by Chris Fabry
“What’s wrong?” a girl said, coming from the bathroom area. She had a dark complexion, and Tim thought he recognized her but couldn’t place her face.
“This loser ruined my new boots,” Chad said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He put his arm around the girl, then glanced back at Tim. “Take a good look at him, Rosa. That kid’s going to jail. Just like his mommy.”
Tim’s heart raced. He wanted to run after Chad, jump on him from behind, and smash his face into the carpet. Instead, he watched them leave the theater and walk to the valet, who went for Chad’s car. Then Tim bent over and scooped up the popcorn on the floor and tossed it in the trash.
The trailers were on when Tim got back to his seat, but he couldn’t concentrate on them. Some Western with a megastar, a romantic comedy people laughed at, and a little girl with a magic dog.
Jamie leaned over to him. “What about the popcorn?”
Rosa’s face and her voice kept going through Tim’s mind. “Not hungry,” he said.
Tim couldn’t focus on the movie. Even the chase scenes couldn’t take away the sting of Chad’s words.
Afterward, they had ice cream at one of those fancy places where they put candy bars and peanuts in your ice cream and mix it together on a cutting board.
When they got home, he thanked Jamie.
“Did you like the movie?” she said.
“Yeah, it was good. A great ending to my day.” Tim went to his room and flipped on the light. The Bible and the devotional book were there on top of his other gifts. Beside them were three pieces of mail. The top one was from Charlie Hale, the hauler driver he’d spent a lot of time with at the track. It was a goofy card supposed to make you laugh, but Tim didn’t. Inside Charlie had written, “Happy 15th birthday, Tim.” A $10 and a $5 bill fell onto the bed.
He’s only a year off, Tim thought.
The second card had a return address from Florida. It had a race car on the front with a #16 on it. Inside was a note written in fancy handwriting, the kind Tim always wished he had but knew he never would. It was so curvy and curly he had to concentrate in order to read it.
Dear Tim,
I’m hoping the move to North Carolina has been a good one for you. I talked with Mrs. Maxwell the other day, and she told me how well you’re doing in school, that you have a job with the team, and that you’ve become part of their family. I couldn’t be happier for you.
I hope this is a great birthday and that one day my husband and I will get to come to a race where you’re working or driving or whatever it is you would do.
God bless and happy birthday.
Lisa
Lisa was the social worker who had spent time with Tim and had arranged the move to the Maxwells’. She was one person who had made his stay in Florida better.
The last letter had no return address, but the postmark was from somewhere called Sylacauga, Alabama. He didn’t know anybody from there and couldn’t imagine who it would be from.
It was another card, one of those kinds that plays a song when you open the front flap. This one played a tune from a current superhero movie. He smiled, then looked at the bottom.
Timmy,
I saw you at the Talladega race. I’m so proud of you for going back there. That must have been hard. I hope your birthday was everything you wanted it to be.
I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Mom
Chapter 30
Considering Tim
THE NEXT THREE RACES didn’t go quite as planned for Jamie’s dad. Racing at Lowe’s Motor Speedway was like playing a home game—the track wasn’t that far away, so her dad didn’t have to travel. He finished 15th there, a disappointing run after his success in the earlier Chase races. The only good news was that three of the Chase competitors had DNFs after their names, which killed them in the points standing.
At the half mile in Martinsville, a track her dad had found success on earlier in his career, he got bunched up late in the race with the middle of the pack and finished ninth. The only good thing about the race was that Butch Devalon got spun out with five laps to go and finished 16th. Jamie tried to hide her excitement at that because she knew there were always cameras around.
At Atlanta, the scene of one of her dad’s worst crashes, he finished sixth, with a rookie driver who wasn’t even in the Chase taking first place. Every time her dad raced here, Jamie flashed back to “the crash,” as it had become known in the family. Jamie had been watching the race at home on TV with her mom. Kellen was just a little thing toddling around the house and looking for his favorite pacifier. On the frontstretch her dad was bumped and thrown into the rear of another car, turning sideways then, like some car-monster, rising into the air. His car had flipped—with two cars actually going underneath him while he was in the air—and skidded on its hood into the grassy infield. Her mom had quickly taken her out of the room, but that image stayed with her. Her dad had suffered a concussion, three broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, but he was back in the car the next week. Some called him crazy. Others called him tough. That crash was played and replayed on just about every NASCAR highlight reel Jamie had ever seen.
It all came down to the last three races. Her dad was in the fifth spot—Butch Devalon in second. Jamie thought the whole season would be worth it if he could just finish higher than Devalon.
As for Jamie’s racing, she decided to concentrate on her dad’s finish in the Chase and ramp up for next year in the East series. News had come of a 16-year-old who had just missed being the champion, and Jamie envied the kid. Because of finances and her schedule, she hadn’t been able to race that series. Of course, being one of the top three in the experimental school and her qualifying her dad’s car at Denver had helped give her a reputation. A few sponsors had contacted her dad about her, but no teams had offered her a spot. She kept in good shape, going to the gym almost every day. Between that, schoolwork, her part-time job delivering auto parts, and church, she didn’t have much time to breathe.
The Tuesday before Texas, Tim came to Jamie right after she got home from the gym. It wasn’t normal that he came up to her at all. Usually he stayed in the background doing whatever chore her dad gave him at the garage. He’d become a bit more outgoing since coming to live with them, but he was still shy and guarded around almost everyone. It surprised her to see him at her car when she got out. She wanted to go inside, take a shower, and head to the auto parts place. She was going to be late as it was.
“I got a favor to ask,” Tim said.
“Sure. What is it?”
“Could I ride with you to your work?”
“I guess so. But I have to do some runs once I get there. How are you going to get back?”
“I can walk if I have to,” Tim said. “Or I’ll just meet you back there at closing.”
“Okay, I can call your cell and tell you what time I’ll be back.”
On the way to the store, Jamie probed Tim, trying to find out what he was up to.
Tim stared at the road ahead with a half smile. “I think I figured something out.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you if I’m right.”
At the auto parts place, Jamie put her work shirt on over her T-shirt and buttoned it up. Tim walked through the parking lot and north toward a park. On the other side was downtown Velocity. She wondered why he was going that way. Something inside told her more was going on here than just a walk in the park.
Jamie had gone to Cassie’s house to watch a movie last week, and the two had never even put the DVD in the player. They sat in the living room and talked about God and racing, boys (of course), and where they would be in five years. Or 10. Cassie said that in 10 years Jamie would have at least three championships under her belt. Jamie said Cassie would be known as “the diabetic evangelist to the Congo,” something Cassie laughed at pretty hard.
Cassie was the one who brought up Tim. “I really think it’s great that your parents had a vision
for taking him in. Where do you think he is spiritually?”
Jamie set the bowl of popcorn they were sharing on the coffee table. It was freshly popped, not the microwave kind. “He seems kind of like a leaf blown in the wind, you know? My dad has taken some of his talents and gifts and has really channeled him in a good direction, but it almost feels like we’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop. That he’s going to wind up in trouble or do something to make things harder for himself.”
Cassie took a drink of soda. “Like he’s going to sabotage what he has because he doesn’t deserve the breaks he’s been given?”
“Exactly. My mom says that sometimes people get so many bad breaks that they start thinking that’s what they’re supposed to get. And when things go the other way, they don’t think they deserve it.”
Cassie sighed. “What happened to Tim’s mom?”
Jamie shook her head. “We don’t know. My dad tried to find out through the jerk of a guy Tim was staying with down in Florida. I don’t know why Tim’s dad would ever give him control over his estate.”
“What did he say?” Cassie said.
“He hadn’t heard from Tim’s mom in years. But the social worker in Florida called my mom about something strange.”
Cassie sat forward. “What?”
“A woman somehow found out that she was Tim’s social worker. She asked a lot of questions about Tim, almost like she knew him.”
“She thinks it might be Tim’s mom?”
Jamie shrugged. “I guess it could be. She was awfully interested in Tim. The social worker saw the article about our family and said to watch out for anybody trying to contact him.”
“I guess there are some crazy people out there.”
Jamie grew silent, thinking about Tim’s life. “Sometimes I look at him and wonder what’s going on inside. He acts like nothing bothers him. Like there’s nothing going on at all. But you know he has to be thinking stuff.”
Cassie nodded. “Still waters run deep.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Just that Tim’s a deep pool. There’s more going on inside than it appears.”
“Yeah, I see. The other day he asked to see my cell phone. I think he was setting something up on his new one, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I finally gave it to him. I really think he needs a friend his age to talk with.”
“What he needs most of all is to know how much God loves him. There are times when I’ll see him in church, and he looks like a lost puppy waiting for somebody to pick him up. I prayed that a strong, Christian man would come into his life, but then I realized that prayer had already been answered.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad,” Cassie said. “Don’t you see how perfectly everything fit together? God worked that whole thing out so Tim could come here and be part of your family. Who knows what he has in store for him in the future.”
“Wait. I don’t understand everything about how God works yet, but you think God killed Tim’s dad so Tim would come here? From what I hear, Tim’s dad was a Christian too.”
“I’m not saying God caused the accident. I don’t know how it all works either, but I do know he’s in control. And it’s no accident that Tim is here with you guys.”
Jamie locked her car and moved to the front door of the auto parts place. She watched Tim disappear on the other side of the park as she walked inside to pick up her delivery list. Something didn’t feel right, but she had to go to work.
Chapter 31
Recording
TIM OPENED his cell phone and scrolled through the different numbers he’d programmed. He’d been preparing for this for a few days. He dialed the Pit Stop and talked with Mrs. Flattery, who confirmed that Chad Devalon was there and was alone. Tim quickly dialed the cell number.
Chad answered with a “Yeah?”
“Meet me out here by your car,” Tim said.
“Who is this?”
“Time we cleared this whole thing up,” Tim said. “You’d better hurry before something happens.” He hung up and walked through the shadows of the trees by the restaurant.
Chad ran out of the restaurant, turned the corner, and saw his car. The red Corvette was parked at the end—Tim guessed he parked so far away because he didn’t want anyone to open a door and ding it. Chad looked relieved and slowed when he saw it.
“Nice car,” Tim said, stepping out of the shadows.
Chad sneered. “What do you want?” He said you like Tim was a dung beetle.
Tim crossed his arms and leaned against a Dumpster. “I got to thinking about my hat and that race at Hickory, wondering who might have taken it. And when it showed up at your dad’s garage, it was a bit strange.”
Chad narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not talking to you, you loser. Just stay away from me.” He turned and pushed the keyless entry that unlocked the car and opened the door.
“That’s fine. When the cops find out what I know, they’ll probably want to speak with you.”
Chad turned. “What are you talking about?”
“I called Rosa. She told me the whole thing.”
He shut the door. “What?”
“She told me she was the one who called me. Apologized, actually, which I thought was kind of nice seeing that she really does like you.”
Chad stared at Tim. He reminded Tim of Jeff back in Florida. Shorter, stockier, but with all the attitude and swagger. “You expect me to believe a lie like that? Is that the best you can do?”
“I tried calling Kenny. I figured he was the one who took my hat and got it to you. And that you were the one who set fire to your dad’s garage and planted my hat there. You rooked Rosa into helping you, knowing that she’d probably do what you told her to.”
“You think I set the fire? How do you figure that?”
“Your dad gave Jamie a shot at you. He holds the purse strings. No wonder you’re ticked off at him. This was a way to get back at him and make my life and the Maxwells’ a bit more miserable.”
“You’re crazy,” Chad said.
“It also makes sense that you would start a teeny little fire, because you wanted to hurt your dad, but not too much. Especially if he allows you a place on his team someday. Didn’t figure on the gas can blowing, but you can’t have everything.”
Chad’s face turned red. “You’re just jealous because you don’t even have a dad. And the one you did have was worthless. Everybody knows that.”
Tim had been prepared for two reactions. Either Chad would get in his car and drive away or he’d lash out and fight. While he didn’t like what he said about Tim’s dad, Tim was encouraged by it. It meant he was on to something.
“The police know it wasn’t me. They’ve seen the video of me outside when the fire starts. It was smart to get me there and tamper with the surveillance video, but it didn’t make much sense to leave the other camera. Plus, you had a key to the garage, didn’t you?”
Chad took a step toward him. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you?”
“I got a pretty good idea. Just another scared and mixed-up kid like I am. You’ve got a lot more money and toys—” he pointed to the car—“but inside we’re the same. Except I’m not the one who started that fire.”
Chad was close enough to take a swing at Tim. He clenched his teeth. “You had the perfect motive for starting that fire. You watched the DVD of your dad getting smashed, and you saw it was my dad who started that accident.”
Tim stared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell anybody about that DVD?” Chad said, a smile crossing his lips. “I thought you’d go squealing to Maxwell or somebody at NASCAR. Crying for justice. Wanting to avenge your father’s death. That’s the perfect motive for starting the fire. Except you stayed quiet.”
“I didn’t start the fire,” Tim said.
Chad shrugged. “Everybody thinks you did. The police can’t prove it, but at least it’s a distraction for Maxwell. My old man will n
ever find out. The police have pretty much dropped it. They think it was vandals. And the only one who figured it out was a kid who used to live out of a hauler.” He shook his head. “Life sure does strange things, don’t it?”
“Yeah,” Tim said. “But it’s good to keep some of those strange things around just so you can remember them.” He pulled out a minirecorder he had in his shirt pocket and clicked it off. “I figure this will clear things up pretty well for anybody who wants to know.”
A look came over Chad’s face. It was a mix of surprise and horror and disbelief. It was the exact look Tim had been hoping for. The one he’d dreamed about. Chad lunged for the recorder, and Tim saw why he was such a good driver. He had quick reactions. But because Tim had planned all of this, he was ready. He dodged Chad’s grab and took off through the parking lot. He heard Chad behind him, his expensive sneakers pounding the pavement and getting closer.
Tim didn’t have time to look both ways and ran into the street. Tires screeched, and he looked right as a red SUV locked its tires and came at him. Tim put up a hand to block it and turned his head, thinking he would be flying through the air like Superman at any second. But he didn’t.
The smells of locked brakes and fresh rubber were strong. A man got out and ran to the front of the SUV. “Are you okay? You just flew out in the middle of the street.”
“I’m all right,” Tim said, his heart pounding. He looked back at Chad and slipped the recorder into his breast pocket. “I should have been more careful.”
“I don’t know how I stopped,” the man said. “You should be dead right now. There must be some angels up there watching out for you.”
“Yeah,” Tim said. “Probably an angel somewhere.”
He crossed to the other side of the street and watched Chad return to the parking lot. When the Corvette fired up, Tim ran for another alley, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed Jamie. “Any chance you can pick me up?”