Drift

by Patrick Jones

  Both of the guys nodded. Billy shook his head. “Well, if you want to do things the hard way...”

  “You mean the right way.”

  This guy had a big mouth for a hapa, Billy thought. Some people just didn’t know their place. Billy would have to teach him the hard way.

  “You think your oversized model car is better than my ride?” Billy scoffed at the idea.

  “One way to find out.” The hapa walked past Billy. Adila and the white kid followed. Billy turned his back and started toward his car. As if on cue, the other White Sands racers did the same. Billy waited until Shane was by his side to explain what had taken place.

  “You can’t let him trash-talk you that way, Billy,” Shane said. “You can smoke these guys. Everybody knows you’re the best drifter on the island. These guys are too chicken to run our course or tackle Tantalus.”

  “Let’s see his ride,” Billy said. He motioned for Shane to follow. The two inspected the Nissan Skyline 350.

  “Not bad, not bad,” Billy said. “I like the fender mount. Let’s see the inside.”

  Billy wasn’t sure where Adila went, but he would be fine with never seeing her again. Any girl that didn’t want to get with him, Billy thought, was too dumb to get with in the first place. Some people just had no taste.

  The skinny kid popped the hood. Billy laughed. “What no turbo? No nitrous?”

  “Cost too much and doesn’t really help, except for how the drift looks,” the hapa said.

  Billy laughed, then turned toward Shane, who laughed even harder. “Drifting is all about how things look. The more tricks, the more you scare the competition.”

  “You mean like using the e-brake all the time? To me, that’s cheating,” the hapa said.

  “What, you never do an e-brake drift?” Billy said.

  “I drift by knowing my ride, not by taking shortcuts. But maybe you’re used to taking shortcuts,” the hapa said, getting up in Billy’s face.

  “Do you know who you’re talking to?” Billy said.

  “Yea, I’m talking to Billy Cain.”

  The guy smiled. His teeth were crooked, his hair was messy, and his clothes were dirty. A real lowlife, Billy thought.

  “That’s right. And who are you, big mouth?” Billy asked.

  “Kekoa Pahinui.” Kekoa crossed his arms over his chest. “If that’s too hard to pronounce with that silver spoon in your mouth, let’s compete. Then you can call me winner.”

  “So why do you think he didn’t accept my challenge?” Kekoa asked. They sat on the back porch of Kekoa’s grandma’s house, sipping ice tea loaded with sugar.

  Adila laughed. “I don’t think people like him are used to being challenged. They’re so used to getting their way that everybody’s afraid to talk back to them.”

  Kekoa shrugged his shoulders. “I’m lucky. He’s probably got a lot more horses under the hood than me. Better tires, better everything.”

  Adila kissed Kekoa’s cheek. “The whole thing scares me.”

  “If you have skills, nobody gets hurt.”

  “What about Billy’s friend Tucker?” Adila whispered.

  Kekoa pulled Adila tight toward him. “Those guys with him the other night, they’re not his friends. They’re just his toadies.”

  “More like his accomplices. I know Tucker was involved in that thing I told you about.”

  “Did that Japanese kid ever do anything? Did they get in trouble?” Kekoa asked.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Do you know anything else about that kid they bullied?”

  Adila shook her head. “No, but I bet my mom could find out. Why?”

  “Um, I gotta call Sonny,” Kekoa said. “I think I’m going to be busy for a while working on my ride, but if you want to hang out with us...”

  “What could be more fun that watching you and Sonny fix a car?”

  “Most everything, I suppose.”

  Kekoa and Adila laughed as the night fell from the sky.

  “Sweet!” Sonny said when he visited Kekoa in his garage a few days later. He stood in awe of the turbocharger kit ready for installation. “How much did this set you back?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Kekoa said. “We need to get it up and running by Friday.”

  “We reinforce everything, since this baby’s gonna crank with the turbo,” Sonny said. “You do the lube system, and I’ll handle the exhaust. After that, we’ll need to attach a new oil drain line to the turbocharger.”

  “Shouldn’t we mount it first?” Kekoa asked. None of his friends back in Hilo had turbos—most just ramped up the horsepower with gimmicks—but this was the real thing.

  “It’s easier to do other work first. It’s an expensive kit. You don’t want to hurt our baby.”

  Kekoa nodded in agreement. It was his car, but over time, it had become Sonny’s car too. And now they had a silent partner.

  Kekoa waited just outside the school grounds until the private security guard at the gate stepped away. Part of Kekoa wanted to smash the gate, but he knew better. He put the car in park, jumped out, opened the gate, and drove inside the grounds. With its long, winding entrance, the driveway of White Sands Prep would have made a perfect drift course, but that’s not where he and Billy would race. There was only one place to compete: Tantalus.

  Kekoa parked his car in front of the school entrance and looked at his phone. School was just about over, but it was well past time that somebody taught Billy Cain a lesson. Who better to beat someone who had everything than someone with nothing to lose?

  “What’s he doing here, brah?” Billy asked Ryan when he saw Kekoa leaning against the Nissan. Ryan had apologized to Billy and was back in the group, for the time being.

  “If Adila’s with him, we’d better direct them to the servant’s entrance,” Shane said. Ryan laughed really loud, but Billy just stared ahead.

  “What do you want?” Billy walked closer to Kekoa with Ryan and Shane close behind.

  “Your car.”

  Billy laughed. “I don’t blame you. But I’m not giving it to you. My old man’s big on charity, but not me.”

  Kekoa crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll race for it.”

  Billy scratched his head. “And if I win, I get that thing?”

  “Sure, you don’t need my ride,” Kekoa said. “You could buy ten of them. But think about what it’d be like actually to earn something on your own.”

  “Look, brah, it’s not happening.”

  “You got everything. Everything but guts, that is.”

  Shane and Ryan hooted. “Billy, man, don’t let this hood punk talk to you like that.”

  “Like I said, it’s not happening.” Billy started to walk away, quickly.

  Kekoa yelled at Billy. “Adila said you’re almost eighteen but nowhere near a man.”

  Billy turned on his heel and laughed at Kekoa. “Nice try.”

  Ryan and Shane formed a wall as Kekoa walked toward Billy. “You’ve got a better car and you say you’re a better driver, so I can’t figure it out. What are you afraid of?”

  Billy grew silent. He thought about Tucker, but when he looked at Ryan and Shane, he knew he had no choice. He could always back out if he couldn’t figure out a sure way to win. “Okay.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Adila asked for maybe the hundredth time.

  Kekoa’s nerves were as solid as the Nissan’s chassis. “I can’t explain it, but there’s something about him...Especially that story about cutting the kid’s hair.”

  “I know, somebody’s got to put him in his place. But why you, Kekoa?” Adila asked, holding back tears.

  They sat in Kekoa’s ride. He’d installed the passenger’s seat and taken Adila on some drifts through the projects. At first, she was scared, but he showed her that he knew what he was doing.

  “If not me, then who?” Kekoa said. “Besides, what else have I done with my life? This is one thing I can do better than anybody my age. And I want to prove it.”<
br />
  “How are you going to do that?” Adila asked.

  Kekoa reflected on how he had goaded Billy Cain into racing up and down Tantalus Mountain. They would go up together, and one would come down first. Kekoa knew he could win if Billy Cain played by the rules, but he doubted that Cain would. People like that thought they were entitled to their own set of rules. Kekoa would need to be fast. He’d also need to be cautious of whatever tricks Cain and his crew might try to pull.

  Billy brought an army with him. Not just Shane and Ryan but all White Sands drifters. He recruited some navy brats and Japanese kids too. Billy knew he stood a better chance if others were involved. If need be, one of them could take out the hotshot hapa.

  “I got so much power, I might fly to the moon,” Billy said to Shane on the phone. They were all parked near the base of the mountain in the parking lot of Hanahau’oli School.

  Shane laughed. “We got your back. You got nothing to worry about. Except...”

  “Except what?” Billy asked.

  “What about the cops?” Shane asked.

  “Another reason to have all of you around.” Billy would win not only because he had the better car but because he was smarter than everyone else. “If the cops show, they can’t arrest all of us. So some Japanese kid gets cuffed. What do I care? I’ll be out front, so they’ll never catch up with me.”

  “That’s a great idea because—”

  “He’s here.” Billy hung up the phone and buried it in his pocket. He turned on the video camera mounted on the dash. He wanted every moment of his victory preserved on film.

  “What’s going on?” Kekoa shouted as he climbed out of his car. He walked toward Billy’s Toyota. Billy bounded out of his car and met Kekoa halfway.

  “Change of plans?” Kekoa said.

  “Read the fine print, hapa.” Kekoa stood mute as Billy dictated the rules by which he would race, which included all the other cars being involved. “Take it or leave it.”

  Kekoa shrugged. “Got nothing else to do tonight.”

  Billy looked past Kekoa and into his car. There was someone in the passenger’s seat. “Is your Kenyan friend afraid to talk to me? She should get out and give me a good luck kiss.”

  Kekoa turned and waved. The Nissan door opened, and out stepped Keiichi Yamada.

  “Thanks for the turbo,” Kekoa said to Keiichi.

  “Humiliate him in front of everyone. That’s all the thanks I need,” Keiichi said. They fist bumped, and then Keiichi was gone. Seconds later, Sonny appeared at the car door. He stuck out his hand.

  “Kekoa, this is it. We sweated over this car. Now make it sweet. Beat this guy,” Sonny said.

  Kekoa shook his hand, hard.

  “Save your strength for that clutch,” Sonny added. He gave Adila the last word.

  “Kekoa, tell me you’re going to be safe,” she said. “Tell me you’re not going to get hurt.”

  “I’ll tell you all of that when I’m the first one back here.”

  Adila kissed his cheek.

  “Tonight, I prove my name,” Kekoa said. “I am Kekoa. I am courage.”

  While the cool of the early evening rolled in from the ocean, Kekoa was distracted by the splendor of Hanahau’oli School. He recalled his school in Hilo: broken desks, shattered windows, and unpaved parking lots. His grandma probably made less money a year than it cost to send a child to Hanahau’oli for a semester. Billy Cain went to a school like that. Kekoa wouldn’t only prove his name tonight but Adila’s name too: justice.

  Jack O’Brien stood between the two cars. Just like Kekoa had seen in hundreds of videos, Jack held his arms in the air, stared at both drivers, and then dropped his hands to mark the start of the race. Although Kekoa had installed the turbo, his car didn’t have the nitrous boost that shot Billy into the first drift.

  Kekoa followed behind, executing perfect drifts as he reached the hard left at Makiki Street onto Round Top Road. Kekoa realized instantly what Billy was doing. Billy wasn’t just drifting because that was the smartest and quickest way to navigate hard turns; he was creating a smokescreen. The cloud of burnt rubber and exhaust smoke blinded Kekoa just as he needed to execute his drift. Billy had raced this mountain with others, Kekoa realized, while Kekoa had only drifted it alone.

  The turbo roared as Kekoa pushed the Nissan up Round Top Road, the beginning of the mountain climb. In his head, he recalled the map of the mountain road and tried to figure out where he could overtake Billy. He couldn’t pass Billy in a straightaway, so he’d need to wait until near the end—a series of hairpin turns where the best drifter would win.

  Behind him, Kekoa heard other cars, but he had stripped the rearview mirror so he couldn’t make out how many. At the first tricky turn, Kekoa kept control of his out-of-control car and seemed to gain on Billy, who had run off the road navigating a near U-turn before leaving the residential streets. As he drove past where Billy had run off the road, Kekoa saw a busted mailbox.

  In the straightaway, Keiichi’s turbo paid off. He closed on Billy. At the next massive U-turn, Billy drifted perfectly and kept his lead, but Kekoa knew he was gaining. Coming out of the drift, his feet danced heel-and-toe on the pedals, working together as quickly and efficiently as the pistons in the engine.

  Kekoa sensed he was gaining but also sensed something growing near. The feeling grew inside him: a car was close, closing, and then clang!

  The collision shoved Kekoa forward—his chest bounced off the steering wheel. He shook off the pain and floored it. Behind him, he heard the sound of the car going into a drift or maybe a spin. Then a crash. Kekoa raced on.

  He had fallen behind because of the rear-ending. He only caught site of Billy as Billy began to drift through the road’s winding way. A scenic lookout point signaled the halfway point, Kekoa guessed he was ten seconds behind. In life, that was nothing. In a race, it was everything.

  As he crossed the merger with Telephone, Kekoa saw oncoming lights. He slowed down. Even though he had the right-of-way, you never knew about other drivers: who wouldn’t be paying attention; who might be breaking the law, like him, Billy, and everybody else out on the mountaintop. Kekoa didn’t hear the roar of other cars in the distance anymore, so he was far ahead of almost everybody else. But he was still in second.

  Kekoa took a deep breath when he saw a series of S-shaped turns through the darkness. The speed limit said twenty miles an hour. He kept it at forty and punched it up to fifty on the few straightaways. Cold mountain air sucked into the intake system. Resentment burned in Kekoa’s veins and pushed him to drive faster, drift harder.

  Coming off the mountain, Kekoa saw Billy’s car. It looked as if Billy had spun off near the mountain’s last big turn. Just as Kekoa was about to blow past, Billy’s red Toyota sprang like a waiting tiger. Kekoa pulled the e-brake, not for a cheap drift but to save his life. Surrounded by a cloud of smoke, both cars pushed toward the finish.

  As Kekoa tried to focus on the race, his mind raced as well. Had Billy tried to crash into him? Kill him?

  The final miles took Kekoa and Billy onto Makiki Heights Drive, into wealthy neighborhoods and past places like the Hawaii Nature Center, another place that no doubt ran on Cain money. They raced neck and neck down the two-lane road with Kekoa on the left, Billy on the right. After every mile, drift, turn, and twist, the race would come down to just a few seconds.

  Billy sat in his car, head down, mouth open, and eyes closed. He’d never lost at anything before, so like a child taking its first step, he felt awkward. He snatched the camera from the dash and erased the video. He wanted to believe there’d be no proof, but he knew better. The proof was in the silence of his phone. Unlike every other race, where congratulations texts had flooded in, he was alone in defeat.

  “You okay?” Billy heard someone yell as the guy tapped on the window glass. Billy wiped his eyes and then opened the window. Kekoa stood outside.

  “Great race.” Kekoa extended his hand. Billy kept his hands in his pockets.r />
  “Pay up,” the skinny white kid said. Kekoa’s buddy must have followed after the other racers drove across the mountain.

  Billy surveyed the inside of the Toyota that failed him. It was the car’s fault, not his.

  “Sonny, relax, give him a minute,” Kekoa said.

  Billy turned off the car, removed the key, and opened the door. He couldn’t look at Kekoa, so he glanced past him to where his friends stood. Billy waved. No one waved back.

  “Here.” Billy tossed the key on the ground in front of Kekoa. “You won it, but so what? It’s not the best drift car. If it was, I would’ve won, since I’m the best drifter on the island.”

  Kekoa laughed but didn’t say anything. He also didn’t bend down to get the key.

  “What’s so funny?” Billy asked as he walked away from his defective ride.

  “You. You think you’re special, but you’re not. You can buy everything: cars, friends, and other people’s lives. But that doesn’t make you special,” Kekoa said.

  Billy said nothing as he walked past Adila. She wasn’t that pretty anyway. Besides, one of his father’s friends had a maid from Africa. Maybe she had a daughter. He’d get with her instead. Billy opened his phone, punched a number, and called for a limo to pick him up.

  “That is one ugly baby,” Kekoa said, then laughed.

  Sonny patted the hood of the Nissan. “Maybe, but it’s my baby. I–I mean, we—built it up from scratch.” Some of the empty part boxes still lay strewn about Kekoa’s grandmother’s garage.

  Kekoa offered his grease-stained hand, and Sonny shook it.

  Adila applauded. “You got any money left to pretty it up? Girls like a pretty car.”

  “And a pretty boy.” Sonny jabbed Kekoa’s shoulder. “Too bad I spent my half.”

  “I still don’t understand why you sold Cain’s car instead of keeping it,” Adila said. “There was nothing wrong with it.”