by Storm, Sloan
I smiled at him. “Yeah, I think so. Having Dyson’s family here with me really helped.”
Marco looked past me in their direction. “Yes, they are good people.”
After he finished speaking, Marco leaned in towards me and we hugged briefly before he turned and walked away.
Once he had, I began to walk over and rejoin Dyson’s family again, when one of the doctors that worked on Dyson, Dr. Miller, appeared through a set of double doors. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him.
After entering, he motioned for everyone to gather around.
“I just wanted to update all of you about the condition of Mr. Vix,” Dr. Miller began, moving his eyes among all who’d gathered around. “The good news is he’s stable and resting comfortably. He doesn’t have any life-threatening injuries. We’re still in the process of examining him for internal bleeding or hemorrhaging. Otherwise, he is exhibiting some symptoms of concussion. Once we’ve completed our testing, you’ll be allowed to visit with him.”
He paused for a moment, searching the faces in front of him for any sign of confusion. “Does anyone have any questions for me?”
“How soon can we see him?” Dyson’s mother asked.
Dr. Miller looked down towards his arm, flicking his wrist and checking his watch. “Um, fifteen minutes or so?”
Dyson’s mother smiled and thanked him.
“Anyone else?” Dr. Miller asked.
We all exchanged brief glances with each other before shaking our heads in collective response. With that, Dr. Miller nodded, turned and exited through the double doors once again.
Over the next several minutes, it was decided Dyson’s mother and father, Marco and I would be the first people to visit him. A half-hour later, we made our way to Dyson’s room and walked inside.
Dyson lay there barely awake.
Still in shock, Dyson’s parents rushed to their son’s side. Mary started to cry, leaning in towards her son and hugging him. Doug remained stoic, reaching down and placing his hand on Dyson’s shoulder instead. While I looked on, Marco reached up and placed his palm flat against my upper back, rubbing it.
“Come on,” he began, gesturing towards Dyson. “Let’s see how this lunatic is doing.”
A few moments later, I stood next to Dyson and looked down at him.
More than anything, I wanted to reach down and hug him as tight as I could and pepper his face with ten thousand kisses. But, that wasn’t going to happen, not anytime soon.
That was one half of me.
The other half wanted to strangle and slap him with every ounce of strength I could muster.
After everything we’d said to each other, for him to turn around and do something like this! I didn’t know what to make of it, but it hurt me, more than I probably even realized in the moment.
“Good to see you are still with us,” Marco said.
Dyson glanced at his teammate, “You’re not going to get rid of me that easy.”
The two men chuckled for a second or two and then Dyson looked at me. “Hey. You okay?”
Still muddled in my thoughts, I nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”
“Dyson,” his father began. “Have you gotten any updates from the doctor?”
Dyson spent the next minute or so explaining they wanted to hold him overnight for observation. However, if everything went well, they would release him sometime the following afternoon.
“Are you cleared to drive?” Marco asked.
“If they release me, you can bet your ass I’ll be driving. Where did I finish on the grid?”
I shook my head as he talked to Marco. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was he actually planning on racing? Marco went on to explain that they’d closed the track for a while after his crash, but the cars had started running again. Even so no one was faster than Dyson, not even Gunter.
Dyson dropped his head into the pillow, smiling in silence.
“You’re not really going to drive are you?” I asked.
Dyson rolled his head on the pillow and looked up at me. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, for starters, even if they clear you to leave the hospital, you’ve still got symptoms of a concussion. Those can take days, weeks or even months to fully present themselves.”
Dyson waved me off. Just then, the door to his room opened, and Darren appeared.
“I appreciate what you’re saying,” Dyson began, not breaking his gaze on me. “But if they cut me loose, I’m racing. Nothing is going to prevent it.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” Darren said, walking inside the room and heading towards all of us.
Dyson shook his head and exhaled. “Don’t start, Darren. Really, I don’t even want to see you right now.”
Marco positioned himself between Dyson and Darren, extending one arm in Darren’s direction.
“Hey guys, not right now. Save it for the track.”
Darren glared at Marco but stopped walking.
“What did I tell you, Dyson?” Darren began, pointing at his driver. “I warned you about pushing it, and now look. Look at what you’ve done.”
Dyson pointed right back at him. “What you talking about? All I did was qualify in first place. That’s what I’m paid to do. Win. But, you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”
“Watch it.” Darren snarled. “I’ve got the authority to suspend you, and you know it.”
“So go ahead and do it already, Darren!” Dyson exclaimed. “You keep threatening me with it, but you’re the same way as a manager that you were as a racer… no balls.”
Marco snapped his head in Dyson’s direction. “Hey Dyson, that’s enough.”
Darren looked at Dyson and shook his head. “Last warning. The next time you do anything like this, you’re off the team.”
With that, Darren turned and stormed out of Dyson’s hospital room. The door hissed closed behind him. Once it did, we all glanced at one another in silence.
AVA
As Dyson hoped, the doctors released him from the hospital and cleared him to drive. However, prior to his dismissal, Dr. Miller shared the results of Dyson’s concussion symptoms with me.
We agreed I would monitor him for any change over the next several days. He was clear about his concern Dyson be forced to abandon the race if any of the symptoms began to worsen. The morning of the race, Dyson’s family joined us in the team garage while the mechanics made last-minute adjustments to the car. After a bit of small talk, Dyson’s father brought up the subject of Darren and the fight they had in the hospital.
Dyson shrugged. “We worked it out. Everything is okay for now. We’ve agreed to just focus on the race.”
I frowned. Considering the way they’d been at each other’s throats, over the past week or so especially, the revelation caught me by surprise.
“So does that mean that you’re going to change the way you drive?” I asked.
Dyson stopped, turning to look at me before he replied. “What do you think?”
We all exchanged a series of uneasy glances with each other.
“What?” Dyson asked. He crossed his arms. “Look, I know you’re all worried, but I’m telling you, I’ve got it under control. What happened the other day was a fluke. There’s only one way to win out here, and I know better than anyone what that is.”
“I’m not trying to start a fight with you, Dyson.” I said.
He nodded. “That’s good, because that’s not something I need right now. The crash is a thing of the past. I’ve got a short memory.”
I decided to drop the subject and instead proceeded to check and make sure he wasn’t having any issues related to his concussion.
“Well,” I began, finishing up my brief examination a few minutes later. “You look to be okay right now. But remember, this type of injury can be tricky. If you have any problems at all, you’re going to have to come out of the race. It’s just too dangerous oth
erwise. Do you understand?”
“Yep,” he said, zipping up his fire suit. “I hear you loud and clear.”
Right around that time, Dyson’s family entered the garage and made their way towards us. We spent the next several minutes making small talk and wishing Dyson good luck. Afterward, his family made their way to the stands. Because of Dyson’s situation, Dieter and Darren insisted I remain with the team in the pits, in case something happened with him.
Within a couple of hours, the race was well underway. Although Gunter held the lead for most of the early laps, Dyson and Marco were right with him. However, after Dyson’s second pit stop, I happened to notice Darren once again showed frustration in the observation tower.
Over the next twenty minutes or so, Dyson began to fall further and further back, losing touch with the race leaders. Before long, he was outside of the top ten, then the top fifteen. By the time he’d dropped out of the top twenty, Darren was in a near rage.
He turned, and scanned the pits until our eyes met.
He motioned for me to approach the observation tower. I made my way to it, and after I climbed up, Darren gestured for me to lift my ear protection.
“Do you see what’s happening out there?” he yelled.
I nodded and yelled back at him, barely able to talk over the sound of the cars roaring past. “Yes. What’s wrong with him?”
“Dyson told me he’s having double vision and feeling disoriented.”
My stomach sank with those words.
There was little question the concussion was the underlying factor. My guess was that it wasn’t an issue until he was in a racing situation, where the stress was much higher.
Realizing instantly what needed to be done, I shook my head and leaned in towards Darren. “He needs to abandon! And he needs to do it right away!”
Visibly upset, Darren nodded his head in agreement. He turned away from me to give Dyson the news. I slipped the cup of the headphone back over the top of my ear. While I watched Darren talk over race radio, I noticed he began to shake his head back and forth, gesturing with his hands as well. Within a matter of seconds, he turned around towards me.
Darren made a motion with his hand for me to lift the headphones again. After I did, he leaned in to my ear.
“Dyson said he’s fine and that he’s not coming in!”
I shook my head, furious he’d disobeyed my order. After all, we’d agreed on it, and this was not a situation to take a chance on.
“You need to get him off the track, Darren!” I yelled.
I edged closer to Darren, trying to listen in to the conversation as best I could through the muted muffle of the headphones.
“Dyson, what the hell are you doing?” Darren exclaimed. “You know the deal with the doctors. Get out of there now!”
Darren went silent for a moment. The only sound I detected was the high-pitched whine of the engines roaring by in the background.
At last, he spoke again.
“No, you aren’t fine! Dyson… You’re not listening to me. Your judgment is impaired. You need to abandon the race!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dyson was deliberately going back on his word, on what he’d promised me he’d do.
“Dyson, forget about Gunter and the points! If you don’t get off the track now, you could crash. Is that what you want?”
Chewing my lip, I crossed my arms at my chest.
“Dyson,” Darren began, waiting for him to respond. “Dyson… Dyson!”
Darren looked up for a few seconds before turning to face me. Dyson had turned off the radio. I didn’t even hear the background noise of the engines any longer.
I didn’t hear anything.
Darren shook his head.
Just then, a sickening groan rippled through the crowd. Instantly, we looked at one another and then turned our attention to the Jumbotron. There, at the far end of the track, was Dyson’s car, against the wall and billowing a horrific cloud of smoke and flame.
“Dyson!” I screamed, covering my mouth. “Oh my God! Dyson!”
DYSON
Two hours after the crash I was back in my motor coach.
I guess I had to consider myself lucky.
Again.
I had no idea where things stood with Darren and me. For now though, I had to talk to Ava, and I didn’t want to waste any time. In the aftermath of the accident, I refused all visitors. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes. I’d already hammered back a couple of beers before Ava showed up.
In fact, I was in the midst of my third when there was a knock on the door.
Still aching, I eased myself into a standing position. A few seconds later I approached the door.
The knock came again before I could.
“Hang on!” I groaned. “Jesus!”
I wrapped my fingers around the handle, twisted it, and pushed it open. Ava stood there looking up at me, her face filled with concern. Behind her, the media surrounded her like a pack of wolves, snapping pictures and calling out my name. I stepped away from the open doorway and motioned for her to enter. Turning around, I began to walk back in the direction of the couch.
“Close the door behind you and lock it,” I said.
After I sat down, Ava did as I asked and a few seconds later she stood right in front of me.
“Oh my God, Dyson.” she began, stepping a bit closer to me. “I’ve been worried sick. Are you injured?”
I shook my head and straightened my arm towards her, showing her my palm. “Don’t come any closer.”
Ava leaned away from me. She frowned and glanced in the direction of the empty beer bottles.
“What’s wrong, Dyson?”
Nodding my head, I gestured for her to sit next to me. “Don’t worry about it. We need to talk.”
Ava sat. Crossing her legs at the knee, she leaned in and attempted to touch my forehead.
I jerked away from her.
“Don’t touch me.”
She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What is going on right now? I’m only making sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.” I replied, reaching for the half-empty third bottle of beer. I lifted it to my mouth, tilting it upwards and slugging back a couple of gulps.
She studied me while I drank. “Dyson…”
I waved her off.
Before she had a chance to say anything, I spoke, “I don’t want to waste any time here. I know it was you that ordered me off the track today.”
She leaned away from me. “Yeah, that’s right. Judging by the outcome, it’s pretty obvious it was the correct thing to do.”
I licked my lips, the bitter taste of beer on my tongue matched my dark mood. “No, the reason that I crashed was because Darren distracted me with all of that fucking discussion you were behind.”
Ava’s expression never changed. “Dyson, you know that’s not true. I’m not going to argue with you, but I have no doubt in my mind I did the right thing. I’m sorry, I don’t agree.”
I looked away from her, standing up. A rush of lightheadedness overwhelmed me. I felt like I might pass out. Ava noticed and jumped to her feet, grabbing me by the arm.
“Dyson, please be careful! If you fall and hit your head again, it could be…”
I yanked my arm free of her grip. “I’m fine.”
I turned and looked at her, noticing the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Don’t start that. What is it with all of you people? Between you, Darren, that shitty excuse for a car setup today… It’s like none of you want me to fucking win.”
I looked away from her, raising the bottle to my lips and slamming back the remainder of the beer. I threw the empty bottle across the room.
It smashed against the wall and shattered. “Christ!”
Ava remained silent.
I snapped my head in her direction. Her calmness irked me. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
“What you want me to say, Dyson?” sh
e began. “I did the right thing. What was I supposed to do? I don’t feel bad about it, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”
I shook my head and walked towards the refrigerator to get another beer.
In my peripheral vision I noticed Ava stand from the couch.
“I’m don’t have to stay here and take a bunch of crap from you, Dyson. When you’re ready to discuss this calmly, I’m available.”
Reaching inside the refrigerator, I pulled out another bottle and cracked it open. “Don’t hold your breath.”
The hurt look Ava had on her face earlier vanished.
Replacing it, a look of indifference. But at this point, I didn’t care. The only thing I wanted was to be left alone. Without saying a word, Ava walked out of the motor coach, slamming the door behind her.
For the next few minutes, I walked back and forth, covering the length of it.
Taking large gulps of my beer, I tried to figure out what the problem was. I didn’t really feel dizzy out there. Maybe a little lightheaded, but nothing that should’ve caused me the kinds of problems I had. I stopped for a moment and looked out the window at the reporters still hanging around.
Fucking vultures.
Sooner or later I’d have to deal with all their ridiculous questions. I’d seen it before when guys get on a bad run. They always want to say you’ve lost your edge, your nerve. I took another gulp of my beer. People like that, out there, they had no idea what pressure was all about. The first one of them that accused me of losing it was going to be the last one.
This wasn’t anything I couldn’t shake off. I took one final swig of my beer and placed a bottle down on the counter. Releasing it, I glanced down at my hand and noticed something I’d never seen before.
It shook.
AVA
It was just past seven o’clock in the morning, the day after the race in Los Angeles and my fight with Dyson.
I woke up from a sound sleep to the annoying sound of my cell phone ringing and vibrating on the nightstand next to me. Eyes closed, I groped for it, at last picking it up and looking at it.
Dieter.
I sat up in bed, switching on the table lamp in my hotel room before swiping the screen and answering the call.