by Jack July
“Dr. Pepper, Amy’s favorite.” He popped the top and took a drink then said, “Where’s our driver?”
Suddenly a shadow appeared over Bogus and a deep voice said, “Right behind ya.”
Bogus stood, turned around and looked up. Six foot six inches and two hundred and thirty pounds of Joseph Braxton looked down at him. Joe held out his hand and said, “Hi. I’m Joe, Amy’s brother. You must be the boyfriend.”
“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Bogus,” he said while they shook hands.
“Where’s that accent from, and why do you look familiar to me?” asked Joe.
“My accent?” Bogus laughed. “Well, let’s just say it’s a blend of European accents.”
Joseph’s business partner, his Aunt Carla Jo, strongly suggested he read business periodicals. It didn’t take him long to recognize who he was looking at. “I know who you look like, that Billionaire, Zlin, Zlin…”
Bogus interrupted him and said “Zielinski, Boguslaw Zielinski.” Then he removed his hat.
“Yeah, that’s it, Bogusl… Wait, no way.” Joseph looked at his Dad and uncle, who were both nodding their heads.
Bogus was good at breaking that trance. He patted Joe on the back and said, “Come, young man, show me your car.”
“Yeah, sure, um, okay,” said Joe, still a little star struck. They walked around it while Joe told Bogus all the specs. Bogus asked questions and before long, Joe was comfortable with him. “Braxton Trucking?” Bogus inquired, pointing to the sponsor on the quarter panel. “Is that your company?”
“Yes, Sir. My Aunt Carla Joe and I purchased it while it was struggling. We haul coal from the mines to small local power plants without rail service, and to the barges on the river.”
“Really, so, how did you turn it around?”
“Well, the trucks were old and maintenance was bleeding our cash, so we leased three new Mack trucks, and slowly took the old ones out of service. Once they were all replaced, our overhead dropped by a third. It’s a fixed cost and that makes it easier to plan. The leasing company takes care of maintenance, and we trade them in every two years. That keeps us reliable and our customers happy.”
“Well, those are all good business moves. You know, at Zielinski Logistics we have six 747’s; five are leased and I own one. We keep that one parked half of the time for that same reason, maintenance. You are making good decisions.”
“Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.”
“Just call me Bogus; you know we may be brothers soon.”
Joseph smiled and said, “That works for me.” Then the smile left his face and he said, “I’m only gonna warn you one time.”
“I know,” Bogus interrupted, “don’t hurt your sister because…”
“No, no that ain’t it.”
“What then?”
“Don’t piss her off. You don’t ever want to see her pissed off. When she gets that way, I’m afraid of her. You seem like a nice man...just a warning.”
Bogus nodded his head and said, “Well thank you for the warning. I will work hard to ensure her happiness.” Bogus sat back down and Joseph sat on the cooler. Bogus casually said, “You know, I own a race team.”
Leon said under his breath, “Well hell, of course you do.”
“What series?” asked Joseph.
“Formula One. We have two cars in partnership with Mercedes Benz. Joseph? Have you ever driven an F1 car?”
“No.”
“Would you like to?”
“NO,” said Jack and Leon. “He needs to focus on what he is doin’, but thank you for the offer,” said Leon.
“I certainly understand that,” said Bogus.
They sat quietly for a few moments when Bogus asked, “So, what comes next?”
“Next?” replied a confused Joseph.
“Yes, you know, when you master this form of motorsport, what’s next?”
“Oh, well, hopefully a NASCAR series, Trucks or Grand National. I still have a lot to learn.”
“He might be ready after next year,” said Jack while Leon nodded in agreement.
“What does it take to move up?”
“Money, a whole ass full of money,” said Joseph.
“Well, young man, from what I see of your business acumen, you will do fine,” said Bogus.
Over the loudspeaker the track announcer said, “All drivers, report for mandatory drivers’ meeting. Qualifying begins in thirty minutes.”
“Gotta go. Thanks Dad, thanks Uncle Jack and good to meet you Bogus.”
“You too Joe.”
As Joe jogged to the check-in booth, Bogus said to Leon, “He’s a smart young man.”
“Yeah, he had his struggles but he’s comin’ along.”
Without warning Amy appeared and sat on Bogus’ lap, “Hello my love.”
“Well, hello to you.”
“Did’ja meet my brother?”
“Indeed, a fine young man.”
“He has his moments.”
“So your father was saying.”
Five large, rough-looking young men walked from behind the car hauler and passed close to Amy. One walked a little too close to Amy. She leaned toward him and punched him in the leg. “Ouch, dammit.” He turned to look and saw she was laughing. “Amy, shit, you’re home. Why you gotta be such a hard ass?”
“Hi, Josh,” said Amy with a mischievous grin. Josh was one of Joseph’s long time childhood friends. She roughed him and Joseph up regularly when they were kids.
Josh nodded and said, “Jack, Mr. Braxton.”
“Josh,” They both replied.
“Would you tell Joseph we’re here?”
“I will,” said Leon.
“Thank you, sir.” They turned and walked toward the beer tent.
Bogus asked, “Who are those young ruffians?”
Jack replied, “That’s Joseph’s crew.”
“Oh, they work on the car?”
“No,” said Amy.
“They change tires?”
“No,” said Amy.
“They cheer really loud?”
“Something like that,” said Amy, as they all started laughing.
“What?”
“Come on, let’s get something to eat. I have a new experience for you; track food.”
“Hmm, I have never eaten something called track food.”
She grabbed his hand, pulled him off the chair and said, “Oh, it’s a treat.”
Chapter 11
Meyer Braddock dialed the phone and waited. “Hellooo,” came the familiar drawn out answer.
“Hi, Countess, this is Meyer.”
“Hello, Meyer. I hope you are vell.”
“Yes, Countess. I have quit drinking, and I’m on my way to see the doctor.”
“Gaud, very gaud. Vat can I do for you?”
“I was um, just checking in. Everthing okay?”
“Meyer, do you not trust me?”
“No, oh no, I do, I just…”
“Meyer, you are afraid. You vant reassurance, no?”
“Yes, to be honest.”
“It’s guud dat you are honest with me. I like dat. Meyer, vee are looking for a perfect match. Vee vill find it. You must continue to care for yourself. Vee need time. You give us time, vee vill give you your life, a long life.”
“Thank you, Countess.”
“Meyer, I need vun million dollars in gold Krugerrands delivered to the same address vhere you sent your medical records. I must prepare your surgical team.”
“Yes, Countess, right away.”
“Guud. Thank you, Meyer. Guud bye.” The phone went dead.
Meyer hung up and called the bank.
An hour later Meyer sat in the office of Dr. Marcus Cates. After an examination Dr. Cates sa
id, “Well Meyer, the deterioration has slowed a bit. You’ve been taking care of yourself.
Meyer nodded his head and replied, “Yeah, I do need more time.”
“You seem in good spirits, not the spirit of a man who has little time left.”
“Yes, well, I have something to look forward to.”
“Wedding? Birthday? Graduation? Those are the things people seem to strive for.”
“No, I think I can beat this. I just need time.”
“You getting a liver will be a miracle, but optimism is good.”
Meyer smiled and nodded.
“Look, ah...you’re not going to do something stupid....”
“Like what?”
“Like paying some third-world butcher a fortune so you can die on some filthy South American operating slab.”
“No, I’ve contacted a friend who has introduced me to some people.”
“Carl Stinson?”
“Well, I’m not supposed to say.”
Dr. Cates nodded slowly and said, “Yeah, I’m also his GP. He got his heart, and whoever it was did a good job.”
Meyer smiled back a knowing smile. Dr. Cates said, “Hmm, well, I don’t know how he beat the system, but he did. Maybe you will too. Keep doing what you’re doing. We can probably get another four or five months out of you.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“See you in a couple weeks.” Then Doctor Cates stuttered a bit and said, “Hey, hey Meyer.”
“Yes.”
“You know, when Carl came back. He was a different man. A very different man.”
“How so?”
“I’m not sure, but the best way I can describe it, and I know this sounds crazy, but it’s like...someone took his soul.”
A little shock of fear tingled through Meyer’s chest, but he just said, “Yeah, okay, thanks Doc. I’ll see you later.” Meyer walked out and got into his car. He didn’t make it past the first bar.
Chapter 12
Amy and Bogus climbed the bleachers carrying a cardboard soda case tray filled with food. They sat next to Carla Jo, Carol, and Joseph’s girlfriend, Kelly Cook. Surrounding them were another couple dozen people wearing Braxton Racing T-Shirts. Amy passed out the food and introduced Bogus to her best friend from high school, Kelly.
“Bogus, this is my oldest friend, Kelly. Kelly, this is my fiancé, Bogus.”
Bogus flashed his dazzling smile and said, “Hello, my dear, how are you?”
“Hi,” she said as she shook his hand. “Your accent...are you from Europe?”
“Yes, Poland.”
Kelly paused to look at him closely and said, “Do I know you?”
“No my dear, I do not believe we have ever met.”
“Hmm, you seem familiar.”
Carla Jo, starry-eyed and snuggling, slid in next to him and said, “So, are you enjoying yourself?’
“Yes, very much, thank you.”
Amy looked past Bogus at her Aunt and gave an all right already look. Carla Jo sat up straight and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“No, no my dear, you are fine,” said Bogus as he put his arm around her and pulled her close. Carla Jo giggled, and Amy shook her head.
“Here, eat,” said Amy holding out a small paper tray.
“What is this?”
“Chili cheese fries.”
Bogus look skeptically into the tray before he slowly pulled out a fry bathed in cheese and chili, “What kind of cheese is this?”
“The orange kind,” said Amy.
“Hmm.” He took a bite. Amy watched him chew, laughed and said, “Well?”
“That’s probably the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten. However, I would like another.”
“I know, exactly. Here try this.”
“What is that? Food on a stick?”
“Yep. Dip it in this ketchup and take a bite.”
Bogus looked at it suspiciously, took a bite and chewed. He looked at it again and said, “Oh, what a surprise. There is some sort of meat product inside.”
“Yep, corn dog. What do ya think?”
“Also disgusting, but tasty.”
“Bogus, would you like to try some of my nachos?” asked Carla Jo.
Bogus gave her The Look and said, “I would love to try some of your nachos.”
Amy elbowed him in the ribs and said, “Would you stop it?”
Bogus laughed, tried a nacho and said, “Mmm, spicy.”
“Yeah. Look, why don’t you go back down with the men? I’m sure they’ll want to work on the car after qualifying,” said Amy.
“Okay,” he leaned in and gave her a kiss whispering, “I love you.”
She whispered back, “I love you too.”
Joseph qualified fifth. Amy came down to sit with Bogus on the small grandstands in the pits along the backstretch. Bogus was amazed by the small town pageantry: driver announcements, fireworks, invocation, national anthem, and parade laps. They snuggled close as the air began to cool and the action heated up.
Amy leaned in, gave him another kiss and said, “What do ya think so far.”
“This is fun. Does this happen only in Alabama?”
“No. Friday, Saturday, and sometimes like tonight on Sunday, this happens all over the country. What the rest of the world sees as America really isn’t. I know the world focuses its cameras on LA and New York, but that’s not us. Look around; these people aren’t pretty and fancy but they work hard, play hard and love their country. I’d like to think this is the best of America.”
Bogus nodded and Amy, eyes sparkling, said, “Okay, here we go!”
Joined by Jack and Leon, they stood and cheered with the rest of the fans as the cars stormed to the green flag and into the first turn. The Sargent Martin Colton 150, an annual fundraiser for the children of a local Marine killed in the Middle East, was a pitched battle between the top eight cars. Joseph let the leaders pull away a bit at the beginning. “Why has he fallen back?” Bogus shouted over the screaming engines.
“He’s saving his tires and brakes,” shouted Amy, “He’ll come back.”
On lap seventy-five, there was a mandatory pit stop. Jack, Leon and Bogus changed the tires and sent Joseph back out. Once again he fell back, but by lap one thirty he had made his way back to second, closing on his nemesis, Bill Davis, with Jerry Lockhardt tapping on his bumper from behind. With six laps to go, Joseph made his move. He dove low into turn one crowding Davis out of the way. Lockhardt followed him as he made the pass, dropping Davis to third. Davis charged back, hitting Lockhardt in the bumper going into three. Lockhardt spun, hit the wall, and the caution flag came out. “Did you see that? He wrecked him on purpose!” Bogus shouted.
From a few seats over a man shouted back, “He did not! He shoulda got the hell out of the way!”
Bogus stood and in his Queen’s English accent shouted, “You, sir, are mistaken!”
Amy, Jack and Leon began to laugh hysterically, and the man shouted at Bogus to “Sit down and shut up!”
“I will do no such thing!” Bogus shouted back.
Amy grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him down next to her and said, “Stop it. It’s racing, it’s okay. Trust me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Bogus was clearly excited. He looked at Amy, smiled and said, “I can’t believe what’s gotten into me.”
Amy laughed again and said, “It’s fixin’ to get interesting. Hang on.”
Caution flag laps usually don’t count in local short track racing, and now the green flag flew with four to go. Davis ran Joseph hard, and when the white flag came out signaling the final lap, Davis dove low, hitting Joseph’s car and shoved it out of the way. The crowd was going nuts as Joseph, clearly out for blood, chased Davis to turn three and, barely lifting off the gas, plowed into Davis�
��s bumper. The cars tangled and slid hard into the outside wall, as the yellow #70 driven by Willy Oliver passed on the bottom to take the checkered flag.
Jack grabbed Bogus by the shoulder and said, “Now you’re gonna see some shit.”
Amy took his arm and said, “Come with me. You’re not getting in this mess.”
“What mess?”
Joseph limped his broken car behind the hauler and scrambled out through the window. He threw his helmet into the back of the trailer and shouted, “THAT SON OF A BITCH IS GETTIN’ AN ASS WHIPPIN’!”
Track officials came to calm him down, but he was having none of it. Down pit road from their right came a pack of seven or eight extremely pissed-off men: Bill Davis and his crew. Joe stepped around the officials and shouted, “BRING IT, MOTHER FUCKERS!”
As they approached, Bogus said to Amy, “Stand back, my dear. I shall defend you.”
Amy shook her head and said, “That’s not gonna be a problem.”
From their left Josh and his crew followed Joseph. As the two groups came together, insults were thrown, then fists. Bogus started foward, saying to Amy, “I must help Joseph.”
Leon grabbed Bogus and calmly said, “Nah, you stay here with me. Let ’em get it out of their system. It’ll be over directly.”
A half-dozen Sherriff’s deputies appeared with clubs drawn and waded into the fray. One deputy grabbed Josh from behind. Josh turned, fist up and ready. The Deputy yelled, “YOU HIT ME, JOSH, AN’ I’LL PUT A BULLET IN YOUR ASS!”
Slowly the fight broke up, the shouting stopped, and the crews went their separate ways. Joseph walked back to his car and surveyed the damage. Leon put his arm around Joseph’s shoulders and said, “Well, let’s see. You done tore up your car, you lost a couple thousand dollars in prize money, and you lost some points. If you don’t control your temper, you ain’t never movin’ up. You’ll be like Bill over there, a fifty year old never-will-be.”
Joseph bowed his head, nodded and began to load up the car. Bogus looked at Amy, smiled and said, “Hm, life’s lessons learned the hard way.”
Amy nodded and said, “Yep. Most of the time, it’s the best way.”
“Agreed,” replied Bogus.