Page 109 of Trading Paint
You could literally see the anxiety drain from his face. “Jesus, I nearly had a fucking heart attack kid.”
Sprint cars were different in the sense that Sprint cars were simple to me. These stock cars had switches, knobs, tacks, roll bars—they had shit everywhere. When you looked inside of a Sprint car, all you saw was a bar to engage the coupler, steering box, fuel pump, power steering pump and inside of the torch tube was the driveline. Then you had the steering wheel and a seat. That’s it.
Getting them running is similar. Cup cars, you flick a switch.
Being direct drive, sprint cars have no clutch, transmission or starter. There’s a coupler that connects the drive shaft to the rear end but the engine has to be shut off before you can engage it. Once you engage the coupler, the car is pushed with a truck to get it started. Then to shut the sprint car off, you have to disengage the coupler, turn off the fuel valve and run it out of fuel.
Sprint cars are complicated to some, but there’s no other car like them with the unique design and setups. They were half the weight and size of the car I was in, but the same amount of horsepower. It would take some getting used to.
I took it for a spin, made something like twenty-five laps and then brought it back it.
Harry smiled. “Looks like you knew what you were doing.”
Dad laughed beside him but didn’t say anything.
We left after that and my dad indicated he was thinking of starting a NASCAR Busch team first and then he’d look at the Winston Cup series. We never talked about me being the driver but I had a feeling that’s what he was hinting at when he had me testing out that stock car.
I wasn’t sure what to make of all of it so before heading to Terre Haute that night I called the one person I always called when I needed advice, Sway.
As luck would have it these days, she wasn’t home.
That night in Terre Haute was horrible when a lifter broke in my sprint car and to make matters worse, I left with the first woman who asked.
That wasn’t the worst part though, the next night was. Terre Haute was running a double feature and I should have known better than to take a girl back to the hotel with me.
She caught up with me the next night and I had some explaining to do, which is why I preferred to never see these women again. I didn’t like explaining myself.
I tried not to on all accounts because really, what would I say?
“I’m an asshole with extreme commitment issues, oh, and by the way, I’m falling for my best friend and refuse to admit it so that’s why I was with you last night.”
That’s not exactly what women want to hear, could be wrong, but I was almost certain that wouldn’t go over well.
“Hey you,” she smiled while I loaded my bag to catch my flight to Tri-State Speedway where I was meeting up with Spencer and Tommy. “Where did you go last night?” I gave her a blank stare so she continued. “I thought you would have stayed last night.”
“Oh, uh,” I mumbled, I looked down at my cell phone that was ringing,again. I silently wondered if it ever stopped. “I don’t do that sort of thing.” I finally said.
“Sleep?”
“No, stay with women,” I slipped my phone inside my jeans and adjusted my bag on my shoulder.
“Oh...I see...wow...okay.” Her eyes focused on mine before darting to her feet, ashamed.
Damn it.
This was just one more reason why I preferred never to see these women again. I couldn’t stand to see the hurt in their eyes. I knew I was being a jackass. I didn’t need to see it to know, so I avoided it as though it wasn’t happening.
“Listen, it wasn’t you. I just...well, I’m not in town more than a day and to be fair...” I shrugged. “I left.”
“I get it.” she was quiet for a while before I saw a tear slip down her cheek. “You don’t even know my name.”
Great.Now I was giving innocent women a complex and making them cry. This was not a list I wanted to be on.
I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You were wonderful. I just...I can’t stay, Lindsey.”
“I understand.” She choked with a smile that I knew her name and started crying all over again.Because of me.
I hated this. Trying to be an asshole wasn’t working out for me.
