The Sunburnt Country

by Palmer, Fiona

  Chapter 20

  DAN drummed his fingers on his knee as he waited for Zac. On Friday, Zac had called round to his place to tell Dan to keep Saturday afternoon free. He wouldn’t let on what he had planned but said Dan had to wear jeans and boots. ‘I don’t own boots,’ Dan had said and that’s when Zac had produced a worn pair from behind his back.

  ‘These should fit. JB has a hoof of a foot. You might need some thick socks.’

  As it turned out, they fitted okay. He stared at them now as he waited on the lounge. Knowing Zac was bound to have something extraordinary planned, Dan had put on his oldest pair of jeans, which still looked new. They sat over the old boots that were covered with dust, the leather scratched and worn. If these boots could talk, Dan bet they’d have stories like the old-timers.

  ‘Hey, Dan. You ready?’ Zac’s voice was followed by banging that rattled his screen door.

  ‘I like a punctual man,’ said Dan, pulling the door open. ‘So where are we off to at four o’clock on a Saturday arvo?’

  Zac stood in front of him with a shirt held out. ‘First you’ll have to put this on. It’s JB’s but he’s not around to use it.’

  Dan opened it out, noticing it was the same design that Zac was wearing. The collared shirt was blue from the chest up and black below.

  ‘Turn it around.’

  Dan did as he was told, and on the back stitched in white was Baxter Racing with the number seventy-three and some chequered flags underneath. He glanced back at Zac, a smile growing on his face.

  ‘Yep, we’re going racing. Well, actually, Jonny’s racing. We’re just the pit crew.’ Zac clicked his fingers. ‘C’mon. Change your shirt. Let’s go. Got a two-hour drive ahead of us.’

  Dan stripped off his T-shirt and threw it over the lounge before putting on the racing shirt. His fingers kept slipping with the buttons and when he finished he grabbed his wallet and sunnies and followed Zac out to his ute.

  During the drive, Dan couldn’t believe he was off to the speedway with a bloke who’d befriended him in an instant. Zac didn’t care that Dan had come from the city – not like Jonelle, who’d seemed to hold that over him like he had the plague. Still, the thought of getting to watch Jonelle race made him excited and nervous.

  Towards the end of the trip, he finally managed to ask Zac the one question on his mind.

  ‘Does Jonelle know that I’m coming?’

  ‘Nah. I haven’t spoken to her. Sometimes I can’t always get there, you know. Depends on what we’re doing on the farm. But thanks to the drought there’s no sheep or crops to bloody look after.’ Zac glanced at Dan. ‘Really, I think she just likes me there to cover her back in case she crashes.’

  ‘Oh.’ Dan didn’t like the sound of that.

  ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be right. And she loves having more pit crew to help scrape the mud off her car,’ said Zac.

  Mud. He could have guessed Zac had something dirty planned. ‘What else do we have to do?’

  ‘Not much unless something breaks or needs panelbeating. But hey, she’s the mechanic. I usually just sit back and hand her tools. But the pits are great. We pay our insurance and you can walk around and check out the other cars. I think they have sprint cars on tonight, too.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know how she can afford to race. It can’t be cheap,’ he said as he glanced across to Zac, who was sporting a few days’ growth of stubble.

  ‘Nah, it’s not. Jonny wanted to pull the pin but the speedway boys wouldn’t let her. Said she’s too good to quit so they all rallied behind her and got a heap of sponsorship that helped pay for her fees, tyres and whatever else. The club pays her fuel money to drive here as well.’

  ‘Really? Well, that’s kind.’ No wonder Jonelle had gone off at him in her shed that night when he’d more or less accused her of spending money she didn’t have. He made a mental note to apologise.

  ‘Here we are,’ said Zac as they came around a corner.

  There was a motorbike track just before the speedway entry. Cars were lining up to get in, some with trailers carrying speedway cars. After they paid at the gate they drove around the red-brick clubhouse, down to the commentator’s box, and parked.

  ‘The pits are just there. We have to go pay our insurance to enter. You can get food from the clubhouse, or else down in the pits they do pies and stuff.’

  The clubhouse was at the end of the first corner of the speedway track. Just in front of Zac’s ute was the halfway mark down the straight. Through the high fence around the racetrack, Dan could see a water truck going around, as well as some utes with flags streaming behind them. The track was sunk down a metre or so with a concrete wall as the outer barrier, and the spectators got a good view from their elevated positions. On the inside of the track was a fire ute, an ambulance and a cement pad covered with burnt rubber from previous burnouts.

  ‘It’s quite . . . um . . . disconcerting. I’m almost nervous,’ said Dan.

  Zac laughed. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I get that way just knowing Jonny’s going out there. This place has a vibe the moment you arrive. Like you know you’re gonna see some action.’ But then Zac made him even more nervous when he said, ‘Come on. Let’s go see Jonny.’

  They went to the top end of the pits where racing cars were still being brought in. Dan admired the yellow and black sprint car nearby as they filled in their paperwork and got their fluoro wristbands.

  ‘Cool. We’re set. Wanna have a look around?’ Zac pointed to the cars on the right. ‘The juniors, street stock and productions are mostly over here, and the sprint cars here, and quarter midgets down the back.’

  Zac led him past groups of people, most wearing pit crew shirts supporting their drivers, and through the sea of cars that were painted up in colours with their racing numbers on the sides and on the roofs. It was amazing that he was free to look inside the cars and even touch them. There was such a relaxed atmosphere as drivers checked their tyre pressure or topped up their fuel tanks. Cars were being revved all around like a garage band during sound check.

  Then Dan saw it: a blue car up near the grandstand. Jonelle’s Torana. While Zac was busy looking over another car, Dan saw Jonelle appear, hoisting a drum up on the boot of her car. She was wearing stitched black and blue racing overalls, even sexier than her work ones. As she bent to suck fuel through a hose before siphoning it into the fuel tank, Dan noticed that her hair had been pulled back in tight braids.

  Dan couldn’t take his eyes off her, raising his chances of being run over in the pits.

  ‘Let’s go see what needs doing,’ said Zac, clapping him on the back. ‘Hey, sis.’

  Jonelle looked up, spotted Zac and smiled. Then she saw Dan. Her eyes darted to his boots, then flashed back up to his face. He could tell she approved by the way the corner of her mouth twitched.

  ‘Wow. You guys look good. I have a pit crew. Wicked. I didn’t know you were coming, Dan?’

  ‘Yeah, neither did I,’ he said. He was beaming like an idiot but he couldn’t help it.

  Jonelle was still watching Dan when her fuel tank overflowed. She swore and pulled out the hose.

  ‘Anything need doing?’ asked Zac, as he took the fuel drum from her.

  ‘Nah. Good to go now. We could go grab a bite to eat. I need to settle my nerves.’

  ‘You get nervous?’ Dan asked as they walked towards the grandstand.

  ‘Hell, yes. I’m a bundle of nerves until my first race and then I calm down a bit.’

  Dan held the exit gate open for her then returned to her side. He was walking close enough that he could smell green apples from her hair.

  At the canteen, they got some hot chips and drinks that they took back to the pits. They climbed up the grandstand and sat at the top overlooking the track.

  Dan couldn’t wait for the action to start and found the pits fascinating. From the grandstand he only had to turn around and he had a bird’s-eye view of all the cars, the drivers and their pit crews. The smell of fuel
wafted about and it revved up his blood.

  He felt pressure against his shoulder as Jonelle nudged into him.

  ‘What do you think so far?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s pretty cool. I can’t wait until it starts.’ He was going to ask her a question when a guy in red racing overalls stepped up into the grandstand and said, ‘Jonny, drivers’ meeting is starting.’

  ‘All right. Thanks, Frankie.’

  Jonelle handed her chips to Zac and followed Frank down the stairs.

  Dan realised how male-dominated the pits were but this guy Frankie looked old enough to be Jonelle’s dad. He was hardly a threat.

  Stray thoughts came crashing through his mind. Could she be dating one of these other guys she races with? Had she ever? And the worst thing was, as much as he wanted to know these little details, he wasn’t game to ask Zac.

  He reminded himself that it didn’t matter anyway. He had just over a month left in Bundara and she was hardly the kind of girl who would ever move to the city. What was the point of dreaming?

  Chapter 21

  AS Jonny pulled on her helmet she could feel Daniel’s eyes on her, but she was convinced he was just staring out of curiosity. On the other hand, she took great delight in watching him from behind the visor of her helmet. It was so strange seeing him standing by her car in the pits, in real boots and a pit crew shirt too. It fit him as perfectly as his jeans did. He wasn’t bulky and ripped like Ted; he had more of a sleek and lean body shape. Dan was a whole new level of sexy and just for a moment she let herself picture a future with him. It wasn’t hard to do when he looked like he did today, like he belonged in her world.

  The setting sun caught the growth of stubble on his jawline and highlighted his strong cheekbones. He leaned against the racing car, his forearms flexed tight and firm.

  ‘Shit,’ she cursed, realising she’d forgotten to do up her helmet strap. She was distracted. Not what she needed before heading out to race. She started her car and gave the engine a few revs. While it warmed up, she pulled on her gloves and tightened the straps on her harness.

  Zac pushed past Dan and leaned in. ‘Stay on the track,’ he teased before he pulled her window net down and secured it into its clip.

  She waved to them both before reversing back and driving off to line up behind the gates to the track. And there was Mr Carstairs in his white coat. For as long as Jonny had been driving, Mr Carstairs had been on the gates. Always pointing to his chin to remind her about her helmet strap and then giving her the thumbs up for good luck. He’d been involved with the speedway for years, and even at his age he still volunteered at the club, not to mention Mrs Carstairs, who always ran the pit area tuckshop. It wouldn’t be speedway without either of them.

  Mr Carstairs pulled open the large gate and waved Jonny onto the track, as the street stock cars departed on the left-hand side.

  Jonny parked behind the third car on the inside line, seventh position out of a field of ten, and flicked on the fan for her radiator. One time she’d forgotten and wondered why the temperature had rocketed so high.

  Her left foot trembled against the clutch while she revved the accelerator with her right. The tin on the car reverberated and the motor rocked the car slightly. Her opponents came into position around her, their cars also revving as they waited for the rolling start.

  At nearly seven, the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, making the first race a hard one, especially coming out of the first corner. By her second race the night would have arrived and the big floodlights would illuminate the track. Jonny tried to spot Zac and Dan but the neck brace restricted her vision. The steward, up in his little box, waved the yellow flag and set the lights blinking. All the cars began to move and Jonny followed suit. They rumbled and bounced around the track, trying to keep their tight formation as they waited for the fourth turn and the green flag. Cameras flashed as they went down the back straight, while Jonny concentrated on seeing what the track was like. Nice and tacky, not many potholes or ridges yet, but up high it could still be wet and slippery.

  She felt a nudge from behind as they all bunched up. Moving around the last corner, she could hear the engines rev in front as the green light came on. Jonny pushed her foot down hard to the floor, keeping her bumper close to the car in front. Changing gear, she went into the first corner at speed, the car in front of her sticking to his line. She noticed the outside car drop behind as the inside line moved up a place. At the third corner, the car in front ran wide and she slipped in underneath, willing her car to move another place forward. She smiled as she settled in behind Frankie’s red Holden, mud flinging up from his tyres and affecting her vision.

  With one hand on the steering when, she hit the button on her mud eater, which rolled the plastic film on her helmet across, clearing her vision. Now she was back racing hard. She gritted her teeth as she tapped Frankie’s car when he slowed after hitting some sloppy mud on the track. He wouldn’t know who was behind him. Jonny didn’t know who was behind her, but she wasn’t worried about them, she was concentrating on the boys in front. After another lap, a black and white Ford swung wide, almost brushing the wall, allowing her to move up another place. Now she was sitting in fourth and waiting for Frank to slip up. Her chance came on the next turn when he pulled wide. She pushed harder into the corner, getting her car near his front wheel and giving her right to hold her line. By the end of the turn, she’d moved up to third. She had it easier getting past Alan – he was running half-track and she hugged the inside line to scoot under him. The last two laps were spent weaving behind Alan’s brother Dic in his yellow Ford, trying for an opening. But as the chequered flag dropped she had to settle for second place.

  In her next heat she would be starting fourth, which would give her a better chance at first place.

  They all slowed down, pulled off the track on the corner, headed back through the gates and into the pits as the sprint cars were pushed onto the track by the four-wheel motorbikes.

  Zac and Dan stood by Jonny’s spot. A small sign with Baxter 73 painted on it marked her area. The Narrogin club members all had their spots marked out.

  Stopping in a small cloud of dust, she undid her harness, peeled off her gloves and took off her helmet, while Zac opened up her window net.

  ‘Great race, sis. From seventh to second. Bloody brilliant.’

  By the time Jonny climbed out the window and flicked the mud from the top of her race suit, Dic was standing in front of her, helmet on his hip.

  ‘How long were you behind me?’ he asked, running his hand through his faded orange hair.

  ‘Only the last two laps. Did you see Greenie spin?’ she asked, as the adrenaline coursed through her body. She felt like she was flying as they discussed the race. Alan came up, nudged his brother’s shoulder, and mentioned some paint they’d swapped earlier in the race. Jonny loved the way the Hicks brothers joked with each other. It reminded her of racing with her own brothers on the farm. Few moments ever passed without some verbal mudslinging. Alan and Dic went off to check who had lost the most paint.

  Jonny chuckled and glanced at Zac, who’d already shown Dan how to use the scraper to peel the mud off the front of the car.

  ‘Good race, Jonny,’ said Frankie as he walked past. ‘You know I let you in, right?’ he teased.

  ‘Yeah, sure, sure.’ Jonny went to fill up the bucket to wash down the car.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ she said, putting the full bucket down and chucking the sponge into it. Dan looked at her, his sunnies now perched on his head in the dying light.

  ‘Awesome racing, Jonny. I’m impressed,’ he said with a grin.

  She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. ‘Thanks, Dan.’

  All three of them worked on scrubbing the car until the panels were clean and her sponsorship stickers were visible again.

  ‘Now I see the benefit of boots,’ said Dan, as he glanced down. Even his jeans were splashed with rust-red spots of mud.

  ‘Wait unt
il the end of the night and the track dries out. It can get real dusty. It ends up caked on your skin and in your hair.’ Jonny smiled, enjoying the pump from racing and the way Dan was looking at her with such awe. It was nice to inspire that kind of reaction. ‘Shall we go watch the sprinters?’

  They headed to the grandstand and sat about halfway up. There were heaps of people watching already and they had to squeeze into a small space. Jonny was pressed up hard against Dan. Even through clothing, he felt warm. He smelt like the rain on a cool breeze and she tried hard not to lean into him.

  ‘I haven’t had this much fun in years,’ he said, bending towards her ear when there was a lull in the race after two sprint cars tangled.

  ‘You need to get out more. Get a hobby or something. Life’s not all about work. Isn’t that the only reason why we work so hard, so we can do the fun stuff afterwards?’

  ‘Well, being around you, I’m starting to think so.’

  Dan brushed her hand. It was just a quick touch of fingers but it was enough to send Jonelle’s pulse pounding. Swallowing hard, she turned to Zac.

  ‘I’m going to the canteen for chocolate. You want anything?’

  ‘Nah. I’m cool.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Dan as she rose and squeezed past him.

  She kept her eyes focused on where she was walking, not wanting to see the desire in his eyes. It wasn’t helping her resolve. At the bottom of the grandstand, she snuck a glance back, only to find him still watching her. It was as if they were the only two in the whole grandstand, and it was starting to drive her crazy. She turned, bumping into someone in the process, and made a hasty exit towards the clubhouse.