Challenge of the Masked Racer

by Chase Wheeler

A news announcer’s voice blared from the TV set.

  “And now from the world of sports,” he said. “The Trans-Country auto race will start in two days. The race is one of the most grueling and dangerous in the world. Drivers will race on a 300-mile course. Some of the top champions in the sport of motor racing will be participating.”

  Race cars zoomed across the TV screen. Spritle watched with wide eyes. Even though he wasn’t old enough to race yet, he loved everything about racing. He was a Racer, after all.

  Chim Chim thought of a way to trick Spritle. He picked up the last donut on the plate. Then he put the ball of yarn that Mom was using on the plate. The chimpanzee giggled, waiting to see what would happen.

  The picture on the screen changed to show a group of drivers in red racing uniforms. Zoomer Slick stood in front of them.

  “Let me introduce a few of the most famous drivers to our viewing audience,” the announcer went on. “Zoomer Slick is the top driver for the Alpha Team.”

  “He’s in the race?” Spritle asked. He grabbed the ball of yarn from the plate. Then he bit into it, thinking it was a donut.

  “Ha! Ha!” Chim Chim laughed.

  Now a picture of the Masked Racer appeared on the screen.

  “This is Racer X, known throughout the world as the Masked Racer, ”the announcer said. “He has been known to bring back luck to many races.”

  Pops nodded. “That may be true, but he’s one of the best racers I’ve ever seen!”

  The announcer wasn’t finished.

  “In addition to the Masked Racer, one of the top contenders and last-minute entries is a newcomer, Speed Racer,” he said.

  Mom Racer gasped. She leaned forward, pulling the ball of yarn with her. Poor Spritle was still holding on to it, and he tumbled off of his chair.

  Speed braced himself. Pops was definitely not going to be happy about this—and when Pops wasn’t happy, nobody was happy.

  “Speed has raced in very few meets so far,” the announcer went on. “He will enter this race driving the Mach 5, a special racing car designed by his father, Pops Racer.”

  Pops’s face turned as red as an Alpha Team uniform. Mom Racer grinned.

  “The race is expected to be a close competition between Speed Racer and the Masked Racer,” the announcer finished.

  Pops exploded. “You’re not supposed to be in that race!” he yelled.

  Spritle frowned. “Here we go again. Pops is blowing another gasket!”

  Pops got out of his chair. The big man looked like an angry volcano about to blow.

  “Speed, I don’t want you in that race!” Pops fumed. “Under no circumstances are you allowed to enter. Understand?”

  Mom Racer stepped up behind Pops and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now, dear, calm down,” she said firmly.

  Spritle smiled. “Here we go. Pops will change his mind.”

  Pops softened. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for you, son,” he told Speed. “You don’t have enough skill and experience yet to race against the Masked Racer. It requires advanced technical skills. Sharp reflexes are necessary over every inch of that racing course.”

  Speed looked down at the floor. He had heard this from Pops many times. Speed had trained hard to be a racer. But it seemed Pops would never be convinced that Speed was ready to race.

  “Let me tell you about your older brother, Rex,” Pops said, his voice softening. “Rex left home many years ago. He and I had a bad argument. It all started when he was eighteen years old, the same age you are now.”

  Speed looked at the photo of Rex that hung on the wall. His brother sat in a yellow race car, a look of determination on his face.

  Pops continued his story. “Rex joined a race without asking my permission,” he said. “He used a car I spent years building ...”

  Pops got a faraway look on his face as he remembered that day. Pops had arrived at the racetrack as fast as he could. Rex was speeding around the track. Two cars crashed in front of him, leaving Rex in first place. But Rex was reckless. His car spun out of control and crashed into the barrier wall.

  Pops had rushed to the car. Rex climbed out. Thankfully, he didn’t have a scratch on him.

  That’s when the argument began. Pops remembered it like it was yesterday.

  “I’m sorry, Pops, ” Rex had said. “A few yards farther and I would have been the winner. I did such a great job of driving, I deserved to win the race. ”

  “You deserved to lose!” Pops cried angrily. “Your driving was terrible. ”

  “What do you mean, terrible? I would have won if my car hadn’t gone into a spin, ” Rex said, getting angry himself.

  “Right, ” Pops said. “And if you had more experience, that wouldn’t have happened. ”

  “It was just an accident, Pops!” Rex protested.

  “I don’t care, ” Pops shot back. “I don’t want to find you behind the wheel of a car again. And that’s final!”

  Rex’s eyes blazed with anger and pride. “Then I’ll have to become a champion without you, Pops. I’m leaving home. ”

  Rex turned and walked down the track, leaving Pops and the burning car behind him.

  That was the last time anyone in the Racer family had seen Rex Racer. Pops’s eyes filled and began to tear at the memory. He looked at Speed.

  “That’s why I want you to get more experience, Speed,” Pops said. “I don’t want you to crash like Rex did. Your brother could have been really hurt.”

  Spritle stepped up between them.

  “But Pops, don’t you know Speed is the best racing car driver in the world?” he piped up.

  “I didn’t ask you, Spritle!” Pops bellowed.

  Chim Chim hid behind Spritle’s back, shivering.

  Mom Racer looked up from her knitting. “It’s getting pretty late. It’s time for bed, boys. Good night, Spritle. Good night, Speed.”

  “Good night!” Spritle and Speed said together.

  Minutes later, Speed was in bed, reading the latest issue of his favorite racing magazine. But he couldn’t concentrate. He set the magazine on his chest and looked up at the ceiling.

  Oh, Rex, where are you? Speed thought. He turned over and pounded his fist on his pillow. Why don’t you come home again, where you belong? Mom and Pops miss you. I miss you, too. I’m going to race against the Masked Racer whether Pops likes it or not. I wish you could be here to see me. I’ve got to beat him, I’ve got to! If I beat the Masked Racer, Pops will know I’m ready to go pro.

  Speed rolled over and fell into a fitful sleep.

  4

  SECRET PLANS

  The next morning, a group of men met in a hotel room.

  One of the men was Mr. Wiley, the man who had talked to Racer X on the docks. It’s true that he was on the committee of the Trans-Country Race. But that’s not all. He secretly managed the Alpha Team racers as well. Wiley sat in a fancy leather chair.

  Standing next to Wiley was a tall, thin man with a mustache. Mr. Fixer was the man who had offered Pops thousands of dollars to get Speed Racer on the Alpha Team.

  Zoomer Slick and the other Alpha Team racer stood in front of Wiley and Fixer. Wiley had called this secret meeting to talk about the Trans-Country Race.

  “I want my team to win the Trans-Country Race no matter what the price,” Wiley said. His beady brown eyes focused on Slick. “Do you understand, Slick?”

  “You can count on me, Mr. Wiley,” Slick said confidently. “It doesn’t matter if the Masked Racer and Speed Racer are in the race. I’m going to beat them both.”

  “Smart boy,” Mr. Wiley replied. “But I heard that the Masked Racer is pretty tricky.”

  “No matter what trick he pulls, I’ll be pulling it first,” Slick said. “Don’t worry. I’ll beat him.”

  Mr. Wiley laughed. “That’s the dirty fighting spirit!”

  Slick leaned closer to Mr. Wiley. “When I do win, I’ll expect to be paid a lot of money.”

  Mr. Wiley smiled. “I promise, Sli
ck. You’ll get everything you deserve.”

  Mr. Fixer stepped between them.

  “Hey, Mr. Wiley, I just found out that the Masked Racer is staying at a house in town,” he said, his voice high with excitement. “I’ll bet he’s making plans to beat us.”

  Mr. Wiley shrugged. “So?”

  “So we’d better make some plans to beat him!” Mr. Fixer pointed out.

  “Don’t worry,” Slick bragged. “When I’m out on that track I’ll do my stuff. He won’t know what hit him.”

  Mr. Wiley nodded approvingly. Slick was just the man he needed on his team.

  “Good luck, Slick!

  Over at the Racer house, Spritle and Chim Chim were playing outside in the backyard. They had two toy race cars. One looked exactly like the Mach 5. The other was a yellow car with a number 9 on the side—just like Racer X had.

  The motorized cars zoomed around a racecourse Spritle had made in a big, long sandbox. The two cars were side by side.

  Spritle narrated the race. “Number 9, driven by the Masked Racer, is beating Speed Racer, driving the Mach 5. Now they are neck and neck and the Masked Racer is trying to make Speed crash!”

  Both cars sped to the end of the sandbox. They flew over the edge and landed nosedown in a pile of dirt.

  “They both crash!” Spritle cried.

  Spritle reached out to pick up the cars. Then he stopped.

  The cars had crashed at the feet of a man in a white racing uniform. The man wore a black mask over his face.

  “The Masked Racer! ” Spritle screamed. “Hide!”

  Spritle and Chim Chim tripped over each other, trying to get away. Spritle picked himself up, ran, and then crashed into a chair swing!

  “Don’t be afraid,” Racer X said.

  “I’m not.” Spritle sat in the chair and tried to look tough.

  “Isn’t your name Spritle?” Racer X asked.

  Spritle jumped off of the swing and waved his right fist at Racer X. “That’s what it is, and I’m stronger than I look. So watch out! ”

  The Masked Racer smiled. “I will, Spritle.”

  “What did you come here for?” Spritle asked suspiciously.

  “To ask you to do something for me,” he replied. He held out a white envelope. “I want you to give this letter to your brother Speed.”

  “I don’t get it,” Spritle said. “Why don’t you give it to him yourself?”

  “I don’t want anyone to know about it,” the Masked Racer answered mysteriously. “Please take it.”

  Racer X tucked the letter inside the front pocket of Spritle’s overalls. Then he gave Spritle a gentle pat on the head. “Now be a good boy, Spritle,” he said kindly. Then he jumped in his car and drove off.

  Spritle watched him go. “Come on, Chim Chim. We have to give this letter to Speed!”

  They raced around the house to the garage. Speed was outside, washing the Mach 5. Spritle took the letter out of his pocket and began to wave it.

  “Speed! Speed! Look! The Masked Racer gave me a letter to give to you! ” he cried.

  Speed turned off the hose. “The Masked Racer? Really?”

  He took the letter from his little brother. Spritle grinned, proud that he had been given such an important task.

  Speed opened the envelope and read the letter. He frowned.

  “What does it say, Speed?” Spritle asked, jumping up and down with excitement.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Spritle,” Speed said. “It’s between me and the Masked Racer. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

  Spritle nodded. “Okay.”

  That night, Speed had trouble sleeping once again. He kept thinking about the letter from the Masked Racer—and the big Trans-Country Race. A thunderstorm raged outside, but there was a storm raging in Speed’s heart as well.

  The Masked Racer told me not to enter the Trans-Country Race, Speed thought. A clap of thunder boomed loudly outside. Who does he think he is? I think he’s afraid I’ll beat him. There’s only one way to prove that I can. I’ve got to enter that race.

  Lightning lit up Speed’s room, charging the air with electricity.

  Pops says I need more experience, Speed thought. Well, I’ll go to the track now and I’ll get experience!

  Speed got out of bed and quickly got dressed. His mom and dad were asleep, so he tiptoed quietly to the door that led to the garage.

  Speed heard a noise behind him. Heart pounding, he turned. Then he sighed in relief. It was only Spritle, sleepwalking in his pajamas.

  In the garage, Speed put on his racing helmet. He climbed into the Mach 5. Then he opened the electric garage door.

  A ferocious wind blew in through the open door, knocking everything off of the shelves. Outside, the rain hammered down.

  Speed revved the Mach 5’s engine. He knew what he was doing was foolish, but he didn’t care. He wanted to race. That was all he had ever dreamed of. He had to prove to Pops that he could follow his dream.

  Speed drove into the pouring rain.

  5

  DANGEROUS PRACTICE

  Speed could only see a few yards in front of him as he drove to the racetrack. That didn’t slow him down. He hugged every turn on the highway. Soon he smelled salt in the air, and the round stadium of the racetrack loomed in front of him.

  Speed roared down the track. Through the rain, he saw headlights in front of him, then a flash of yellow. He wasn’t alone.

  Speed stepped on the brakes. He got out of the Mach 5.

  Crack! Lightning bathed the track in bright white light.

  The yellow car stopped in front of Speed. Racer X got out and faced him.

  “You!” Racer X cried. “What are you doing here, Speed?”

  “Practicing,” Speed said, his voice cold.

  “You can’t enter that race, Speed,” the Masked Racer said firmly.

  “I can beat you,” Speed said. “I’ll prove it.”

  Speed jumped back into the Mach 5 and sped away.

  “Wait!” Racer X called out. He climbed into his car and took off after Speed.

  What had started as practice had now become a race. The two cars zoomed down the track. Then they left the track and drove onto the slick highway. Speed was in the lead, but just barely.

  The road took a steep drop down a hill and then straightened out through a mountain pass. The rain pounded even harder now, and Speed could barely see in front of him. But anger and determination pushed him on, and he recklessly picked up speed. One wrong turn could send the Mach 5 crashing into the rocks.

  The road widened. Racer X came up quickly on Speed’s left side and passed him. Speed frowned. He gritted his teeth and stepped on the gas, pushing the limits of the Mach 5. He charged ahead, speeding past Racer X.

  Then the mountain road took a sharp turn. Speed skidded, maneuvering the turn on his two right wheels. Sparks shot out from his tires.

  Speed struggled to get control of the car. But a pile of fallen boulders blocked the road up ahead. Speed didn’t have time to steer around them.

  He quickly hit the A button on his steering wheel. The hydraulic lifts sent the Mach 5 flying over the boulders. But when the tires hit the wet road, Speed couldn’t get enough traction to make a safe landing. The Mach 5 hit a rock and went into a spin!

  Speed’s stomach lurched as the Mach 5 spun into one 360-degree turn after another. He pressed the B button on the steering wheel. Ridged coverings surrounded the tires, giving Speed the traction he needed. He straightened out the car.

  Speed still couldn’t get the Mach 5 to ride smoothly. He struggled to control the steering wheel as the car banged into the metal guardrail. He heard a sickening screech as the side of the Mach 5 scraped against the railing.

  Now the mountain road followed the ocean coast. Angry waves slapped against the barrier wall to the left of the Mach 5. To his right were the jagged rocks of the mountain.

  Racer X tried to catch up to Speed. He expertly steered through the fallen bo
ulders. A jagged bolt of lightning struck the mountain, blinding him for a moment. Worried, the Masked Racer turned on his radio.

  “The forecast for the day of the big race is still uncertain,” said the radio announcer. “Right now we’re in the center of a low-pressure area that is bringing heavy rains and high winds. At sea the waves are thirty feet high and the tide is still rising. Driving conditions are extremely hazardous. Stay off the roads tonight.”

  Racer X frowned and turned off the radio. He knew firsthand that the announcer was right. The high waves were pouring over the guardrail, making the road even more slick and dangerous.

  Over in the Mach 5, water splashed up onto the windshield, making it impossible for Speed to see. He gasped. He veered onto the side of the road, and barreled into a bunch of oil drums. Bam! Bam! Bam! The metal drums smacked into the Mach 5 and bounced off of the road.

  “Speed!” Racer X cried.

  Speed quickly regained control of the car, but only for a moment. The storm raged more violently now, and Speed lurched back and forth across the road. He struggled to straighten out.

  I won’t give up and stop the car, Speed told himself. I’ve got to show Racer X what I can do. I’ve got to keep driving!

  To his left, a boat was thrashed about by the powerful waves. The boat crashed into the retaining wall, sending chunks of concrete flying toward the Mach 5.

  Speed turned the steering wheel sharply to avoid crashing into the debris himself. But his trouble wasn’t over. An avalanche of logs came tumbling down the mountainside.

  “Ahhhh!” screamed Speed as he braced himself.

  The Mach 5 was about to crash!

  6

  THE MASKED RACER’S SECRET

  The logs tumbled across the road. There was nowhere to steer, no time to jump. Speed stepped on the brakes as hard as he could.