Page 4 of Trading Paint
This was not something I enjoyed. Even at eleven, I wanted to be in control of everything and times like this I wasn’t.
“Check her out,” Spencer swooned. “She’s growing up,”
“Dude, how have I not seen her before?” I asked peeking at her once again. I was never shy. I’m not sure that I even knew the meaning of the word but for once, I was starting to understand the emotion that could be classified as shy, I think.
“You’ve gone to school with her since like the second grade.” he smacked my chest. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before.” If it didn’t involve an engine, I hardly paid attention. I couldn’t tell you half the kids that went to my school.
“I think she likes older men anyway.” Spencer replied cockily with a nod.
I was about to respond when dad called for us, “Jameson, Spencer—get over here!”
“Coming,” we yelled as we jumped from the back of the car hauler. He reached for me by my race suit before I made it too far.
“Sway, this is my son, Jameson. I think you two are the same age.” He shook my shoulders. “And this is my other son, Spencer. He’s fourteen.” He ruffled Spencer’s hair. “I’ve got a daughter Emma who’s almost ten but who knows where she disappeared to.”
“She’s selling t-shirts.” Spencer told him smiling at Sway.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Sway shook hands with us to which I smiled at her and for good measure—I added a wink.
I couldn’t have her thinking that Spencer was the better pick. Clearly, I was.
She was beautiful with her full lips, staggering emerald green eyes and lustrous flowing dark mahogany hair with hints of auburn that shone under the lights of the pits. I’d never seen such an innocent looking, but memorable girl before but I’d also never paid any attention to any girls until now.
“You didgoodout there tonight.” She said making eye contact with me, her cheeks flushed.
“Looks like you follow in your dad’s footsteps.” Charlie hedged slinging his arm around Sway’s shoulder.
I laughed. “Yes, but I’m better.”
Most everyone in the racing communities compared my talent to Jimi’s. In the beginning, I welcomed it, as he was a legend in sprint car racing, but it soon became something I felt I needed to live up to and eventually surpass.
Charlie and my dad both started laughing at my 11-year old confidence. I hardly thought it was funny. It was the truth.
After that night, Sway Reins and I were inseparable.
I had friends. Well, that was a lie. Iknewother kids but to call them friends, I wouldn’t go that far because we never talked outside of school or outside of the track. School friends were separate from track friends—it was just the way it was.
There was one kid, Justin West. We had started together in the USAC quarter midget and midgets. We hung out but outside of the track, we didn’t see each other. He lived in Hillsboro, Indiana so it was rare that we saw each other but being the same age, we shared the same interests, racing.
With Sway, it was easy to be around her. She didn’t care if I wasn’t at school, had a bad day or didn’t want to see anyone.
I was incredibly moody.
Sway was there on Saturday nights when I raced and helped me scrap mud from the car and made sure that I had tear-offs on my helmet. She was there on Sundays if I had a bad night racing the night before but the best thing was, with Sway, we didn’t have to maintain the relationship we had or even try—we were friends.
I thought for a while that it would be cool if I could call her my girlfriend but I saw what happened to all the girls my brother had been friends with and then dated. It ended horribly and worst of all he lost the friend.
I couldn’t lose Sway. Just her presence relaxed me in a way I’d never had before. And best of all, she believed in me. I came to depend on her in a vital way.
Before that sprint race at Elma, I was usually only allowed to race twice a month. This was supposed to keep me focused on my schoolwork and not as much on racing.
During the summers I was allowed to race every weekend if I wanted to so that’s when I began to shine.
The summer of ‘92, I again won the Clay Cup Nationals in Deming, the Northwest Regional Midget Championship and the Midget Championship at Grays Harbor Raceway.
