Speed Freak
Page 18
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CRAIG CAME TO prize-giving. My guess was that his dad made him come. Mr Bateman looked stern. Craig looked at the floor. Mr B shook my hand. ‘Congratulations, Archie. A well-deserved win.’
‘Thanks. And thanks for letting Dave help with my kart.’
He just nodded and went back to sit beside Craig.
My turn came for the podium and the speech. I did the usual thanking of my sponsors, then went on, ‘I owe today’s win to the huge efforts of several people. I wouldn’t have been able to get here if my fantastic step-mother Erica hadn’t decided she really could drive a van and trailer all the way from Wellington. Grandad — you’re an ace mechanic and bum-kicker.’ I paused for the laughter to stop. Should I mention Craig’s dastardly deeds, or not? Yeah, bugger it. He deserved to be showered with shit. ‘I won’t thank Craig for destroying my kart, but I do thank Dave for helping put it back together. And lastly I’m hugely grateful to Silver Adams for letting me use the parts off her kart. And, just in case anybody hadn’t guessed, I’m totally stoked about winning the Challenge. Yay! I’m going to race in Portugal!’
I collected my trophy and we left as soon as we could after that. Erica wanted to get to Waiouru, stay there and leave early so we’d get home mid-morning.
Felix was ecstatic. ‘You won, Archie. You beat that sniveller. You should have heard us cheer when you got past him. And then when he went off the track we cheered and clapped.’
We let him rave on. It was kind of peaceful, driving through the rain with him babbling away in the back seat. When sleep shut him up, Erica said, ‘Are you tired, Archie?’
‘Flat knackered. It’s a demanding track, that one.’
‘Will it be like that in Portugal?’
‘No. There’ll be way more karts on the track. More than seventy. I’d like to make it into the top twenty. I’ll be rapt if I can do that.’
She drove without talking for a few ks and I was nearly nodding off myself when she said, ‘I’ve never had to patch up a kart driver.’
I decided not to show her my feet, or to mention that they were aching up a storm.
She said, ‘Rugby, soccer, tennis even. I’ve patched up injuries from all of them. Skiing and snowboarding — some really nasty breaks from those.’ More silence for another couple of ks. ‘He’s so little.’
‘I was six when I started racing,’ I said. ‘It’s the best fun.’
‘He might hate it,’ she said.
I laughed. ‘Are you going to let him have a go?’
More silent ks before she said, ‘I might. I’ll talk to Bill. It’s a big step for me, Archie.’
‘You’re cool, Erica. You’ll cope.’ I spoke through a massive yawn.
‘Go to sleep, Archie. But I’m not carrying you into the motel.’
‘Walk, or sleep in the van?’
‘You got it.’
DAD WAS STILL flat out on the sofa when we got home. ‘I’m fine. Much better. Now sit yourselves down and talk me through the races.’
Erica gave him a kiss. ‘Not me. I’ve got to start work in an hour.’
I needed to get to school too. So did Felix. But Erica just winked at me and left us to talk to Dad.
After lunch, I settled Felix on the bar of my bike and doubled him to school. He kept yelling, ‘Go on, faster! Foot to the floor. Faster!’
That could well have answered Erica’s doubts about whether or not he’d like racing.
I passed Mr Taylor on my way to maths. ‘Congratulations, Archie. Well done.’
‘Thanks, sir.’
So my friends had spread the word. Yep. They disrupted the lesson for the first few minutes by demanding to know all the gory details. Mrs Chin was a pretty relaxed teacher and she gave me the floor for about five minutes before she dragged us back to what we were meant to be doing.
I hadn’t mentioned my bruised feet, but nothing gets past Ginnie. Straight after class, she asked, ‘Why are you limping?’
‘Because when another kart drives over your feet, it buggers your own kart, plus there’s collateral damage on your feet.’
‘Show us,’ Nina said.
I pulled the shoe and sock off my left foot, which had the prettiest bruises. They were properly impressed.
‘You’ll have to give the assembly talk,’ Colin said, an evil grin on his face.
True. I’d forgotten about that. It was the downside of doing well at anything at our school — they hauled you up in front of assembly to explain what a red-hot dude you were. Or dude-ess.
I guessed it would happen on Wednesday, when we had senior assembly. I was right. I had to sit on the stage along with a Year 12 girl who’d won a writing prize and a Year 13 boy who’d beaten some top guy in a chess competition. They both did okay — even the chess guy. He was quite funny. That was a surprise.
I made my speech short. Thrilled to win, rah-de-rah sort of thing. But I finished with, ‘I’m going to miss the exams, because I’ll be racing in Portugal. I’ll think of you all, though, slaving away here. Might even send you a postcard.’
I got booed rather than applauded.
BY THE WEEKEND Dad was up and around again, swearing at the boot he had to wear on his ankle. I made the mistake of asking if he thought he’d be fit enough to be my mechanic in Portugal. Nearly got my head snapped off. ‘Three weeks away? Of course I will be. I’m fine. Stop your fussing.’ It was so good to have him back to normal that I let him get away with a swift change of subject. ‘We’re having a celebration dinner tomorrow, Archie.’
‘Your famous roast chicken with stuffing and gravy?’
‘The works. But you and Felix will have to do the running around.’
What that turned out to mean was that he sat at the table and we did the work. Erica disappeared off somewhere but she promised to be back in time.
The kitchen was smelling wicked by the time she returned with sparkling apple juice for Felix and me, and champagne for her and Dad. I decided now wasn’t the time to challenge the no alcohol for minors rule.
‘Hey, Felix, we’re damn good chefs,’ I said, toasting him with a glass of too-sweet bubbles.
We were, too. The meal was perfection on a plate. Four plates to be exact. We all stuffed ourselves. ‘I’m gunna bust if I have any more,’ Felix said.
Dad shoved himself back from the table. ‘Right, troops. Leave the dishes for now. Follow me.’
Felix looked at me. I shrugged — something was up, but I didn’t have any idea what.
There was a suitcase on the lounge floor. A new one. With my name attached to it. ‘For Portugal,’ Dad said.
‘Oh wow! Thanks, Dad. That’s really cool.’
‘Open it,’ he said.
Inside was an envelope with an official type of form inside. ‘A passport application! Good thinking, Dad.’ There was something else in there too. Another envelope. With cash in it. I read the note that came with it. This is to help you with your passport. Good luck for Portugal, darling. You’ve done so well. I’m proud of you. Love from Mum.
I couldn’t say anything for a moment or two. She was proud of me. That was … good. Real good.
Felix got impatient. ‘Open this one, Archie. It’s from me and Mum.’
They’d given me a passport cover and a map of Portugal.
‘Hey, are you sure it’s not Christmas today? This is amazing. All of it. Thanks heaps.’ We sat there smiling at each other.
Well, Felix didn’t. He snatched a final parcel out of the suitcase. ‘Open it, Archie.’
I shook my head and pointed at the name written on the paper. ‘Read that, mate.’
‘Felix. It’s for me? Really?’ But he was already ripping the paper off. ‘It’s a racing suit!’ He held it in both hands, clasping it to his chest. ‘Mum? It’s a racing suit.’ His eyes were doing that huge, swallow-his-face thing like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Erica smiled at him. ‘You’re going to need it for when you start racing.’
>
Well, that kid nearly knocked her flat, jumping at her to hug her. Happy families all round.
But Felix and I still got to do the dishes. He wasn’t a lot of help because his head was somewhere far away in a land of fumes, noise and speed. I knew the feeling.
THAT NIGHT I talked to Kyla for ages. We had a lot to catch up on. I told her the whole gory story of Craig and how he’d tried to take me out. A lot of it — though not quite everything — had come out on various social media sites. But no one had said anything about Silver.
Kyla said, ‘You haven’t heard anything since you got home? About how she is now, I mean.’
‘No. I messaged her to say thanks. No reply though. I’d just like to know she’s okay.’
We tossed some ideas around about why it had mattered to her so much that Craig didn’t win. ‘Erica says he probably became the focus of her rage about her mother being killed.’
‘Makes sense, I guess,’ Kyla said. ‘He was always a right shit to her.’ Then she laughed. ‘Hey, he did good in spite of himself.’
‘That’d get right up his exhaust pipe. Hey, any chance of you coming up this way over the summer?’
Her face lit up. ‘I’m working on it. Keep your fingers crossed. It’s looking promising.’
We sat there grinning at each other, then she asked, ‘When do you leave for Portugal?’
‘Got the info yesterday. We fly out in three weeks. It’s starting to feel real.’
I’d never been out of the country before. Actually, I’d only been on a plane once, and that was when I was quite young. I got little shivers of excitement every time I thought about it.
We’d do all the prep we could beforehand. Every competitor got supplied with a kart and all the gear, which meant all I could do to prepare was practise, read up everything I could about driving technique, study the map of the track we’d be racing on, and work on my fitness.
I’d thought the time would drag, but instead it took off at high speed, helped on its way by Dad sussing out a kart for Felix. We took him to the track to try it out. That kid was practically dizzy with excitement. It’s a pity his mum had to work and couldn’t see him.
Dad gave him some tips before he took off, but as soon as Felix left the grid, Dad said, ‘He’s too amped to take anything in. This should be interesting.’
His kart wasn’t as powerful as mine but he would feel like he was jet-propelled. I still remembered the feeling of speed I’d got on my first few drives. I’d been certain I’d broken the sound barrier.
We watched Felix’s progress — not too bad. He was driving at around half the speed the kart was capable of. ‘He’s doing okay in the corners,’ I said.
‘Should do. He’s been a proper little sponge. He’s absorbed all the stuff you’ve talked to him about.’
We waved him in after ten laps — it was like watching an approaching grin. ‘I went fast! I reckon I could beat you, Archie! That was awesome!’
We didn’t disillusion him.
He didn’t talk much on the way home, but every now and again we’d hear Awesome from the back seat. He was asleep by the time we hit town.
THE WEEKEND BEFORE we left for Portugal, I had a sort of farewell event with my friends. We went rock climbing and then ate up large at a pizza place. At the end of the night, they wished me luck and threatened me with injury if I didn’t keep them updated while I was away. Regarding injuries, Dad’s leg was back in business and he was focused on getting us to Portugal. This apparently involved a few minutes telling his second-in-command at work to handle everything in his absence, and then reading up everything he could get his hands on about kart engines.
We were flying out on Wednesday morning. Erica drove us to the airport. Felix pulled my new suitcase and Dad walked with his arm around Erica. I didn’t mind him doing that now. She was good value.
We did the goodbyes, then went through to the ‘passengers only’ part. We were on our way. I’d won this trip fair and square. I was going to race in Portugal.
PRESS RELEASE PUBLISHED ON STUFF
* * *
Wellington teen Archie Barrington has achieved a very creditable thirteenth placing in an international kart-racing competition in Portugal. His final placing was 13th out of 72. ‘I’m very happy with that result,’ Barrington says. ‘The competition was fierce. It’s been a fantastic experience. I was aiming to get into the top 20, so 13th is much better than I’d thought I could do. I’m stoked.’
* * *
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Huge thanks to all the people who were so generous with their time and patience in answering my questions. Special thanks to: Donna and Ross Lee, Charmaine Jones, Andrew Donohue, Ryan Urban and Kylie, and Don McKenzie.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Fleur Beale is the author of many much-loved award-winning books — she has had more than 50 books published in New Zealand, the US and England. Fleur won the Storylines Gaelyn Gordon Award for a Much-Loved Book with Slide the Corner in 2007, the same award in 2009 for I Am Not Esther and the Esther Glen Award for Juno of Taris in the 2009 LIANZA Children’s Book Awards. Fierce September was the Young Adult Fiction Category Award Winner at the 2011 New Zealand Post Children’s Book Awards. Fleur also won the Margaret Mahy Medal in 2012.
OTHER BOOKS BY FLEUR BEALE
I Am Not Esther
A Respectable Girl
The Transformation of Minna Hargreaves
The End of the Alphabet
Juno of Taris
Fierce September
Heart of Danger
Dirt Bomb
The Boy in the Olive Grove
* * *
For more information about our titles
please visit www.randomhouse.co.nz
* * *
Copyright
The assistance of Creative New Zealand is gratefully
acknowledged by the author and publisher
A RANDOM HOUSE BOOK published by Random House New Zealand
18 Poland Road, Glenfield, Auckland, New Zealand
For more information about our titles go to www.randomhouse.co.nz
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library
of New Zealand
Random House New Zealand is part of the Random House Group
New York London Sydney Auckland Delhi Johannesburg
First published 2013
© 2013 Fleur Beale
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
ISBN 978 1 77553 470 9
eISBN 978 1 77553 471 6
This book is copyright. Except for the purposes of fair reviewing no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Design: Megan van Staden
Cover photograph: iStock (file15467134)
Printed in New Zealand by Printlink
This publication is printed on paper pulp sourced from sustainably grown and managed forests, using Elemental Chlorine Free (ECF) bleaching, and printed with 100% vegetable-based inks.