Revver had no time to think! He pressed his back against the metal behind him and braced himself with his paws. He was headed out of the garage and back onto the track.
The driver pulled onto the track and picked up speed, faster, faster, and faster. The turn pushed Revver into the corner of the car, and the force held him there tightly. When the car straightened, the intense speed pressed so hard on the little squirrel that he was sure he would fly right through the back of the car.
The sound! The shaking! The speed! His ears, his whiskers, every strand of his fur, and even his paws were all plastered back. His mouth was in the shape of a huge O. His eyes were opened wide in fear. His memories flashed: He remembered falling out of the nest. He remembered the hawk. He remembered seeing the giant, angry monst—Well, he remembered seeing the car through the wall for the first time. Those times, he had been SCARED. Now, he was TERRIFIED.
But something began to happen after the first, frightening lap. Revver began to relax. He started to focus on what was happening. The more he paid attention, the more excited he became. His insides quivered! By the third lap, his excitement had turned into pure joy. “I can’t believe it! I’m here! I’m really here! I’m racing! I’m fast!” He was screaming! He wanted to jump for joy, but the force of the speed had him pressed hard against the back of the car.
His excitement had been welling up since the moment he first touched the car, and by the start of lap five, he could not hold it in a second more: “Vr-vr-vr-VRRROOOOM!”
The driver quickly downshifted and slowed. Revver fell forward, right onto his nose, and scurried to hide himself again. The driver said into his headset, “It was running great, but now it’s making a really weird sound, and I just heard a little thump. I’m gonna bring ’er in so you can take a quick look.”
“Uh-oh,” Revver whispered under the engine noise.
The driver brought the car back into the garage. The crew chief spoke to the driver through the window opening. Revver tried to make himself as small as possible behind the seat, with a metal can helping to hide him.
Finally, the driver turned off the engine, pulled off the steering wheel, lowered the window net, and slipped out of the window opening. Revver could hear him talking to the crew chief. “Maybe it was just some feedback on the radio,” he heard. “It was lookin’ awfully good out there.” Revver, despite himself, nodded with excitement, as best as a squirrel can nod.
Revver jumped onto the driver’s seat and slowly peeked up for a look. Everyone seemed to have their backs to the car. Here’s my chance! He leapt out the window and ran under the car for another peek. “Clear!” he whispered again as he ran, full speed, out of the garage, to a hiding spot behind the garage wall.
Once he was under cover, Revver patted himself from the top of his head to the tips of his toes to the end of his furry tail. “Not even a tiny bit flat!” he pronounced.
He was safe. For now.
21
Revver sat outside, against the garage wall. He replayed the last few exciting moments in his mind, again and again. He could hardly believe they had really happened!
The growling of his stomach broke his concentration. “I guess I’ve missed breakfast! And lunch!” He was about to head toward some trees in the infield garage area to find something to eat, but a sound interrupted his thoughts and made him curious.
He peeked through the door opening to see. In another part of the garage, a young man was doing something very interesting. A wheel was mounted to a panel, and the man held a special tool against five bright-yellow pieces inside, turning them magically: zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht!
“Ooooh!” He sat and stared, mesmerized. He’s working on the go-a-rounds! Revver forgot all about being hungry as he watched the man working.
Zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht!—five times fast. Then a break. Then again. Zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht! And again.
The human stood tall to stretch. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Revver standing in the doorway. They stared at each other, but neither of them moved.
“Hey, fella,” the man finally said in a soft, slow voice, “whatcha doin’ in here?”
Revver watched the man carefully. The man looked at Revver. Then the man let out a little laugh. “You’re awfully cute, aren’t ya?” Revver kept watching. He was ready to run away if things turned scary.
“Hmm,” the man said, still looking at Revver, “lemme see what I’ve got here . . .” The man dug into the pocket of his coveralls. “Do ya like peanuts? I’ve got some here.” The man moved very slowly and very carefully toward Revver. He placed something on the shiny white floor of the garage entrance and slowly backed away.
Revver did not move. He kept his eyes on the human. Finally, Revver took a few steps closer and sniffed the object. It smelled delicious. His stomach growled again. Carefully, Revver nibbled. It tasted delicious! Now he felt braver. With caution, he moved closer to the man.
The man laughed again. “Ya like those, huh? Have ya had peanuts before? Okay, fella, here’s a couple more.” The man set two more little objects in front of Revver and, this time, Revver ate them without hesitating.
The human carefully came closer to Revver and kneeled in front of him. Revver stayed on guard, watching to see what would happen, still ready to run. The man s-l-o-w-l-y moved his hand toward Revver and gently rubbed the top of Revver’s head and behind his ears. It felt so good—like when Mama or Sprite rubbed his ears. Revver felt safe. He leaned in for more petting. “Well, I’ll be darned,” the man whispered, laughing a little again. “Aren’t you somethin’?”
After a while, the man slowly stood up. “Well, buddy, I gotta get back to work. You better scat out now, ’fore someone sees ya.” The man gently nudged Revver toward the door. Revver went outside but did not go far. He peeked in through the door crack again, watching while the man went back to working. The noise started up again: zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht-zhhht! Revver could not stop watching the man work.
Suddenly Revver heard a loud CLUNK! as something sparked against the floor and bounced high, nearly hitting the man in the face before bouncing away.
“Nuts,” the man grumbled.
The squirrel awoke from his trance and gulped. “NUTS?!” Revver suddenly realized that he was still VERY hungry. Without stopping to think, he quickly chased after what had fallen.
With a jolt, he caught it and popped it right into his mouth. It sat on his tongue for a moment. No nutty sweetness. Cold . . . and way too hard. Hmm . . . , he thought. Not acorn. Not walnut. Not peanut . . .
Immediately, Revver knew he’d made a big mistake. He had not remembered to smell it first! He started to choke! He was panicking. Finally, he coughed and spit it out onto the floor. Clank!
The man, whose concentration had been broken by the ruckus, started laughing. He walked over to Revver, who continued to stare at the object on the floor. The man knelt down and picked up the runaway object in his gloved hand.
“Not the kind of nut you expected, eh? This is a LUG nut, friend,” the man said, chuckling. He had such a kind voice.
LUG. NUT. Revver paid attention to the words.
“Ya don’t wanna eat THOSE, that’s for sure! Made of metal and all. But whew! That was a mighty fine bit of fetching! What brings you here to the track, little guy? Are you a racin’ fan?”
Revver nodded, as best as a squirrel can nod. The man had never seen a squirrel—or any animal—nod. It was, as best as he could tell, a very HUMAN kind of nod.
The man jumped back in surprise. “Whoa!” The man stood and thought quietly for a very long time. Finally, he asked softly, a little afraid, “Can you understand me, little dude?”
Revver nodded again.
“WHOA!” the man shouted again, but this time VERY LOUDLY.
The shout brought several other crew members rushing over. “What’s goin’ on, Bill? You okay?!” one of them asked.
“U-um,” Bill stuttered, “I’m, I’m, I’m not
sure y’all will believe this!”
The crew looked at Bill and followed Bill’s eyes down to the floor to look at Revver. Revver looked up at everyone.
22
“We’ll never believe that a squirrel got into the garage?” one of the crew asked, chuckling as he chewed something.
“Yeah, that’s UNBELIEVABLE, Bill. Call the reporters, quick!” Now everyone was chuckling.
“No, no, no, not that. Now, listen, this is gonna sound strange, but just listen. I SWEAR that this critter can understand what I’m saying to him,” said Bill.
Everyone laughed again.
“Hilarious, Bill! What’s the joke?”
“No, no joke—I’m not kidding. I’m serious. I mean, I think I am. I mean, maybe . . .”
“Bill, maybe the fumes are gettin’ to ya,” one man said, and everyone laughed again.
“Wait,” Bill said. “Y’all just watch this.” Then Bill knelt down again, facing Revver. “Okay, buddy, tell the crew here: Are you a racing fan?”
Revver nodded again, a very HUMAN kind of nod.
A wave of surprise went through the crew.
“NO way!”
“Holy smokes!”
“That did NOT just happen!”
“Well, I’ll BE!”
“Wait a minute, Bill. This is some kind of trick, right? How’d you do it?”
“Dude, I promise you, I just met this critter when he came in a few minutes ago. I haven’t had time to teach him any tricks.”
Someone said, “All right, well, maybe it’s just a coincidence. Ask him somethin’ else.”
“Okay,” Bill said, still kneeling in front of Revver. “Little fella, do you like nuts?”
Revver nodded again.
“Well, I’ll be DARNED.” A woman’s voice spoke up this time. “I’ll admit, that’s a little weird!”
“Wait. Maybe he nods to everything you ask ’im. Ask ’im a ‘no’ question.”
“Oh, good idea. Okay. Hmm.” Bill thought a moment. Then he looked back down to Revver and said, “Well, okay, do you like, uhh . . .” Bill kept thinking. “Bears?” he said finally.
Revver shook his head quickly. That was a definite no—a very HUMAN no!
“If we weren’t all seeing this together, I’d think the fumes might be gettin’ to ME!”
“I see it, but I’m not sure I even believe it!”
“Maybe we’re ALL goin’ a little nutty?” said one of the men.
“Well, YOU are, but that’s nothin’ new.” Everyone laughed again.
Revver did not understand the joke, so he just looked around at all the faces.
“Maybe he’s hungry,” someone suggested.
Bill reached into his pocket, pulled out another peanut, and handed it to the little squirrel, who sat on his hind legs. Revver eagerly took it and crunched away. Others handed him other things to try, but this time Revver remembered to sniff each new thing. He took a potato chip, a baby carrot, and a small piece of a candy bar. Someone gave him the crust off a peanut butter sandwich, which Revver found DELIGHTFUL, but it made his mouth awfully dry and sticky. He tried to clear the peanut butter from the top of his mouth, making loud clicking noises.
“Give the poor guy somethin’ to drink,” another voice spoke out.
Bill had a green bottle with a colorful label sitting nearby. He took a small cap and filled it with the liquid.
Revver approached the cap cautiously. He tried hard to remember: How DID a squirrel know if water was safe to drink? He thought and thought, trying hard to remember. Then, deep down in his memory, he heard his mother’s voice from Squirrel School: The rules are look and smell. You should be able to see through it. It should look fresh and smell tasty. He remembered!
He looked. The liquid had a slight color, but he could see through it. He smelled it, and it smelled sweet and good, but it made a strange fizzy sound. Hmm . . . He wasn’t sure, but his mouth felt miserably sticky. He was getting desperate.
Bill’s voice said, “Go ahead, fella. It’s okay.” For some reason, Revver just knew he could trust this man they called “Bill.”
Revver took a teeny, tiny taste. It was sweet. It was DELICIOUS! Immediately, Revver gulped down the rest, and Bill quickly refilled the cap four more times. Revver quickly finished each serving, bubbles and all.
“There you go, buddy. Feel better?” asked Bill.
Revver started to nod, but, instead, a long, loud, satisfied BURP! came out of him.
The crew broke out laughing.
“Well, he certainly fits in with this group!”
Revver, not too sure of what had just happened, looked around at the laughing group and smiled, as best as a squirrel can smile.
“I think we’ll just stick to water from now on, bud,” Bill said to Revver.
There were some scattered giggles, and then Bill asked, almost afraid of the answer, “Okay, little guy, um, you can’t talk or anything, can you?”
Revver spoke up immediately. “Of course I can talk! I’m a SQUIRREL! Can we talk about RACING?! I just LOVE racing! My mother and my sister and brothers think cars are DANGEROUS, but I think they are AMAZING and EXCITING and just, so, so FAST! I love everything fast! The size of them took some getting used to! Well, you understand, right? No one ever understands, but I think YOU just might because, well, you know . . .” Revver inhaled and continued. “So please tell me all about cars! I have so much to learn. They seem so amaz . . .”
Revver stopped to look at the man’s face, and then he looked around at all the others and saw only confused looks. He realized that, although he could clearly understand Human, humans were hopeless at understanding Squirrel.
Bill started to chuckle and ran his hand through his hair. He said to the crew, “Well, that’s a relief, right, y’all? They’d have had us to the medic in about two seconds flat if we said we had a talking squirrel in the garage!”
Everyone laughed.
“Okay,” said Bill, “how about this: Do you have a name—you know, somethin’ we could call you?”
Revver nodded again enthusiastically, as best as a squirrel can nod.
“Okay,” the man said, “well, I’m Bill, and that there is Jeff, and that’s Susan, and that’s Ashley, and that big dude there is Trevor, and that goof-ball there is Brandon, and that guy over there is Doug . . .” One by one, Bill introduced the entire crew.
Revver looked around at each person as Bill introduced them, trying to memorize their names and faces. He wasn’t sure what any of the names meant, but he was very relieved that no one was named Farty.
“So help us out: How ’bout your name . . . ? What should we call you?”
Revver steadied himself, planted his feet firmly on the floor, took in a deep breath, and from deep within the little squirrel came the GIGANTIC, BOOMING, “Vr-vr-vr-VRRROOOOM!”
Everyone jumped back in surprise.
“Holy tailpipes!” someone yelled.
The whole group stared at the little creature standing on the shiny floor of the garage.
Bill asked gently, “Little fella, can you do that again?”
Revver nodded and once again ROARED—loud enough to vibrate the garage floor.
“Is that your name?” Bill asked.
Revver nodded, as best as a squirrel can nod.
“Well, now, I have no idea how to say that, buddy. That’s more like a sound effect than a name. Sounds like you’re revving a car. You’re a little revver!”
Revver nodded wildly, better than any squirrel had ever nodded.
“What? Revver? Does that name sound about right for ya, little guy?”
Revver bounded over to Bill’s feet and nodded again.
“Okay, little guy, um, Revver—it’s nice to know you.” Bill moved closer to the squirrel and whispered, “Hey, can we show ’em what else you can do?” as he held up a lug nut.
Revver nodded again as Bill tossed a lug nut high, toward the ceiling. Revver immediately leapt, caught the nut in midair
, and dropped it down gently at Bill’s feet.
Amid the oohs and aahs, the squirrel stood on his hind legs and looked around at the crew in amazement. There Revver stood, the center of attention, right in the middle of a real race team.
The crew was awestruck. And so was Revver.
23
“All right, folks,” Bill said. “Race day’s comin’ quick. We gotta get back to work.”
“So what are we gonna do with him?” Trevor asked Bill, pointing down at Revver. “You want me to grab a broom and shoo him out?”
“Can’t we keep him round? He’s awfully sweet,” someone answered.
“Oh, right! Big Jack would just love that!” said someone else. “He’d welcome a rodent hanging around his team, messin’ things up.”
Revver was not sure what a rodent was, but it did not sound like something good. Revver, eyes filled with hope, looked up at Bill.
Someone else spoke up. “Bill, how many times have we heard Jack say, ‘No fur or filth allowed. This is a spotless operation!’ He won’t even let his own family dog in here!”
Bill ran his hand through his hair as he looked down at Revver. “Well, he might not mess things up too badly . . .”
Laughing, Susan pointed at the floor behind Revver. “I suppose ole Jack would be thrilled with squirrel turds all over his shiny floor, then.”
Sure enough, Revver had dropped a few in all the excitement.
Bill bent over toward Revver and pointed at the poop. “Any chance you might be able to try to keep this OUTside?” Revver looked and sniffed. He studied the issue carefully. Surely he could remember not to poop in the garage! Revver nodded quickly as he thought hard . . . He added another note to his brain burrow: No pooping in the garage.
Bill continued. “Tell ya what, then. I’ll make you a deal, Revver. How ’bout if I put you to work for a while? If you pick up the lugs I drop and bring ’em back to me, I’ll trade ya for these.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a peanut. “That’ll save me from having to sweep these up later,” he said, holding up the lug nut with his other hand. Bill gently set down the big, salty, delicious peanut. Revver did not hesitate to take the peanut and nibble.
Revver the Speedway Squirrel Page 5
