by Zoe Adams
She was gone in the dark and left a note on her good friends’ door, explaining that this was her way of being on her way. She was bad at goodbyes, but always found her way home.
Indiana went back to school and pushed herself toward graduating. The Christmas vacation had sparked a much needed burst of speed inside her.
Chapter 16
February came around and Indiana turned eighteen. The huge pivot point made her feel older. All of her school achievements and other worldly successes played a huge part in making her feel accomplished.
She went to class on her birthday and bravely got through the day. She entered her dorm room later in the afternoon. Flowers and gifts were already there. She looked at the thoughtful arrangements. This time the sea of flowers held no comfort in the overwhelming scents and promise of life. She knew every flower would wilt in a week, and be dead in a month.
She picked up one arrangement and held it up. There was a card attached at the base, and she opened it slowly.
Best regards on this day, and every day.
Richard S.
She studied the card. It almost hurt to wonder how he was doing. Indiana kept one plant out and the rest were given away. She felt better when the room looked less like a sickbay.
The next day was the anniversary of her father’s passing. It had been three years, but it seemed like ages had gone by. It would always be the day after her birthday. The milestone of her life changing so drastically and taking a familial downward spiral would take years, if ever, to become less of a heartache.
Indiana spent the day in solitude. It was normal to mourn the great man who had been her father. She wasn’t the only one to miss him. TV and businessmen mourned him as well. This was her one day a year to relish the misery that had become her life.
But she refused to dwell on it longer than a day. Soon she would be the one driving a fast car. The thought of driving fast and winning long races always perked her right up.
A few weeks later she graduated college. Indiana gave the commencement address. She spoke about time and how sometimes it was a gift and sometimes a curse, and it never passed the way that you wanted it to. Her analogy of rushing through a yellow light and the next day trying to stop in time to avoid another ticket had brought polite snickers and restrained approval from the crowd.
She had been given a huge head start in life. Everyone smiling up at her couldn’t believe her age or charisma. Indiana couldn’t believe it herself.
She looked down at the group of people before her and tried to remember the look of a milestone. Indiana had surpassed everyone’s expectations of her. It was a feeling she wanted to have forever.
The Atwater and Bernstein families stood out from the crowd. Ellen Bernstein-Atwater wore a sharp business suit in the school’s colors. It had big shiny buttons that were a lightweight version of gold. A large necklace, hair combs, and bracelets also caught the bright afternoon sun and twinkled.
Tommy was wearing bright eyes and checking out the nearby girls. Frank wore respect and a casual business suit. Indiana smiled at her family.
All of her schooling was over. The rest of the things she needed to learn would come from people and places rather than textbooks and theory. It left Indiana feeling half fulfilled. Graduating was only one part of the plan. Her inner core had solid resolution. She decided on her path a long time ago and nothing would hinder her future.
Since her brain and body were suddenly considered fully developed, Indiana was no longer forced into anything. All of the energy previously used for attaining goals and denying emotional sways was redirected toward her love of fast cars.
Chapter 17
Indiana began the next chapter of her life answering to the yearning for space. Indiana drove to her hidden retreat.
Returning her foot to the accelerator on the lonely road helped fill a void. Racing those lines never got old. The cool air rushing through her frame was a welcome relief. The solitude quit scaring her a while ago.
At first she thought it would just be a quick stint. But then legalities began to show up regarding her money. The stalling felt intentional. Indiana swore her mom was keeping her from racing on purpose.
A few days had turned into a month. Indiana wondered how long she would wait. Indiana raced past the falling stands and stopped at the sight of a visitor.
She backed up to the unloading truck creating shade. Then she saw the banker from the diner. He adjusted his ramps to lower a yellow dragster.
“Hi, Mr. Severson,” Indiana greeted from her window.
“Well, hello, Indiana.” He didn’t stop the steps that lowered his prize to the road.
“Nice car,” she said. “Do you want to race?”
He finally gave her some attention and agreed.
Indiana rolled her car to the start line. She backed up the growling grille and waited for the other racer to get in line. They decided on a landmark to end the race and clocks were synchronized.
On the top of a minute, two very different cars jumped from a nonexistent line. The quick gas led to a healthy neck and neck pace.
Indiana’s four widespread tires crowded the road. The narrow frame beside it gobbled up the edge as it hopped into speed. The race was close. A winner couldn’t have changed the glowing smiles and relieved shoulders.
Indiana slammed her heavy car door behind her and smiled at the competition.
“I thought all you knew about was food and money.” Her smile was contagious once it leapt from her shy face.
“No, that is just what I brag about. Every once in a while I get out my toys and flatter myself a racer.” Mike Severson stepped from the steel tube framing and shook out his legs. He started checking stuff on his car and didn’t give Indiana his questioning eyes. “You seem to have a little talent for racing. Why are you here in the middle of nowhere?”
Indiana was tired of secrets. She had already come clean about her money deficit with Walt and Charlotte. Mr. Severson should know as well now. Indiana might as well print it in the newspaper.
“I just barely graduated college. It takes a lot of work to start a racing team.” She opened up gingerly.
Mr. Severson quit tinkering with his ride. “So, after racing through school, you’re not ready for work?”
His inquisitive gaze pierced her. It went down her body to her shoes then back up. She felt uncomfortable gathering his attention and shuffled her feet. She refused the urge to back toward her car.
“Well, that makes sense. You are young, Ms. Indiana Bernstein—too young to race, and too old to sit still.”
Mr. Severson was trying to make her feel comfortable and Indiana responded. She told him about her life, everything except Richard. The extensive experience of living in schools still hadn’t released her from its cold, calculating clutch. Indiana was a mental phenomenon, but still an outsider in the world of humans and public relations.
She recalled the endless driving sprees, and countless rotations of the speedometer. They always eased the tension from her spirit. Tight turning tires helped her ignore the minutes coming secondly to hours as she raced toward her future goals. Indiana’s pacing ended with her helpless stance frozen to the thoroughfare.
“What are you going to do when you grow up?” Mr. Severson congenially kept his distance.
“Race.” Indiana had been born to give out that answer. “On my birthday, I became a millionaire. I already have all the money spent in my head. But there are legalities and things going on. I think they are keeping me from my money on purpose. Keeping me from my money so I don’t race cars. If my mom keeps it up, I’ll be too late to race in next year’s circuit as well.”
“So why don’t you go get sponsors?” Mike stood up from the disintegrating road and shook off dust.
“The racing season already started.” Having the conversation should’ve given her some kind of relief, but it didn’t.
“Indiana, do you want to drive fast professionally or just sit out here practicing
? I can tell you right now, if it’s in the blood then it’s in the blood. Racing and driving fast is hereditary for you. It’s instinctual and you require minimum instruction. Indiana, I can see that you need my help.”
She remained fixed and eyed him hesitantly. “Help me? I don’t know.”
The banker made a pitch. “Don’t tell me there is nothing else you could be doing right now.”
Indiana barely nodded and kicked at the pavement.
“Indiana, I like to invest money in things and you need the practice. Let’s go to a few speedways and test you on the straight track. I want to see how fast you can go. You can even drive my dragster. I can’t wait to throw money at it.”
“I would rather race laps than the strip, but I guess I need to start somewhere.” Indiana smoothed her flyaway hair behind her ears. Details were straightened out. Mike insisted she start by warming up his dragster at the next night of competition four counties over.
A few days passed and time started speeding by again. Indiana had spent a lot of time with the borrowed dragster. She was uncomfortable with the exposed tube frame, and the tight space had her wishing for a hot and enclosed cab of a real race car. By the end of the week she felt more comfortable with the car. Her timing looked good, and proved her readiness to compete.
That weekend a very impressed Mr. Severson and Indiana tied down the dragster. They loaded up the trailer with everything they possibly needed for the distant race strip. The drive to the competition would be long and slow. The convoy of semi and trailer arrived at the race. Indiana brought up the rear with her pretty classic car.
They arrived at the glorified track. Indiana noticed the dismay on the onlookers’ faces when she squeezed behind the steering wheel. Her hands were already clammed with sweat and the helmet did little to keep the glaring sun from her eyes. Steam rose in a steady cloud from the smooth blacktop. The vertical lights blinked in a downward progression. The last one signified go. Indiana lurched into action.
The dragster overcame the competition. Using the brakes blew out a balloon. It caught air and jerked the metal chassis to a stop.
Indiana peeled herself from the cooling frame. Her gloves were stuck on shaking fingers. The helmet left her hair plastered to her head. Indiana stood beside the dragster as shocked people stared and congratulated her. Mr. Severson approached and easily cleared the crowd from his prizes.
“Great job, Indiana.” He squeezed her shoulders and lifted her tiny frame off the ground.
Indiana felt uncomfortable with the public displays of appreciation. She looked around for an escape.
“Oh no, you are not done yet,” her friend announced. “You get an hour break and then you are back on the blacktop.”
Indiana held up her drenched gloves and said, “At this rate, I will need a new pair of gloves for every drag.”
“Not to worry, child, gloves are replaceable; and you are on the fast track to success.”
With the setting sun, Indiana remained undefeated on the winners’ list.
Mr. Severson and Indiana shared a long dinner.
“Indiana, your eyes are such an easy read. I can see you’re still not fulfilled.” Mr. Severson stabbed a bite of his healthy salad.
Indiana nodded as she swallowed a bite of cheeseburger. “The straight track’s too easy. I like long stretches of speed.”
“I’d say you’ve dominated the drag track. You can successfully begin the next circuit,” the thrilled older man said as he cut a tomato on his plate.
“Yes, I can’t tease myself with these short bursts of speed,” Indiana agreed between bites of fries.
“Well, we can regroup back home and begin hunting for a race car.” Mike watched as Indiana’s brown eyes lit up.
Indiana pushed her plate away.
“I’ve been thinking about racing a lot. The sponsoring is going to be very tricky. I want to do it myself.”
Mr. Severson laughed a long time.
Indiana kept a very serious face.
Indiana continued. “My race car is going to be white, white, and white. If there are advertisers then they will be in white or holographic contrasts. My car will be new and clean. And most importantly, I’m going to be in charge of it.”
Mr. Severson began with a few observations.
Indiana interrupted him. “Don’t you understand? I’m going to come out of the gates with a vengeance, but it’ll be a pure, kind of fresh spin on the sport. I’ve been planning my whole life. Now, Mr. Severson, would you like to be a private investor?”
“Well, what good would it do to invest in something without receiving something in return? At least the name of my bank or something should be put on the car.”
“Yes, I know it sounds one sided, but I think having a totally original car with private investors would be more eye-grabbing and efficient than the same old stickered and vinyl car.”
Mr. Severson raised his head after a quick contemplation. “I think it’s a great opportunity, and you can start with a small town bank at your back. It might be just what our small town needs to breathe life back into it.”
Indiana thought about it for a moment. Talking business with Mr. Severson held a comfortable, almost family-like feeling for her. They talked a few more minutes. Indiana grew tired of talking about future things.
She wanted to go home and be back in comfortable territory. They were shortly out the door. This time Indiana raced off into the night. Mr. Severson and the semi hauler made up the space in between. Indiana finally arrived at her favorite place on earth.
Chapter 18
Acquiring a race car should have been the easy part. Indiana burned up valuable days in hot pursuit. The first one listed for sale was trashed. Indiana considered the other two offerings for sale. One was far north, and the other very deep south. She had a way of solving this kind of dilemma and flicked a fat gold dollar for an answer.
South was decided for her. Indiana found their phone number. She called and was given the approximate address. She punched the coordinates into her beeping navigational device. She put her foot on the gas and drove into a star-filled night. She wouldn’t rest or shower until getting there.
Indiana arrived the next day. She parked her car in one of the furthest parking spaces. She sat for a moment and prepared herself.
Indiana looked in the mirror and grimaced. Driving with the windows down really had an effect on hair. She gently shifted her hair to a smoother position.
Indiana had an arrival ritual. Lipstick and deodorant were applied.
Even though she hadn’t slept all night, she tried to hold up her image with pride. She felt jitteriness and couldn’t entirely blame it on the coffee. These were the moments she had been waiting for her whole life. She didn’t need sleep. She needed a race car.
She hadn’t checked to see who owned this shop—Indiana would be walking in blind. It didn’t matter whose shop it was. Indiana Bernstein wanted to uphold a reputation as a racer from a family of racers. She would look good and well taken care of no matter what.
She smiled and got out of the car. The door needed a thoroughly hard shut, but it was a careful two-inch swing. Indiana’s growling black car was reluctantly left in the sun.
Indiana stood tall and walked slowly. She enjoyed feeling her body stretch after the drive. She looked around the parking lot.
The blacktop looked new and smooth. The grass looked greener than green and must’ve had a sprinkler system. Indiana slowed down a little more at the nostalgic bench and flowers. A young tree was finally growing some shade. She would have loved to linger, but business still waited.
The shop looked like it was made of black metal and windows. The black made it look hard, but it couldn’t possibly be purely built of metal. The glass sat at strategic angles and made certain things invisible. Indiana liked it.
Getting closer, she realized it was paint and some sort of shiny lacquer.
Indiana walked in. A big black front desk sat empty and shiny. Indi
ana approached it and looked. Behind the black counter sat a horseshoe-shaped desk full of organized clutter. This also sat abandoned.
Indiana turned a full circle and considered the shop. She walked down a corridor and past another empty collection of desks. Laughter echoed from the walls and she followed its source.
The garage had sliding walls partitioning empty operation lifts. Indiana stopped at the sight before her. She wished for a sight like this every day. All the things a traveling team of professional time setters could want, and of course much more, were in front of her.
“Hi, are you Merl?” she asked the man holding a clipboard.
“Well, yes, I am. You called about the race car for sale?” He clearly pegged the girl before him.
“Where is it?” Indiana raised her shoulders and let them drop during the question. She turned her head, and the swishing hair put her on the move.
“It’s over there.” He pointed with his cell phone and it began shaking in his hand.
Indiana stepped up to the wrapped car and pulled its sheltering cape off. She gasped. The number 44 and Richard’s sponsors were all over the resting race car. She looked around quickly. He wasn’t in the vicinity. Merl talked on his phone while other people were doing their important weekend jobs.
Indiana circled the car and reached into the driver side window. It smelled like cigars. She jumped back when her lungs filled with his smell. She couldn’t tease herself. She needed a car, but this was torture. Fresh ash blew off the seat. Richard had been there quite recently. She wondered why he was selling a car he still appreciated. Then she was no longer alone.
“So, do you like her?” Merl set the clipboard down carefully on the hood of the car.
“Yes. Why is it for sale?”
“Well, no one wants to pay up for it.”
“Yeah, I noticed a few things wrong with it.”
“Well, what do you expect? It’s a used car. Of course things have gone wrong with it.” Merl waved his hand.
