tore me apart. “It’s OK.”
And for the first time in forever it actually felt like it. So much so that I lowered my head and quietly started to cry.
Autumn wrapped her arms around me and pulled me tighter than anyone ever had, comforting me as I wept. When the massive swell of pain had finally past I saw what was truly in front of me this whole time.
I think I loved her.
I kissed Autumn like the world was crashing down around us. In a rumbling classic car, chock full of some of the best and worst memories of my life, she and I added our own history to it.