by Daya Daniels
I don’t mention that the prize money for being an indie driver isn’t shit and that it’s maybe around two thousand dollars. But it’s the rankings I need more than the money, so still I plan to race in that shitty little drift league.
“Yeah, good luck with that. I’ll be happy to see when you do go pro, Nevada.” Sheriff Abs wipes her sweaty face again with the handkerchief in her hand. “I just thought I’d mention what the penalties are for illegal racing in the state of California, Racehead, before you go.” She lifts a brow.
“They are—” Banks starts before Vashti slaps a hand over his mouth.
I wave a hand around. “No need, Sheriff Abs, I already know them. I know most of the laws around this place. Honestly, I don’t know why you feel the need to reiterate them, to me.”
Sheriff Abs smirks, then inhales a deep breath that moves her whole torso up and then down. “Well, okay then. You seem to have it all covered.” She places a hand on the car door and caresses the metal. “This is a nice ride, Nevada. I’d hate to see it impounded and you in cuffs along with your band of law breakers.”
I jerk my head back. “Sheriff Abs, I don’t have many friends, regardless of how it looks. And the ones I do have never break the law. We respect it. And we revere women like you—the ones who are in charge and run the cities they live in and who command respect. Honestly, I want to be just like you when I grow up, Sheriff Abs. I respect you.”
“Uh huh.” Sheriff Abs’ white teeth glint against the burning sun.
“So, really we should be going.” I gesture with hand toward the highway.
Sheriff Abs breathes deep. “Yes, okay, sorry to delay the three of you.” She taps on the hood. “You’re free to go. You have a nice day at the beach, Banks.” She backs away from the car when it starts up.
“Thank you, Sheriff Abs!” Banks snaps himself back into his seat belt.
Yeah, thank you, Sheriff Abs.
I gesture goodbye with two of my fingers before the Cuda pulls out back on the highway.
“Well, that was weird,” Vashti grumbles.
No, it wasn’t.
“She’s just sniffing around.” I focus on the road.
Sheriff Abs doesn’t know jack. All she goes on are the reports—or rumors—when a smashed-up car returns to The Valley or some asshole books themselves into Riverside Community Hospital with a broken finger or a gash to the forehead. Other than the tire tracks which have likely been left on the roads in The Badlands, Sheriff Abs doesn’t have any concrete information to go on. But, she’s always close. Her suspicions are never far off.
What happens during the night hours is bound to come out in the daylight, right?
And as far as Sheriff Abs is concerned, I’m the ringleader of the circus.
My thoughts go for one very long stroll of what ifs into a shitty mine field…
“The kids at school, Nevada, tell me that you’re a racecar driver.” Banks grins.
“Yeah, I am.” I meet his adorable eyes in the rear-review mirror.
“I think that’s super-cool, Nevada.” Banks nods.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“I think so too.” Vashti smiles, white and beaming. “I think so too.”
Vashti
NEVADA HAS BEEN QUIET.
It’s eleven o’clock in the morning.
The sky is bright. The seagulls dip and dance in the sky, crying out as they do, and the warm sun beats down on my bare shoulders. The salty spray of the ocean washes over us and the white sand beneath my feet is comforting.
Banks strolls plays with some kids along the shoreline which is odd but nevertheless entertaining. We laugh when he attempts a somersault and lands on his ass in the sand.
I smooth my hand over my sunblock-slathered skin debating when exactly I’m going to balk and crawl my way beneath the open umbrella next to us that’s standing and providing shade only to the sand. I’ve been in the ocean twice already, and now my hair is still damp, and my skin is salty.
Banks is full of hot dogs and cotton candy. Nevada had even purchased a pair of goggles for him to go into the water with. It’s been a great morning.
Nevada’s been fiddling with the piston in her hand for over an hour, spinning it and tossing it up in the air, making love to it with her eyes.
She’s wearing a teeny tiny yellow bikini and jean shorts to cover up the bottoms. She doesn’t shrink away from the sun like I do. I guess she’s used to working outdoors mostly since she drives that wrecker around most days. I’m an indoor girl since I’m either beneath the roof of a building or sitting in an air-conditioned classroom.
“The Trip” by Still Corners blares from the boom box behind us which belongs to a crew of girls and guys. They drink. They laugh. They make all sorts of racket.
A few of them keep their focus on Nevada.
My guess is they all know each other or at least they know who Nevada is.
Nevada doesn’t pay any attention, only gazes out at the blue sea and fiddles with that piston in her hand.
I scoot closer next to where she sits. “What’s the deal with that?” I gesture with my chin at the object, then swipe a lock of Nevada’s hair away from her right eye.
“It’s a part.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I know that, but what’s it for exactly?”
“It goes to an engine I’ve stripped down and am currently in the process of rebuilding, only I’m not quite there yet. This part will change how it performs. It will change everything.” A tiny breath leaves her. “If after all the changes I’ve made, there’s still not enough torque in the engine then all the work I’m doing will just be wasted. Too much torque and the engine could explode leaving the car a dud of smoke at the race line. It’s important I get it all just right.”
I lower my head. “Do you think I could help you with it?” My offer comes with the weakest of unspoken assurances. It’s only been in the past few weeks that I’ve even truly understood much of the classwork I’ve been assigned. It’s possible that this engine Nevada is trying to rebuild, with my input, could possibly blow up her entire garage and the junkyard too.
Her pretty grays meet mine. “Yeah, I think you could, honestly?”
I smirk. “Do you have the fire department on stand-by?”
We laugh.
“No, but they know where I live.” Laughing, she hooks her arm around my neck and pulls me close.
I melt and not just from the sun but from the closeness that feels so familiar and right. “I know you believe in me.” I fiddle with the soft sand, teasing it with my palm, allowing the hot grains to slip through my fingertips.
“I do.” She smiles. “And I know you believe in me too, V.”
“I absolutely do.”
“I need help with this engine rebuilding thing and Ash is too busy to lend a hand. And with everything you’ve been learning in your classes, I think you’d be a great asset to help me with this.”
I sigh.
“You will be, Vashti, trust me.”
Her sweet words float on the waves crashing in which soothe my spirit.
“What exactly are you planning to put this engine in when it’s done?” My brow lifts.
“A red 1970 Ford Mustang.”
“Niccccce.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” A tiny smirk tugs at her lips. “Do you know where the term muscle car came from?” Her eyes narrow as she looks out to waves cresting before they hit the shoreline and send white foam everywhere.
And I realize the question isn’t so much for me. But for some other reason.
“Yeah, from the dictionary.”
Nevada pokes me in the side.
Laughing and dodging her friendly assault, I tell her the rest. “In order for it to be considered a ‘muscle car.’ It has to be American—two doors, powerful engine, designed for high-performance driving.”
“Well, this won’t just be a muscle car, V. This will be a super car…I’ve sprayed it up and have gutted it. I’ve welded a mass
ive scoop on the hood so that the engine can breathe better. Right now, the car is just a heavy shell. There are no seats in the back. There’s no passenger seat either. Only reinforcement bars line the inside of the bad girl for now. The rest of the space has been left open for the nitrous tanks.”
“Nitrous?” My stomach liquifies at the word.
Nitrous.
The colorless gas which possesses a sweet odor. Highly reactive. Accelerates combustion. It’s a fire and explosion risk if it makes contact with combustible and flammable material. It’s shit that needs to be handled with care, just like the warning stuck on the outside of the tanks tells the user.
Where is the fire department relative to Syd’s garage located again?
“Yes, nitrous. I need it for this race.”
“Okay.”
Nevada exhales. “The shit is expensive. But as you know you need to spend a little money to make a lot of money.”
“Yeah, that’s what they say.”
She kisses my cheek and then my lips and then soon I’m kissing her back softly.
Banks is attempting more cartwheels along the shoreline then jogs away from the group of kids in his vicinity. They follow him and then the group are back in the water, splashing and laughing.
“How did you know about the birthday thing?” I meet Nevada’s eyes.
She shrugs. “I didn’t. I just guessed. You’ve both been pretty miserable all morning even though you smile. I could just tell something was off.”
“Oh, gosh. I didn’t think it was that obvious.”
Nevada hums in answer. “Banks is a really cool kid.”
“I think maybe you put him in a better mood. Usually, whatever I say just makes him pricklier and then we spend the day sifting through photographs reminiscing and talking about what used to be. I know losing our mom at such a young age has been hard on him. Banks always asks me if he will forget her. What she looked like. What she smelled like. The soft sound of her voice. And it makes him so sad. So, I tell him we never forget the people we love.”
“We don’t.”
“And that works for just a while to calm him…but it’s only temporary until the sadness hits him again.”
Banks waves in our direction.
We wave back.
“Today is the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time.” I smile. “He loves school and summer school.” I choke back a laugh at my statement. “He’s super smart. Often, I think he’s smarter than the frickin’ teacher. Banks loves it here in our new home even though it’s super tiny and a world away from Assam.”
“Does he ever ask about your dad?”
“No, never.” I sigh. “I’ve never explored the meaning of that. Honestly, I just assume Banks hates him. Just like I do.”
Nevada’s gray eyes pin me, but she keeps her words to herself.
“Maybe I’m more upset about Vijay’s abandonment than Banks is.” I laugh a little. “I’ve accepted that, I think.”
Nevada presses her nose into my cheek. “I was thinking we should catch a movie afterwards…whatever Banks wants to see and then we could have dinner somewhere around here before we head back to Riverside.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I like hanging out with the two of you. I really do. Banks teaches me a lot of things about this state I never really knew.” Nevada giggles. “And I love being in your company, specifically, just doing nothing, talking a lot of shit.”
“Yeah, me too.” I slap the hot sand.
The party behind us gets louder.
I glance over my shoulder and find the kids behind us still staring. “Do you know them?”
“Yeah, sort of. A few of the guys over there I’ve raced before on the drift track. They’ll be there at the next one too attempting to walk away with a win. Trust me, they aren’t staring because they’re fans, Vashti, or because they have some sort of reverence for me. They’re glaring because they probably want to crack my skull wide fucking open. Or drag me down to the shoreline and drown me.”
“Oh.” I face Nevada.
“And of course, they hate the fact that I’m not one of their bimbo chicks. You know the severely braindead ones over there who are hard up for a piece of every one of those boys. Not interested. No thank you. I like girls just like those boys do. And it kills them…”
“I bet.” I caress her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
“It’s not easy being a girl and doing this racing shit. It comes with a lot of shit.”
“I wonder how Danica does it then.”
Nevada laughs. “With a lot of fucking belief in herself, I’m sure. A good team. A supportive family. And surrounded by fans who want to see her succeed.” She scratches her nose quickly. “It’s a simple recipe. It’s the reason I push on still.”
I nod.
Nevada examines the engine part again for a few seconds.
“We’re going to rebuild an engine.” Nothing but fear laces my tone.
I’ll need my text books, a diving mask, a flame-retardant suit and a whole buncha prayers.
“Yes, we are, V.” Nevada takes up a handful of sand and lets it slip between her fingers the same way time is. “And this super car we’re building is going to sing. It’s going to scream and shout right to the goddamn finish line.”
Nevada
I HATE THE DOUBT I see in Vashti’s beautiful face. She’s smart as a whip. And soon she’s going to be one of the best mechanical engineers around.
I pull her in to my side and keep my eyes on the remarkable blue sea ahead that my skin is begging to feel on it once more before this day ends. “What are you going to do about your dad?”
Vashti stiffens then shifts her position to look at me. “What do you mean?”
I lift a shoulder. “I guess I mean like what are you planning to do? Are you going to ever knock on that door you told me about? Or do you plan to just continue going by their neighborhood like a creeper?” A tiny smile tugs at my mouth.
Vashti exhales and drags her fingers through her tresses. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s just all so weird. We’re his kids and it’s as if we don’t even exist. I haven’t heard his voice since I was a teenager. There are messages that move between him and Aunt Matilda, but they are seldom and they’re never about anything important.”
“I see.”
She breathes. “I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t like talking about it either. It puts me in a bad mood. If I ever did go and talk to my dad, it would be for Banks.”
“And not for you?” My brows crash together.
“No, not for me. Definitely not for me. What can he do for us seriously?”
“I don’t know, Vashti, but if you never speak to him, how will you ever find out?” I stroke her hair and glance over my shoulder to find the party still going on. The goons keep their eyes focused on me. When Vashti faces toward the beach, I toss the finger at them far behind me then drive it right on in with a few R-rated gestures.
“Oh, fuck you, Racehead!” One loser calls out.
“Let see how much of a dick you can be at the drift track!” Another asshole mutters.
“I’ll take that finger and break it, you bitch.” The third one drawls.
Vashti twists around. “What’s going on back there?”
I nudge her to face out to the water. “Nothing, nothing, just a bunch of idiots talking a lot of shit they won’t be able to say at the race track when they lose. Please don’t worry about them.” I smile.
Vashti’s thin brows dip down to her nose. “Were they calling you a bitch?”
I laugh. “I’m used to it. If you want to be in this sport you got to get used to being called out your name. It doesn’t bother me. I can handle the name-calling. But if I stood up and called one of them a ‘pussy’ they’d want to throw fists my way.” I suck my teeth.
“They’re assholes.” Vashti looks back at the group.
“Yeah, they are.” I drop the spark plug in the sand and stare at it for
a while then my eyes are back on Vashti’s browns and then Banks who is frolicking in the water with the rest of the kids.
Banks’ dark hair is stuck to his face. Like a wet mop, it all covers his left eye. He laughs and swipes it away from his skin.
“God, I miss being a kid.” I chuckle.
“I don’t.” Vashti grumbles. “All I can dream about these days is getting a real job so I don’t have to work at the Chicken Shack anymore.” She giggles. “By the end of the year, I’m going to look like a fucking chicken. Wings, feathers and all.”
I press my lips together. “You’re going to graduate, V.”
“I hope so.”
“Oh, and I want to move out of the tiny house I currently live in very soon. It’s a nice neighborhood and I have the coolest landlord. But it’s small and Banks and I have to share a bedroom.” She groans. “It’s just not ideal. Ruby, my landlord, who wants to meet you…”
A fan?
Vashti continues to speak. “Has a much bigger place for rent, but of course it costs more. As soon as I can afford it, I’m moving out of that cramped telephone booth of a house.”
“I don’t think I can say much about that, Vashti, since I live in the corner of a garage.” I chuckle. “It isn’t my plan to live there forever, but for now, that’s where I lay my head at night.”
“Why don’t you stay in the house with Syd?”
Good question.
Because I hate Syd’s snoring.
And her rules.
And I can’t stand her judgments about what I do with my time.
Not to mention how Syd’s always on me about the speeding tickets I’ve picked up when I’ve been out working in the wrecker!
“Well, Syd and I don’t really get along sometimes. We tend to bump skulls sometimes over matters.” I suck in a salty breath and shut my eyes. “Syd supports me in my legal racing career. She’ll have nothing to do with what I do after hours though, nothing.” My eyes pop open to Banks’ laughter. “Besides, I like my privacy. Syd likes hers too. So about three years ago, I moved out the bedroom I have in the house and moseyed right on in to the garage.”