by Chris Fabry
“I’m sorry to hear about that, darlin’,” Dale said. “Have you been able to come to another race?”
“Dad had to save up a long time for us to even come to that one,” Jenna said. “And I saved my allowance. Maybe next year.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Dale said. “If I get in the Chase, you and your parents ought to come down to Talladega to see that race. I could get you some tickets if you want.”
“Are you kidding?” Jenna said, her eyes wide. “Just one thing. You’d better make it, because I really want to go.”
Everybody laughed and Tim did too, but there was something about hearing the word Talladega that sent a shiver through him. How would he feel going back there? Would the Maxwells even invite him?
They moved to the track area, where Dale was introduced by a man with a microphone. The crowd cheered, and the guy even introduced Jamie as “an up-and-coming driver you’re sure to see out there one day.”
Jamie blushed and waved at the kids, then settled in with her friend Cassie.
Dale told some stories about his favorite races and his least favorite wrecks. He showed the kids a couple of his techniques of driving and finished with a Bible story about Noah and how God told him to build a holy race car.
The kids laughed and said, “No, it was an ark!”
“Well, it was a special vehicle, and when Noah finished building it, do you know who got in and drove?”
The kids were silent.
Dale said that God shut the door himself, and it began to rain. Then he said some things about letting God have control of your life, and he glanced over at Jamie and winked. Most of the stuff Tim didn’t pay attention to because he was looking at the parking lot. The Watkins guy from the driving school walked up to the back of the audience and just stood there, staring at him.
Chapter 34
Bud’s Announcement
JAMIE SHOOK HANDS with Mr. Watkins, and the man nodded, his face grim. He said hello to her mom and shook hands with her dad. The kids were still gathering around, and Bud asked if they could go to someplace more private.
Jenna pulled on Jamie’s dad’s hand. “My mom told me if I really got to see you, I should give you this.” She handed him an envelope.
He put it in his shirt pocket and knelt before Jenna. “I hope I’m going to see you a little later in the season.”
She smiled and walked away with the rest of the campers.
Jamie followed Bud toward the parking lot. When they were outside the fence, Bud leaned against his truck and pushed his hat back a little, crossing his arms and legs. He just stood there for a moment, and Jamie wanted to scream for him to say something. She turned and saw Cassie over by the meeting hall watching them.
“We’ve got a situation with the race Sunday,” Bud finally said as Tim and the others walked up. Bud stared at Tim for some reason.
“What kind of situation?” Jamie said.
“We’re DQing one of the teams.”
“They’re going to send one of the drivers to Dairy Queen?” Kellen muttered.
Jamie punched her brother’s arm. “One of the top three?” she said.
Bud nodded. “The Devalon team. Since he won the race, we gave the engine a good once-over and noticed some residue. It looks like they put some additive in his fuel. Jet fuel to give him an edge.”
“Why would they do that?” Jamie said. “He didn’t need it.”
“Well, evidently they thought he did.” He looked at Tim again. “Or, if we believe the crew, somebody put the stuff in their fuel can.”
Tim looked away.
“What are you going to do, Bud?” Jamie’s dad said.
“Unless they can prove that someone sabotaged their fuel, we’re pulling his license and giving it to the one who finished fourth.”
Jamie’s mouth dropped open, and she tried to resist the urge to jump up and down and scream.
Bud stepped toward Tim. “You have anything to say about this?”
“It’s a real shame, sir. I don’t like cheaters any more than you do.”
“Did you have anything to do with it?”
Tim shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why would I want to help them win the race? I’m on the Maxwell team.”
“You could have known we’d find that residue and would have to DQ him.”
“That seems like a stretch,” her dad said. “The simplest explanation is that they gave Chad a splash of that stuff to power him to the finish. Or that he was running with it the whole race.”
“They said they saw Tim in their pit area,” Bud said.
Her dad looked at Tim square in the eyes. “You have anything to do with this?”
“Absolutely not,” Tim said, not hesitating.
“That settles it for me,” her dad said. “We don’t have that kind of fuel additive around our shop anyway. Where would Tim get it?”
“We’re going to review the video from the race, but as it stands right now . . .” Bud faced Jamie. “Little lady, you just won yourself a license.”
When Bud reached out a hand to shake, she couldn’t help hugging him.
“We also looked over your engine,” Bud said. “What you did with that car from start to finish is nothing short of amazing. I hope you know that.”
“We had a good run,” Jamie said, glancing over at Cassie. The girl’s head was bowed and her eyes closed. Jamie wished she’d stop praying so she could give her a thumbs-up.
“If I were you,” Bud said to her dad, “I’d get that girl an agent. She’s the best I’ve ever seen at her age.”
Her dad smiled. “She’s the best I’ve seen. Period.”
Chapter 35
The Key
AT FIRST, TIM COULDN’T believe the Devalon people would accuse him. Then he figured he was a likely candidate in their minds. They probably thought nobody would stand up for him. People would just throw him under the bus like they always did. They hadn’t planned on Dale and Jamie.
The next day, Butch Devalon showed up at the house while Tim was outside weeding the flower garden for Mrs. Maxwell, his shirt off. He had some music on a headset as he pulled and picked. When that black truck parked in the driveway, he shut off the music and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Devalon walked over to him. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you want to ruin Chad’s chances?”
Tim didn’t want to back down. He wanted to stand up to the guy. But he remembered something his dad had said: “When you wrestle with a pig, the only thing that happens is you both get dirty.” The DVD came back to him, and he gritted his teeth. It was like staring down some fire-breathing dragon.
“I don’t think your son had any right to be there, mister. From what I hear, he came in halfway through and didn’t pay his dues like the others. But I didn’t do anything to his stupid car. You’ve got nobody to blame but yourself.”
The man snarled at him—Tim could swear the guy snarled like a dog—as the door opened behind Tim. He kept his eyes locked on Devalon as the man looked up.
“What can we do for you, Butch?” Dale said.
“Tell your daughter to get out here.”
From the creak of the porch, Tim figured Dale stepped down a step or two. “I’d advise you to change your tone a bit.”
“I don’t need any advice from a loser like you. Now tell her to get out—”
Jamie’s car pulled into the driveway, and she stopped just past Devalon’s truck. Tim found his shirt and put it on. Mrs. Maxwell came out on the step and rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Kellen came over from the barn. It was like they were all there to watch some bad reality TV show.
Jamie got out of her car in a sweat-stained T-shirt and her workout shorts. She went to the gym at least once a day. She walked up to the group, looking at Devalon, then her parents.
“The deal’s off,” Devalon said. “I don’t want your kind on any team of mine. And I want the key to my garage back. Now.”
Jamie nodded and ran inside. She
returned with the key and tossed it to the man, who caught it with one hand.
“Don’t ever come to me whining about wanting a second chance,” he said.
“I never asked for a chance in the first place,” Jamie said. “The truth is, my dad’s going to teach me everything I need to know from here on. And he’s twice the driver you’ll ever be.”
Devalon shook his head and laughed. “Him?” He looked around at the house, the barn, and the garage in the distance. “Yeah, this place is a monument to the success of Dale Maxwell. He’s built quite a racing empire.”
Mrs. Maxwell walked down the steps and stood on the concrete sidewalk that was a little cracked. She put her hands on her hips. “Being a driver isn’t just about winning, Butch. It’s about being a real man to your wife and family.”
“Nicole, don’t get all upset because you picked the wrong guy to marry. It’s okay to be jealous of what I have. Might even be an incentive for your man to work harder.”
“You got what you came for, Butch,” Dale said. “Now leave.”
“Yeah, leave,” Kellen said, his voice strained.
“What goes around comes around,” Devalon said, glaring at Tim. Then he looked at Dale. “Watch your back at Brickyard. You never know when something bad’ll happen.”
“Good-bye, Butch,” Dale said.
Devalon shoved the key in his pocket and walked back to his truck.
Tim started his music again and watched the black truck zoom down the driveway, sending a cloud of white dust over the yard and into the trees in the distance.
Chapter 36
The Verse
JAMIE SAT IN ON the meetings with her dad and the crew as they chose a car for Indianapolis. T.J., the crew chief, wanted to use a backup they’d tuned especially for Indy.
But her dad wasn’t convinced. “I won the race in Chicago with that engine. I’m really comfortable with the car and the way it ran.”
“No modifications?” T.J. said.
“Why mess with a winner?” Dale said.
Jamie had driven a backup car on the track with him, going through his practice routine. The main thing she needed at this point was seat time. Scotty had heard about an opening at a driving course and mentioned it to Jamie. She called, but because she was only 17, they wouldn’t consider her. The fact that she had a license and was Dale Maxwell’s daughter interested them, but they wouldn’t waive their rule.
Jamie drove to Indianapolis with her mom, Kellen, and Tim. They couldn’t get a second room at the hotel, but Scotty said it was okay if Tim stayed in his room. When Kellen begged to stay too, saying he’d sleep in the bathtub in his sleeping bag if he had to, and Scotty agreed, Mrs. Maxwell relented.
It was a gorgeous day in Indianapolis. Hot and muggy, but the sun was out and the track looked great with all the colors and the fans. Her dad came into the race 16th place in points. Not bad considering his performance in the past few years, but to jump to 12th place and make it into the Chase in five races would be difficult—if not impossible—especially with the talent ahead of him.
The sponsor problems her dad had experienced (his main sponsor had threatened to pull out in the spring) had lessened once he had won in Chicago. There were several stories in magazines and on Web sites about the “comeback” of Dale Maxwell. Each one had mentioned Jamie’s finish at the driving school. Others noted that a popular beer advertiser had offered to bail the team out, but Maxwell had said he’d quit racing before using a beer sponsor. There had been a lot of controversy—including some drivers upset that someone like Jamie could get a license when she was barely 17 (her birthday had come in early June) when NASCAR required drivers to be 18. Because the school had been started by NASCAR, they waived the rule but gave each venue the choice to let her drive. Since Jamie had no team and she was only listed as a backup for her dad, no one thought there’d be a problem.
At the chapel session before the race, the chaplain talked about leaving a legacy to your kids. At first, Jamie didn’t think it was for her because she couldn’t imagine getting married, let alone having children. But the more the guy talked, the more she saw her dad’s influence in her life. She decided that a legacy didn’t have to start when she was older and had a family—it could begin right where she was. When the guy prayed, she closed her eyes and asked God to help her give a legacy to her family that began early.
The family went from there to the pit area and greeted other drivers. Jamie’s mom had a tradition of giving a printed verse to other drivers she knew were believers.
Jamie thought she had handed out all of them when Butch Devalon walked past them in his black outfit and black shoes.
“Hold up there, Butch,” Jamie’s mom said. “I have something for you.”
He glanced at the piece of paper she handed him. Then he looked at her. “This supposed to be some kind of Christian curse on me?” he growled.
Her mom smiled. “Not a curse. A blessing. I wanted you to have that to show there were no hard feelings. And that God is real and wants you to turn to him.”
He shook his head and threw the piece of paper on the ground. “I needed help from him a long time ago, and it never came. Keep your religious mumbo jumbo to yourself.”
When he had gone, Jamie picked up the paper from the asphalt. It read, Psalm 46:1—God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. “Why’d you give him that one?”
Her mom shrugged. “It was supposed to be for another driver, but he didn’t qualify. Just kind of stuck out to me.”
“What did he mean about needing help from God a long time ago?” Jamie said.
Her mom thought a moment. “There are things about people we’ll never know. I met Butch when he was about your age. Had a rough life. Real rough. Maybe one day he’ll see his need for God.”
Kellen walked by with his “Legend in the Making” T-shirt on. “I’m not holding my breath.”
“Stranger things have happened, young man.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “Like Kellen taking a bath.”
Kellen just laughed.
Her dad came over and hugged them. “No family fights during the race now.” He kissed her mom, and she whispered something to him and handed him a piece of paper. He read it and then wiped away big tears. “See you at the winner’s circle,” he said.
Jamie asked her mom what she had said.
Her mother smiled. “There are some things I say to only one person in the world. But I will show you the verse I gave him.” She pulled out her pocket New Testament and opened it to Hebrews.
Jamie read, “‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.’”
“It’s not exactly about Indianapolis,” her mother said, “but it still fits, I think. Let everything else go and concentrate on the race ahead.”
Chapter 37
Chasing Devalon
TIM STOOD BEHIND the war wagon, watching the crew chief talk to Dale during a yellow flag. A few weeks ago Dale had been the one caught in a wreck or running over debris. Now he was racing like he belonged up front. He had his extra points for leading a lap and could pick up even more since he had been in front 45 of the 160-lap race. Currently he was running fifth and gaining quickly on the leaders.
“You’re about three seconds behind the front,” the spotter said. “Separated from the rest of the field. Maintain that position high and you’ll move up in the straightaway.”
“Number 7’s backing off a lot,” Dale said.
“He’s losing downforce because of a lift in the front. Getting a lot more air down there than the other cars.”
Tim switched to the race coverage and heard the announcers talking about Maxwell. “That win in Chicago really energized old Dale,” one commentator said. “He looks like he’s a man on a mission right now, and I wou
ldn’t want to be in front of him.”
“And there’s one driver who Maxwell won’t have to catch. Let’s go down to the pits and hear from Butch Devalon. Butch, this is the second race in a row where you’ve failed to finish because of an accident. What happened out there?”
Tim turned and looked at the camera just outside the infield care center, where Butch Devalon stood. He was wearing a headset with a microphone on it.
“I don’t know. This is just how it goes—long season and lots of chances to hit bumps in the road,” Devalon said. “We’ll be back at ’em next week.”
Tim walked over and stood a few feet behind the cameraman, staring at Devalon. When he started talking about being confident he would finish at the top of the Chase, Tim shook his head and acted like he was laughing, doubling over and holding his stomach. It didn’t faze Devalon, but it felt good to try to distract him.
What didn’t feel good was getting a peck on the shoulder and turning around and seeing Chad Devalon. “What’s wrong with you, punk?” Chad said.
Tim shrugged and walked away.
“You’re the reason I got DQed!” Chad said.
“You’re crazy,” Tim said. “I never touched your car.”
Chad clutched Tim’s shirt and pulled him back. The guy’s face was red, and his neck veins stood out.
“Leave him alone!” someone yelled behind him. It was Kellen, who had grabbed Tim and tried to pull him away from Chad. In the midst of the commotion, Tim heard the announcer say something about “a commotion in the pit area.” He turned to see the camera trained on him and Chad and Kellen.
“I think that’s Butch’s son down there,” the commentator said. “He doesn’t look too happy.”
A guy with a badge and two big arms took the three away to a security area inside the care center.
Chad fussed and fumed until his dad came for him. He looked even madder than Chad.