Blind Spot

by Chris Fabry

  “Wait, they don’t look in their mirrors? That would be freaky just to take somebody’s word for it.”

  “That’s why you basically trust your spotter with your life. Make a mistake there and you wipe out a lot of people’s chances to win.”

  Vanessa glanced at the TV. “And this is what you do in your spare time? Race that car?”

  “Not Maxie. I race that one over there.”

  “Looks kind of old.”

  “It’s a Legend car. It’s supposed to look like that. But don’t let looks fool you. I can go fast.”

  “You have to wear those big coverall thingies?”

  “It’s called a fire-retardant suit. Yeah, I wear that along with a full-face helmet, gloves, neck brace. The whole deal.”

  “Ever wreck?”

  “A couple of times.”

  “What happened?”

  “Went to the hospital. The first one gave me whiplash the size of Montana. In the second one I jammed my knee into the steering column. Had a bone contusion and pulled a muscle. Oh, and a concussion.”

  “Just a little thing like that.”

  “Yeah. Once you get into a bad wreck, you know whether you really want to race or not. They don’t bother me that much.” Jamie could tell Vanessa was on information overload, so she screwed the oil filter on and checked for leaks.

  When she stood up, Vanessa was focused on the screen. “What’s all that white smoke coming out of your dad’s car?”

  “Great,” Jamie muttered. “That’s just what he needed.”

  The mood in the house was somber when Jamie went back inside. Jamie’s mom frowned, and Kellen was lying in front of the TV, his knuckles on both cheeks, staring at the screen. “He drove straight to the garage.” He sighed.

  The yellow flag was out, and a camera caught one of the main sponsors for the Maxwell car.

  “That look says it all,” the announcer said. “There are rumblings of a sponsor shake-up in the Maxwell camp—”

  “A shakeout you mean,” a commentator said. “Unless there’s a major turnaround, we could be seeing some big changes.”

  Jamie’s mom turned down the sound, and the room got really quiet.

  “It’s only one race,” Vanessa said. “Why are they making such a big deal?”

  No one said a word.

  “Well, Nicole,” Mrs. Moran said, “have you heard any more about your addition?”

  Jamie caught her mom’s gaze, and there seemed to be a bit of fear mixed with nerves. “No, uh, it’s sort of on hold.” She glanced at Jamie. “But thanks for asking.”

  Jamie didn’t know exactly what was up, but those looks meant her mom was hiding something. And Jamie was determined to find out what it was.

  Chapter 24

  The Church

  TIM WATCHED ABOUT HALF the California race until it was time to go to work. He was supposed to clean up after a middle school meeting in one of the upstairs rooms. When he got there, it was still going, and he kicked himself for not staying at home longer and catching more of the race.

  He spotted a TV in the church kitchen. A couple flips of the channels and he found the California Speedway—a bit grainy, sure, but he could still see it.

  With 15 laps to go, the #13 Devalon car was in third, a sign that the Demon of Daytona was back. With his first-place finish there, he was in a good spot to challenge the perennial leaders for the Chase. Of course, any lead this early in the season was suspect, but if the guy kept driving like this, he’d be able to buy several more RVs.

  Tim couldn’t help standing close to the TV, feeling the excitement of the last laps and the jockeying for position. A nudge here. A push there. This was always the most tense moment of any race—and the most fun to watch.

  The door opened, and one of the pastors stuck his head in. “The middle schoolers are finished.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got senior high in the same room in less than an hour, and there’s Silly String everywhere.”

  “I’m on it,” Tim said.

  He took one last look—only nine laps to go—then switched off the TV and locked the door. He grabbed his stuff and headed to the room, which was worse than he imagined. There wasn’t just Silly String everywhere; there was Silly String mixed with ground-in pizza and soda.

  Tim worked as fast as he could, mopping the tile first, then cleaning the carpet. He imagined he was changing tires on a pit crew. He wanted the pastor and the others at the church to like his work, but his real reason for going so fast was that he wanted to be finished before the high schoolers got there.

  The room was looking respectable when the first few kids hit the door. Loners like him. A girl with long curly hair, her nose stuck in a book. A fat kid who crossed his arms over his chest and sat in the back.

  He had everything ready and was wheeling the huge, gray trash can into the hall when a gaggle of high schoolers echoed through the hall. He pulled his hat low and went out the side door. He thought he heard Kimberly’s voice, and he was glad he didn’t have to face her.

  After the noise died, Tim wheeled the squeaky trash can and the bucket and mop toward the service elevator in the back. He had just entered the hall when he heard footsteps.

  “That’s him,” someone whispered.

  “You sure?” another said. “He’s punier than you described.”

  “Check out his pants. Low budget all the way.”

  Though he knew he ought to keep going, Tim stopped in the middle of the hall. He recognized one voice.

  “Hey, Tim,” Jeff said. “Not very good etiquette dumping your friends on the highway like that. Get it? Dumping?”

  Tim turned. Jeff stood with two guys—neither of them from the car. They looked like they were football team material. Big shoulders. Mops of hair hung over their eyes. Tim tried to think of something snappy to say to put Jeff in his place, but all he could do was stare.

  “I hear you like a cold Coke,” one of the hulks said, smiling. The guy had perfect white teeth, and Tim wondered how much his parents had paid for the dental work.

  “He likes ’em cold and full of liquid Ex-Lax,” Jeff laughed. “Hey, you get the room clean in there? Or did you just eat all the leftovers? If I find any crumbs, I’ll fix a plate for you.”

  “What a loser,” the other hulk said.

  “Yeah, if I was his dad, I’d have died too.” Jeff pushed Tim as he passed the trash.

  Jeff didn’t see the mop coming, and Tim scored a direct hit to the side of the guy’s face. He fell back and gasped as the wet mop stuck to his head.

  Tim cursed. “You owe me for those tickets!”

  Jeff wiped wet pizza bits from his face and shirt, but when he tried to stand, Tim hit him in the mouth again, shoving him back. The other two were up and on Tim in a flash, wrestling him to the ground, then dragging him toward the stairwell.

  “Hey, stop it!” Kimberly shouted. “Let go of him!”

  “Get back in the room,” Jeff yelled, pulling his shirt up and wiping his face. “This is none of your business.”

  Tim kicked and thrashed as the three pulled him to the fire door. He managed to get a look at the hall before the doors closed. Kimberly was running the other way, toward the pastor’s office.

  Chapter 25

  The Plan

  AS USUAL, WHEN JAMIE got upset, she didn’t care that there were people from church around. She didn’t care if no one was there or if the room was as full as a shopping mall at Christmas. She let her questions fly. “Why do I have to find out stuff about our family from somebody I don’t even know? Do you know how that makes me feel?”

  Her mother pulled her into the kitchen as the volume on the TV went back up. “Keep your voice down.”

  “So your church friends won’t hear us fighting? So they’ll think we’re the perfect family?”

  “No. They know we’re not perfect.”

  “Yeah, you’ve probably told them all about how bad I am.”

  “Jamie, I don’t care what they think
of me. I don’t want you making a fool of yourself. These are nice people who care about us. They know we have struggles just like they do. Now sit down.”

  Jamie crossed her arms and kept standing, her back against the wall, knee out, foot propped halfway up the wall. “What was Mrs. Moran talking about? What ‘addition’ are we adding? Are you and Dad expanding the house?”

  “No, nothing like that. We’ve been talking about a change. We would have told you, but—”

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  She ran a hand across the tablecloth. “You know I can’t have any more children.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Jamie’s voice softened. “And you want to adopt some Chinese-Russian baby.”

  Her mom smiled. “No. Overseas adoption was our first choice because there are so many kids out there who need a home.”

  “Was?”

  “Well, it’s still a dream. There are a lot of costs we can’t swing right now, but something else has come up. We were going to tell you and Kellen soon. . . .”

  “Why did I have to hear it from Mrs. Moran?”

  “We asked the people in our Bible study to pray with us about this decision. It’s not an easy choice because it’s going to change things around here. But this is something your dad feels really strongly about.”

  “The classes you’ve been taking—is that connected with this?”

  Her mom nodded. “We have to take classes to qualify—”

  “Mom, just tell me.”

  “Honey, let’s talk after everyone leaves.”

  Chapter 26

  The Fight

  TIM STRUGGLED AT THE top of the stairs. His dad had never taught him to fight. He didn’t have to. Tim could handle kids a lot bigger than him just by using his arms and legs. He wasn’t muscular, but he was wiry and quick. Once, when he was emptying some trash behind a truck stop, a couple of guys had jumped him. There were glass bottles in both trash bags, and when he swung them, they clinked against his attackers’ heads. He’d tossed the bags into the Dumpster and backed away as they stumbled in the dark.

  Now one of Jeff’s buddies held Tim’s arms. He tightened his stomach and took several punches to the gut. Jeff moved left, cocking his arm and aiming for Tim’s face. Tim lifted his feet and kicked Jeff’s chest. Jeff lost his balance and tumbled backward, grabbing the railing. He scraped his forehead against the blocks, and blood trickled from the wound.

  “You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that,” Jeff growled, scampering back up the steps.

  “You oughta wish you hadn’t stolen my tickets,” Tim said.

  “Hold him!” Jeff yelled.

  The stairwell door burst open, and one of the pastors ran through, Kimberly right behind him.

  “Let him go!” the man said.

  The two dropped Tim, and he fell hard to the floor.

  “He started it,” Jeff hollered, holding out his shirt. “He attacked me with a mop, and we were just defending ourselves.”

  “Three against one?” Kimberly said. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  The pastor told Jeff and his friends to go back to the senior high room.

  “I don’t want any part of this church,” Jeff scoffed. “You hire thugs and turn them into janitors. You ought to control them.”

  “Just settle down,” the pastor said.

  “No. My dad knows a good lawyer. We could sue this church for being attacked by one of your employees.”

  Kimberly helped Tim up as the three headed down the stairs and out the side entrance.

  The senior pastor opened the stairwell door and stared at Tim. “You okay?”

  “Little more excitement than I wanted,” Tim said, holding his stomach. “I’ll be all right.”

  The senior pastor closed the door to his office and sat across from Tim. Services were over, and the church was basically empty. The look on the man’s face gave him away.

  “You don’t have to say it,” Tim said. “I know what’s gonna happen.”

  “You’ve done a good job in the short time you’ve been here, Tim. You’re a hard worker, and I’m sure if your dad were here, he’d say he was proud of you.”

  “If my dad were here, I’d never be caught dead here. No offense.”

  “None taken. If I could roll back the clock and bring your dad back, I’d do it in a second.”

  “But . . . ,” Tim said.

  “Yes. But. I wanted to help you as much as I could and stuck my neck out to get you this job. Several on the elder board were here tonight, and they heard what happened. I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.”

  “I understand.” He pulled out the $100 bill and put it on the pastor’s desk. “I’ll still pay you the rest.”

  The pastor waved a hand. “You keep this. As far as I’m concerned, we’re square.”

  “I’m real sorry about your tires.”

  “I hope you won’t let this whole thing cloud your thoughts about God. He cares more for you than you know. I’d like to talk with you about that sometime.”

  Tim rose, his ribs sore and his face swollen. “I’m sure you mean well, but I don’t think God wants much to do with me.”

  The man’s eyes watered. “Tim, I believe everybody is put on earth for a purpose. God made you. He has a destiny for you. I can tell it just by spending a little time with you.”

  Tim shoved the $100 into his pocket. “You don’t know me. If I could’ve thrown those guys down the stairs, I’d have done it. So don’t tell me how much God loves me or has a purpose for me. He doesn’t care about me, and I don’t care about him.”

  Tim left the office, the pastor in his chair, staring at the floor.

  Kimberly waited for him in the hallway. She wrung her hands. “This is all my fault. I was the one who introduced you to Jeff.”

  “You didn’t know he was a skunk. I should have realized it when I got in his car.”

  She followed like a puppy to the janitor’s closet as Tim put away his tools. “I hope you won’t let this make you not want to come to church.”

  Tim couldn’t hide a grin. “No, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than praise the Lord by getting beat up. It’s a real worshipful experience.”

  Chapter 27

  Teamwork

  IT TOOK AN HOUR for the people to leave the Maxwell house after the race was over. Jamie stayed in her room until the last car left. Everybody seemed really sad at the outcome of the race, but she could hear them encouraging her mom as they walked to their cars.

  When Jamie’s dad called, she got on the phone and listened from upstairs. He was staying in California and heading with the crew to Las Vegas for the next race—a place he hated, but it was too expensive to travel back and forth.

  A few minutes later her mom yelled for Kellen to pick up.

  “I’m sorry you heard about this from somebody else,” her dad said.

  “You’ve always said we’re a team,” Jamie said. “Why wouldn’t you let us in on your plan?”

  “What plan?” Kellen said. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Her dad cleared his throat. “There’s a kid down in Florida whose father died at Talladega.”

  “The Carhardt guy?” Kellen said.

  “Exactly. We’ve talked to his social worker and found out that he’s not in a really good place. He’s 15, so it’s not going to be long before he can be out on his own, but over the last few weeks, your mother and I have felt like God’s calling us to give him a home.”

  “Wow, a big brother,” Kellen said. “Would he change his name to Maxwell?”

  “We don’t even know if he’ll want to live here,” Mom said. “But we want to give it a shot.”

  “This whole thing is contingent on you two, though,” Dad said.

  “What’s contingent mean?” Kellen said.

  “It means you should be quiet,” Jamie said.

  “You guys can vote against it if you don’t like it. We’re not going to push this on you unless you agree. Y
ou’re as much a part of the decision making as we are.”

  Jamie fumed. “Okay, so you go through all these classes and then say it’s up to us?”

  “Jamie—”

  “No, you’re saying God is telling you to do this, but we can veto it. That’s great. God’s on your side, and we’re on the other.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” her dad said. “I’m just trying to shoot straight.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Kellen said. “He can help me with my homework. And he’s probably better at math than Jamie too.”

  Nobody laughed.

  “What do you think, Jamie?” her mom said.

  Jamie thought about the Devalon team. Her car. Her dreams. Did her parents care more about this guy in Florida they didn’t even know than about her?

  “Fine,” she said, then hung up.

  Chapter 28

  Question

  TIM DIDN’T TELL TYSON or Vera about what had happened at the church or with Jeff. He hoped they’d never find out. When he saw Lisa’s car outside their trailer, his heart sank. He liked the woman, but every time she came around it seemed like trouble followed.

  He walked near the front window to see if he could overhear any of the conversation inside, but the hum of the air conditioner drowned everything out.

  He moved past a window and heard Vera say, “Here he is now.” She opened the door and told him to come in. “What are you doing hanging around out here?”

  “Thought I lived here.”

  “Not for long,” Vera said.

  Tim walked inside. Lisa looked out of place with this family, like a nice piece of furniture sitting next to a trash can on the curb.

  She smiled at him and asked him to sit. “How’d you like Daytona?” she said. “Everything go okay?”

  Tim stole a glance at Tyson and his wife. “There were a couple of glitches with that. But thanks for the tickets.”

  “Miss Lisa has some news for you, Tim,” Vera said with a surprisingly sweet tone.