by Fleur Beale
Girls! I wondered what Kyla thought of him. Maybe it’d be safer not to ask.
I waved goodbye to my mates and rode home. A couple of streets away from my house I spotted Felix jogging along with a determined look on his face. I cruised up beside him and dismounted.
‘What’s up, buddy?’
He stopped, and — surprise, surprise, he looked square at me. ‘I want to help.’
I joined a few dots. ‘With the kart?’
He nodded and, man, did he look stubborn. Not my fight. I pulled out my phone, hit Erica’s number and held it out to him. ‘Argue it out with your mum.’
His end of the conversation was pretty much a blank. I wasn’t surprised when he gave the phone to me — without saying anything, naturally. I took it and damn near dropped it. She was going ballistic. ‘Archie, I will not tolerate this sneaking around. You might be obsessed with speed, but I’m not having that for my son. I respect that it’s important to you, and I don’t think it’s asking too much for you to respect what’s important to me.’
Bugger you, lady. ‘Sure. Next time I see Felix walking along the road all on his lonesome, I’ll just ride on and ignore him. Fine.’ I hung up on her.
Felix stuck his hands behind his back. ‘I want to help.’
I wanted to ride off and leave him, but it wasn’t his fault he had a psycho for a mother. I started walking at his speed towards home. No way was I going to do her dirty work. If she wanted Felix to be somewhere he didn’t want to be, it was her problem. Not mine.
He came along too.
My phone rang. ‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. I apologise. I jumped to conclusions. His carer was on her way to his school to find out where he was. Would you mind taking him back to her?’
The bloody nerve of her! ‘I’m not doing that. I’ve got work to do. He doesn’t want to go and I’m not carrying a yelling kid down the street. He can come with me.’
I turned the phone off, and we walked home in silence. I made us a drink and a sandwich.
‘Are you mad at me?’ he asked.
Jeez, more words from the kid than I’d heard him speak in his life. ‘No. I’m plenty mad at your mum though.’
‘Can I still help?’
‘Absolutely.’
I gave him the check sheet. ‘Call out each thing on here. If I say okay, you cross it out. And don’t miss a single thing or I could be up shit creek without a paddle.’
He struggled with some of the words, but we got it done and I made out a list for Dad. All we had to get was more two-stroke oil and a chain.
‘Thanks, mate,’ I said. ‘Your reward for helping is to be assistant chef.’
‘I can peel potatoes.’
‘You’re the man. Spud duty for you.’
By the time Dad and Erica arrived home, the two of us were setting the table. Felix threw me the cutlery and I put it in place.
Felix looked at his mother. ‘I helped.’
She came over all emotional, gave him a hug and a kiss. Dad gave me a very sneaky thumbs-up.
WE DIDN’T TALK about the Felix incident until we were on the ferry bright and disgustingly early the next morning.
‘What happened?’ Dad asked.
I told him everything, including the spaz from his girlfriend. I was still mad at her.
‘You did well, Archie.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘She’s thrilled with how much Felix has come out of his shell. It’s mainly due to you, and she knows it.’
‘She’s got a damn strange way of being thrilled.’
‘Go easy on her, son. She’s had to patch up enough accident victims to know what can happen.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s still a mystery how you two ever got together.’ I didn’t mean that exactly. I knew how they’d met — Dad had to collect somebody for his work from the airport. The plane was two hours late, he had a coffee, Erica asked to share his table because all the others were full. They talked. The time flew. And now she was living in my house.
‘Some things are just meant to happen,’ said Dad, getting all dreamy eyed.
I pulled out my phone and started a text chat with Kyla.
We got to Christchurch late afternoon. Dad parked the trailer and I went to have a look over the track before it closed for the day. I walked past trailers I recognised — Craig’s for starters. Silver’s was there too, beside Sel. Next to him was somebody I didn’t recognise, then Jack and Tama. Kyla’s was across from ours. Good, she was here already.
A couple of karts were out on the track, practising. I watched them, taking note of the cornering. The driver in 38 needed to keep his head still — it waved all over the place.
I’d be out there tomorrow. It was too late now to get in any decent practice.
Kyla and her family were in the motel unit next to ours. It took about half an hour before the two of us could get away.
‘Back home by eight,’ Dad shouted after us.
‘Nine,’ I said to Kyla.
She tucked her hand in mine and we left the rellies behind. We jumped on a bus and hit the town. It was hard to remember how it had been before the quakes, everything had changed so much. We wandered around, not worrying about where we were going. I put my arm around Kyla. It felt good to be walking with my girl.
We got hungry. ‘Good healthy food. Or pizza?’
But neither of us wanted to compromise our fitness. ‘Let’s do both,’ she said.
What a girl! We had salads, followed by woodfired pizza.
When I got back to the motel — at nine — Dad said, ‘Good time?’
‘Yep.’
I didn’t tell him how we’d walked by the river. I didn’t tell him how we’d kissed. There are some things a father doesn’t need to know.
‘Craig popped in for a chat. He wanted to know where you were.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘That you were out at the track. You’ve never seen a guy vanish so quick.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NEXT MORNING, WE were all at the track as soon as it opened. Craig just happened to mention that he had a new engine. ‘It’s fast. Dad bought it off Phil Karaka.’ Phil Karaka used to be the fastest guy in our class, but he needed a different type of engine now that he’d got too heavy and had to move up to the seniors.
‘I hope Phil charged him double the cost of a new one,’ I said to Kyla.
Dad laughed when I told him. ‘You can have the fastest engine on the track, but if you haven’t got the best driver and the best set-up, you might as well save your money.’
The practice runs had more than their usual dramas, thanks to Craig and Silver. She got to the grid before he did for the first run, and took pole. Josh was right behind her and pushed his kart on to two. Ollie and Jack bagged three and four, and Craig had to be satisfied with five, beside Lewis on six. I put my kart on fifteen, happy to be well away from Silver. Craig, though, would want to be in front — all part of his psychological game-playing. But it wasn’t so smart to set himself up for a tangle with Silver, in my opinion.
I made sure I stayed well away from the pair of them and settled in for some serious driving. Fastest lap time was what I wanted. Me and every other driver.
Don’t think about them. Don’t think. Just drive.
I passed when I had to, but mostly I was able to maintain enough distance from the karts in front of me so that I could concentrate on shaving fractions of seconds off my time in each corner.
By the time the session finished, I was happy. Craig and any other bugger would have to drive bloody well to beat me.
‘All okay?’ Dad asked when he met me at the pits.
‘Spot on.’
We waited for Kyla, then took the karts back to our bases. She looked pleased with her time but neither of us bothered asking the other what we’d clocked.
‘Craig’s not going to be happy,’ Dad said when we were in our tent. ‘Silver managed to block him for an entire lap. Looked to me like he was so mad he lost his focus after that.
Didn’t put in even one decent lap.’
‘A pity he gets another chance,’ I said. I wasn’t worried.
But I wasn’t the only one trying not to laugh too loudly when they called our second practice. There was old Silver on pole, standing beside her kart and staring out at nothing. Craig let go his trolley and strode over to her, waving his hands and jabbing at the air. Kyla and I were too far away to hear, but we could guess. Craig yelled. Silver kept staring at nothing — it looked like she wasn’t even aware of him.
A steward tapped Craig on the shoulder, said something, then pointed at the back of the grid. Gary the mechanic, his face very grim, took it on himself to push Craig’s kart on to number twenty-four. That wasn’t Craig’s favourite position.
Kyla and I chose spots in the middle of the field — it looked like being a good idea to keep out of the way of both of them. I wondered what my sponsors would think of Craig’s meltdown. Their problem, not mine. I’d use the session to perfect each corner. It was all about making sure I could put it all together for the heats and then the finals.
After the session, Craig didn’t hang about trying to find out what my fastest time was. ‘How did he go?’ I asked Dad.
‘He pulled out a flyer second to last lap,’ Dad said. ‘He’s got that new engine too. It’ll be close, Archie.’
The times went up. Craig was on pole, by a fraction of a second. Such a small margin, but to look at the way he was strutting around you’d think he’d beaten me by an entire straight.
Kyla squeezed my hand and whispered, ‘Beat him good, Archie.’
‘Do my best,’ I said.
Dad nodded to Kyla, then said, ‘Just make sure you both keep away from young Silver. She’s driving like she’s got a demon inside.’ But Kyla was on ten and Silver back on seventeen. She wouldn’t be bothering either of us.
On the grid, I shut both her and Craig out of my head, tuning my focus to the race ahead. My plan was to be patient, to watch, wait and seize my chance when it came — as it would.
Craig was just as determined to shut me out, to keep me in second. The starter let us go. Round we went in formation for the rolling laps, Craig setting the pace. We did two laps before the lights went out and we were racing.
He was driving well, nailing each corner, exiting without losing a fraction of time. I sat in behind, alert and waiting; circuit after circuit, me slipstreaming along the straights and giving him the love-taps on the corners. He stuck to the lead, driving like a pro.
Three laps to go, he hadn’t made a mistake and we were lapping the back markers. Craig picked off number 82. I followed as if my kart was glued to Craig’s. Number 47 on the straight ahead. Silver’s. I dropped back a fraction. Craig pulled out to pass. She held her line, but he went so wide his wheel caught the grass. I snuck through the gap between them.
Craig was there behind me at the next corner, thumping the back of my kart. Two laps left … Final lap. Time to go for broke, to give it everything. But he was still there, hunting me down, doing his best to make me lose my nerve.
The finish line ahead, and I was over, beating him by vital fractions of a second.
Thanks, Silver.
Kyla came in seventh. Her parents had huge smiles on their faces as they came to meet her. Dad gave me the shoulder squeeze. ‘Well done, Archie.’
Craig wasn’t so pleased. He caught up with us as we walked back to base. ‘That bitch should be banned. I’d have won if she hadn’t blocked me.’
Kyla’s dad said, ‘Blocked you? Looked to me that you went wide.’ To me he said, ‘Nice piece of driving, Archie.’
Craig gave a hiss like a deflating tyre and took himself off.
Dad handed me his phone. The text from Grandad said: V g
Kyla and I watched the last races of the day, then we locked everything up and went back to the motel.
Over dinner the talk was all racing. ‘What happened to Silver?’ I asked.
Kyla’s dad said, ‘There seemed to be something wrong with her engine.’
‘That girl needs to race,’ Dad said. ‘Her father’s worried sick about her. You two, just make sure you keep out of her way.’
‘Should be easy enough,’ I said through a huge yawn. ‘Don’t know about you lot, but it’s an early night for me. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.’
THE MORNINGWAS fine with a light wind and some cloud cover. Perfect — not too hot and not too cold. We hit the track when it opened and got busy checking and re-checking everything. Silver and her dad had her kart outside their tent working on the engine. Dad finished with my kart and went over to help out.
I collected Kyla and we joined a bunch of others to watch the first race. Craig, of course, had noticed the problem with Silver’s kart.
‘Serves her right. No engine can stand the sort of mauling she hands out.’
Nobody bothered answering him.
When our race was called, I asked Dad, ‘Silver’s kart okay?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s a bit dodgy still. We couldn’t find the problem. It’s one of those intermittent things — always difficult to work out exactly what’s wrong. If you have to lap her again, just be careful.’
We took the kart down to the grid. Craig was there already and on pole thanks to being faster than me in qualifying. Well, mate — a race is different from a qualifier.
But I had work to do, and thinking about Craig wasn’t it. I put on my helmet and focused on the race ahead.
The starter let us go for the rolling laps. The lights went out and I put my foot down, chasing Craig into the corner. We battled our way through eight laps, with me hustling him into the corners, letting him know I was there, letting him know I was waiting and watching.
Lap nine and a kart in front of us — 47. Silver. She was still ahead of us as we hit the back straight. Could have been that Craig lost concentration at the sight of her, but he went wide on the bend and left the door open enough for me to sneak through.
I caught Silver — aimed to pass her on the corner before the hairpin. Craig was right behind me, but I held back as Silver slowed. I’d seen her pull that trick before. She’d wait till the overtaking kart was level with her, then swerve out just enough to edge them off course. I waited till we’d driven past the apex and were heading for the exit, where I passed her before she could accelerate. I was almost up to full speed when I felt an almighty whack on the rear of the kart. I just had time to see Craig slip through before I was thrust out into the path of another kart. The world turned, and turned again. I was on the grass with a stalled engine.
Shit. What the hell was that?
Silver. Of course. She was off the track too, and I hoped she’d bloody stay off. Rage fired through me, but years of Dad’s training kicked in. I started the engine again, and right away knew the set-up was stuffed. A bent chassis was my guess. Bugger it, I’d drive the bloody race anyway.
I came last. The only halfway good thing was that Craig came in third, Ollie first and Lewis second.
Dad looked grim. ‘Go to lunch, Archie. I’ll see what I can do. Read this.’ He shoved Grandad’s text under my nose.
Next race 1st of day.
‘Which I think means you have to drive the next race like nothing’s gone wrong,’ Dad said. He gripped my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘Hold it together, mate.’
‘Yeah. I will. I am. Thanks, Dad.’ But goddamn it. I was furious. To be bumped off the track like that — that was shit.
Kyla came to get me. ‘You okay, Archie?’
I took her hand. ‘Getting there. What happened?’
‘Dad said she just turned right into the back of your kart and she didn’t seem to be able to steer it when she hit the grass either. She didn’t get back on the track anyway.’
I took a deep breath and stretched out my shoulders. ‘Let’s hope she’s out for the rest of the day. Come on, I’m starving.’
We lined up at the canteen with others from our class. ‘Hard luck, Archie,’ Lewis sa
id.
‘You didn’t pass me!’ Jack sounded like he couldn’t believe it.
‘I will, old man. Don’t worry your little head about that.’
‘Where’s Craig?’ Tama asked.
‘Daddy’s probably got a chef in their trailer,’ Sel said. ‘It’s the bacon and egg pie for me.’
Kyla and I ordered the lasagne, which came with a rather limp salad. Nothing wrong with the garlic bread though.
As soon as we’d finished, I said good luck to the others and got up to leave. I was keen to shoot back to see how Dad was getting on, but Craig was coming in as I was going out. ‘Hey, buddy, I need you,’ he said.
‘Later.’
He could wait. I wanted to find out about my kart.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DAD LOOKED UP. His expression wasn’t encouraging. ‘I’ve done the best I can with it. We’ll have to get it fixed properly when we get home.’
Shit. More dollars washing down the drain. ‘I’m going to drive it anyway.’
‘Thought you would. It could have a bit of understeer coming into the corners. It’ll be like driving a donkey where he doesn’t want to go.’
‘Anything I can do?’
‘Yes. Grab me something to eat.’
‘Sorry. Should have thought of that. Bacon and egg pie okay with you?’
Back in the clubrooms, Craig looked to be in the middle of making a speech. He saw me and beckoned. Stuff him, he wasn’t my boss. I bought Dad his pie, then ambled over.
‘What’s up?’
‘If you’d stayed around, you’d know and I wouldn’t have to explain all over again.’
‘What’s biting you?’ I asked. ‘Your kart didn’t get bent out of shape.’
He shoved the piece of paper he was holding under my nose. ‘It’s about getting our karts bashed up. I’m going to do something about it. Read this.’
It was a handwritten letter to the stewards. I read it aloud: We, the undersigned, want Silver Adams banned from kart racing. The reasons are: she endangers other drivers; she causes crashes; she drives with the express intention of blocking karts behind her.
