Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  Emma was standing in the lobby waiting for me. Just as I was about to ask her what she got, she pulled me into the bathroom, dropped her pants and bared her goods to me.

  “Christ almighty Emma—I didn’t need to see that!” I wailed diverting my eyes away from her horseshoe she had designed on her girly pad. “You could have told me what you got. This isn’t show and tell.”

  Pulling her jeans up, she reached for the button of my jeans. “Hey, I showed you, now you show me.”

  “No way. Not happening.” Slapping at her, I backed away. “Never, no,” I shook my head violently. “Not in this life time,” It was becoming pretty obvious Emma was not concerned with my lack of show-n-tell.

  “Sway, I showed you. That’s not fair.” she whined crossing her arms in front of her.

  I wanted to back away further but I was now straddling the toilet in my attempts to escape.

  “I do not care.” I shouted sprinting from the bathroom with her trailing. “I never said this was an all skate.”

  “At least tell me what you got,” she insisted catching me once I made it to the lobby doors.

  I couldn’t help the smile that grazed my lips when I thought about my checkered flag crankcase. Fortunately, she couldn’t see it since I was running away from her. “A checkered flag with the number nine,” I answered quickly making my way through the parking lot.

  My running didn’t last long; I was completely out of shape. Soon I was panting, wheezing and holding my side in pain.

  “Oh, that’s sweet. You should send him a picture.” Emma held up her phone. “I already sent one to Aiden.”

  “I’m not sending him a picture.” I chided helping Emma put the bags in the back of the red dragon. “He’s at St. Jude Children’s Hospital today. I’m not sending him a picture of my crankcase while he’s entertaining children. That’s gross.”

  “What’s he doing at St. Jude’s?”

  “There’s a five-year old boy, Axle, whose wish was to meet Jameson.”

  “Oh,” I could tell it bothered her as well. “Jameson donates a lot of money to that particular hospital. I can see why he’d want to spend some time there.”

  Making my way through Tacoma traffic wasn’t the highlight of my day. When we got to Olympia, I headed for caffeine.

  “Where are we going?” Emma asked.

  “You threw my coffee away, so you’re buying me more.” I smiled. “You should think of getting some too.” I hedged. She had no idea what she was in for with the Lucifer twins.

  Rolling with my advice, Emma did get coffee and then we were cruising down 101 towards Elma country and cow shit.

  With Emma’s dancing rocking the truck from side-to-side, I turned down the music once we were back on the freeway. “What do you think Chelsea, Darrin and Mariah are up to?” I asked.

  Emma was all keyed-up after that. She wanted to be a lawyer at one time so solving a mystery was right up her alley. That and she watched entirely too much CSI. “Well,” she began with much exaggeration. “I think Darrin used Chelsea in attempt to get Jameson in trouble. You know, trying to prove he’s like some sort of bad guy who goes around assaulting woman.” Emma paused taking a drink of her mocha. “Darrin’s just pissed that Jameson is one of the best drivers out there—he’s competition for Darrin. I really think all this is Darrin’s doing. It has to be. He’s hated Jameson from day one. I mean, you remember their USAC days together.”

  “Do you think Tate is involved?”

  “No, I don’t. I think Tate is just in denial. He would never do that to Jameson purposely, he’s being fed lies by Chelsea—I’m sure of it.”

  I was quiet for a few minutes merging onto Highway 8. Then it hit me...if we found someone who was close to them maybe we could see what they’re up to. “Do you know anyone that’s friends with them?”

  “The only person I know who hangs around them is Dana. I don’t know that she’s friends with them though.” Emma took another drink of her mocha. “Dana doesn’t go to every race; she’s just an obsessed fan. I don’t even think she has any family on the series.”

  “I wonder if we could get her to, you know...help us.”

  Emma giggled. “Jameson would kill us.”

  “What he doesn’t know...won’t hurt him.” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

  The last thing I wanted to do was cause additional stress for Jameson. He had enough already. If there was some way I could help him resolve this whole Darrin issue that would mean less stress for him and less stress for me.

  When we arrived back at Charlie’s house, I was in the middle of putting my bag in my room when Emma came in with a grime expression on her face. We’d only been there for five minutes so I assumed this expression had something to do with the Lucifer twins.

  I watched as she pulled the red boots she bought from a Nordstrom bag, only they weren’t red anymore. They were now charcoal, burnt.

  My thoughts were confirmed in regards to the satins spawn. Unless Aiden’s fantasy involved a fire fighter, those wouldn’t get him going.

  “Aw, yes.” I grinned. “I see you met the Lucifer twins.”

  “Met them?” her eyes bugged out. “They set my boots on fire!”

  “They’ve done worse...look at Mr. Jangles.” I pointed to his shaved ass. “He will never be the same.”

  “I was wearing the boots when they set them on fire, Sway.” Emma tossed the boots on the floor. “Who the fuck are those hoodlums?”

  “They’re Andrea’s twin boys.” I gave her a wide smile. “They live here.”

  “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “Nope not shitting you,”

  “I’m not staying here with them.” she placed her hand on her hip giving me a pointed glare. “I refuse.”

  “Yes you are.” I demanded. “If I have to stay here, you sure as shit have to.”

  Mr. Jangles walked over to Emma and started rubbing himself up against her legs. She glanced down and then took a double take before jumping on my bed. “What the fuck is that?” She squealed in horror.

  You’d think she just saw the devil or something.

  I looked around for the devil—I wanted to have a discussion with him about his children and their behavior.

  “What is wrong with you guys?” I shouted a few octane’s louder than necessary. I felt bad for poor Mr. Jangles—it’s not his fault he was overweight. “He’s a fucking cat!”

  “What do you feed him, McDonalds?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “You are so much like Jameson.”

  Having Emma and the Lucifer twins around all under the same roof, there was never a dull moment. On Wednesday, they shaved Mr. Jangles the rest of the way and made him look like a lion, keeping a ball of fur on his tail, fur on his feet and then the long fur around his face. He looked like an overly obese lion.

  Having no hair did nothing for his figure, that’s for sure. The shaving combined with the safety pinned pierced ears, made him resemble some biker dude’s cat, not my fluffy white longhaired Mr. Jangles who loved me and his spaghetti. I half expected him to whip out his switchblade and shank me in my sleep.

  Thankfully, he did not.

  On Thursday, they filled balloons full of Hershey syrup and threw them at Emma and me while we lay in the sun. That same day, we also found out that the ceiling fan in the living room was not strong enough to hold a dog’s leash while Logan was attached to the end of it.

  Although, it was strong enough to hold a can of red paint and spray it throughout the room, causing it to resemble some kind of scene out of the series Dexter.

  On Friday, Lucas put marbles in the red dragon’s gas tank causing her to make an extreme amount of noise while driving.

  Logan also decided Mr. Jangles needed a bath.

  After all, he was covered in red paint, so he put him in the washing machine on spin cycle.

  There are two things you need to know about this. One, a normal cat will throw up twice their body weight...when dizzy. Two,
a Mr. Jangles sized cat will throw up roughly ten times his body weight...when dizzy...give or take an ounce.

  Like I said, there was never a dull moment.

  Soon it was Saturday, and I was getting a little jittery as to what the next few days would bring. The last two nights of racing at Elma were cancelled due to a summer storm blowing through.

  Unfortunately, Daytona wasn’t having the same storm, so Jameson was racing while I was stuck with Emma and the Lucifer twins.

  Charlie and Andrea snuck up to Lake Quinault for the weekend to spend some time together. Long story short, this left us alone with the devils spawn.

  It wasn’t exactly pressured upon us to watch them or anything. Feeling bad for them, we volunteered to watch the shit heads, which was why we were now picking out movies and buying a shit load of junk food in hopes they will pass out in a sugar-induced coma. It worked on Lane.

  Did that happen?

  No, that would have been entirely too easy.

  Emma and I were curled up in the chase lounge in the living room, together, watching Poltergeist because Emma insisted we watch scary movies since it’s stormy outside. I think her brothers dropped her on her head when she was a baby because this logic of scary movies during a storm was just stupid to me.

  I was not enthusiastic about watching a scary movie to begin with. The last time I watched a scary movie was the Exorcist with Jameson and I ended up sleeping with my bedroom light on for a goddamn month. And let’s not forget my phobia with preachers after that.

  I hated clowns too and just a few minutes into this horrid movie, I really hated them.

  By the time Carol Anne said, “They’re here,” Emma was sitting on top of me, viewing the movie threw my fingers as they covered her eyes. I wasn’t doing any better with my baby blanket wrapped around my head.

  Yes, I still had my first baby blankie...don’t judge me.

  When Robbie was pulled under the bed by the clown, we screamed. But not nearly as loud as we screamed when the Lucifer twins coaxed Mr. Jangles into the room.

  It was a suspenseful part of the movie; you just knew something intense was coming any minute, when all of a sudden the shaved obese lion with safety pinned ears, Mr. Jangles, came flying through the air, landing on top of us.

  We screamed bloody fucking murder.

  I’m not gonna lie, I screamed as if I saw the devil himself.

  I should have asked him to take his kids back.

  After the screaming fit, the twins disappeared for good reason. I’m sure they gathered their lives were in jeopardy.

  The storm gained strength. Wind blew, power was lost, and it rained, a lot.

  All this with Emma, the Lucifer, and me twins alone, in the dark.

  To say we were scared of the dark was an understatement...we were petrified of the dark. It might have something to do with the fact that we just watched Poltergeist but that’s unimportant.

  “What if it’s Carol Anne?” Emma whispered in my ear. She was close enough that her breath tickled my neck. She couldn’t have gotten much closer. After all, we were wrapped around each other.

  “I fucking hate you for making me watch that movie.” I seethed through my teeth scanning the dark room for any sign of the devils spawn. “Where in the hell are those Lucifer twins?”

  All we heard were their evil giggles throughout the two-story house. If that’s not creepy, I don’t know what is.

  Their giggles were quickly silenced when a loud crash came from outside, followed by heavy footsteps. The little creepers weren’t giggling anymore...nope; they were clinging to our legs like Gorilla glue.

  Who in the hell would be walking around outside in this weather, was crazy. That just confirmed my fears that it could be some kind of deeply troubled axe murder. No one in their “right mind” would be out in this.

  “Sway, what was that?” Lucas whined and even in the dark, I could see how wide his eyes were.

  I honestly couldn’t say I felt sorry for the little shit, not after what he pulled during the movie with Mr. Jangles.

  “It’s probably your father rising from hell to teach you a goddamn lesson.” I snapped prying him from my leg.

  “Sway, that was a little harsh.” Emma punched my shoulder. “He’s just a child.”

  “A child my ass,” I may have been a tad on the rude side right then but I was in fact just as scared as that six-year old. “Did you forget what they did to your boots?”

  Another loud crash came from just outside the spooky tree that strangely resembled the one from the movie.

  Tomorrow I would be cutting that down. I never noticed how scary it was until now. Or maybe it was just the movie.

  More banging followed along with dogs I didn’t know the neighborhood even had barking. Similar to some horror movie, the wind picked up and blew the back door open. I thought for sure that only happened in movies just before they were gutted.

  What did we do?

  All of us screamed at once and ran in opposite directions.

  Thankfully, Emma ran the direction of the gun cabinet.

  But did she grab one? No, that would be too easy. Instead, she ran right past it to the kitchen. I ran after her, well wobbled. I had two of satins spawn attached to my legs.

  In my attempts, I smashed into Emma, knocking us all to the ground.

  Glancing at the object she had a death grip on, I laughed. “A house full of guns and you grab a fork?”

  “I panicked, all right...” Her voice shuddered. “I panicked.”

  “So you grab a fork? Why not a knife that was right beside it?”

  Emma glared. “I panicked!”

  “Clearly,”

  Lucas was trembling in my arms just about the time Logan wrapped himself around Emma like a human scarf.

  “Sway...w-w-what’s out t-t-there...?” Lucas asked.

  It was at that moment that I actually started to feel a little bad for them. I mean, yes they are shit heads but they’re just as scared as we were, possibly more.

  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing—” I was cut off by yet another howl of wind and another loud crashing noise.

  What the hell was out there?

  Both boys clung tighter to us as we backed up against the wall in the kitchen behind the table. Somehow we felt safer with chairs in the way, creating a diversion, let’s just hope we didn’t die in this version.

  What if it is Carol Anne? I thought to myself.

  All my thoughts just went back to my theory of needing a man around. As old fashion as that sounded, I was a firm believer now. It was their job to protect and these 6-year olds with us were providing no protection. I didn’t have the heart to tell them, given their current state of terror, if they couldn’t “man up” at a time like this, there was no hope for them.

  “Emma,” I whispered shakily, repulsed at how freaked out I’d become over a stupid movie. “Go see what’s out there.”

  Emma did a ridiculous gasp-gulp thing that made me chuckle. “Me!” she asked pointing to herself with distress. “Why do I have to do it, why not you?”

  “You have the fork.” I pointed out. “I clearly can’t protect myself as well. You on the other hand could fork ‘em.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  Another loud crash came from the back of the house and someone stepped inside, the floor squeaking with each wet step they took.

  Emma, driven by fear I assume, screamed like a little girl, held the fork up and ran for the perpetrator, all the while—still screaming.

  There was squeaking from the water on the floor, screaming and more screaming. She crashed into the said perpetrator, knocking them both to the ground.

  “What the fuck!” the man cried in pain but I knew that voice. How could I not...no one else had that rich raspy but velvet voice, no one.

  “Jameson?” I asked hesitantly, Logan and Lucas started giggling.

  “Yes it’s me...what the hell?” he grunted in pain. “I think you hit bone...goddamn it Emma!�
�� he continued to scream in pain on the floor.

  I quickly scrambled over to him, and though I couldn’t see clearly with the lack of light, I could vaguely see the outline of Emma’s weapon, impaled in Jameson’s right shoulder and blood.

  “Emma!” I screeched reaching for a flash light. “You stabbed him.”

  “Like I knew it was him.” Emma defended. “He should have said something!”

  “Said something?” his voice took on a panicked edge but remained harsh. “Fuckkkkk...this hurts...damn you Emma.” Jameson slammed his fist on the ground and then moaned in agony having jarred himself.

  “Maybe we should take him to the hospital. I think I did hit his bone...” Emma admitted quietly backing away from Jameson who was screaming again because Logan pushed on the fork.

  “Get him away from me!” Jameson growled fiercely my direction. My arms instinctively reached out to Logan, fearing for his safety. “Stay away from me.”

  “Why are you all wet and muddy?” I asked examining his shoulder.

  He winced as I felt around his wound. It was bleeding but not terribly. Probably because the fork was still in there. Once it was pulled out, I was sure this would need stitches.

  “If you haven’t noticed...it’s fucking raining out.”

  I could tell he was pissed but he didn’t need to be mean with me. I wasn’t the one that stabbed him.

  “Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t stab you!”

  Jameson gingerly rose from the floor using the wall for support, panting. “I’m sorry...god, it hurts so fucking bad!” He groaned holding up his forearm with his left arm, careful not to let the weight of it his pull on his shoulder.

  “I think we should pull it out.” Lucas suggested jumping up in a chair he pulled over. “Can I do it?” he asked bouncing, his eyes wide and excited. “Please, can I do it?”

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” Jameson seethed backing away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Okay, both of you,” I motioned to the boys. “No one touches Jameson. He’s got...” Eyeing his protective injured stance, I settled on, “anger issues.”