Page 126 of The Legend
Few peoplecould get through to my dad. Actually only three and one was gone.
Arm Restraints – Jameson
There wassomething that occurred to me, actually a few things, in the shop thatafternoon as I sat inside his sprint car, the metal jagged mess of the car wasn’teasy to sit in. For one, after looking at my car, I knew that I was lucky to bealive.
But therewas something I couldn’t bring myself to admit for a long time. It had beenbrewing since Ryder’s death. I was scared. And it wasn’t that I was scared on thetrack, the speed didn’t bother me. Neither did a wreck. What scared me wasleaving my family.
That meantone thing.
I hatedthat too. This wasn’t me but then again, it wasn’t about me any longer and Ifinally realized that. This was about my entire family.
I steeredclear of everyone inside the house, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Irespected the way others dealt with death by discussing Jimi’s life and thatwasn’t me. I didn’t want to talk about it.
So insteadof saying something disrespectful to someone who tried to push their thoughtsin my face, I made my way up to our bedroom.
Soon Swaycame looking for me only to find me sitting out on the balcony drinking a beer.I forgot how good they tasted.
“You shouldn’tbe drinking with your pain pills.” Sway said stepping out onto the balcony. Shesmiled leaning against the railing.
I smiledback at her. “I know...but ittakes the edge off.”
“Are youdoing all right?”
Was I?
No, thepain of his death was real again and I still hadn’t really gotten over thatinside. I felt like it was my fault that he was racing that night. He shouldn’thave been. When he came to me and asked that I get a car ready, I jumped at thechance to race with my dad again.
“Talk tome baby.” She pleaded kneeling down in front of me. Her small hands reached outfor mine. “I need to know that you’re going to be okay. It’s killing me seeingyou like this.”
My tearfulglassy eyes met hers. “I’ve tried to forget.” I choked. “I have. But I can’t.”
“And youshouldn’t.” she looked at me, really looked at me. “But you need to realizeit’s not your fault.”
When thefew people I allowed to ask about the crash, they ask something along the linesof, “Do you remember?”
For the mostpart, the answer to that question is no. I don’t remember.
But lateat night, drenched in sweat, in the flash of darkness overtaken by a restlessnight, I hear the accident and the blistering screech of metal on metal. Ismell methanol, the sound of a sharp growl of a sprint car running lean andthen the pop of it lifting. I hear yelling, by who I don’t know.
So yeah,there were times I had to forcefully stop the memory. I couldn’t take it.Mostly, it was that I didn’t want to remember. I took comfort in knowing thatmy mind was blocking the memories for a reason. I did understand that it wasn’tmy fault.
“I knowit’s not my fault honey but it doesn’t make it any easier. I see the crash.When I sleep, I see it. It’s just a constant reminder.”
“Like youdid with Darrin?”
“Yes...exactly. It’s the same thing.”
“You movedon from Darrin...do you think you can move on from this?”
“I’m notsure but I know I have to or I’ll never get inside a car again.”
Swaydidn’t say anything, just listened as she always did.
“I neverimagined it would feel this way.”
“Neitherdid I.” she agreed climbing onto my lap, her tears wetting the side of my face.
It wasn’tjust me hurting here. Everyone was suffering and if anyone understood how I wasfeeling, it was my wife, the woman that knew me better than anyone, the womanthat protected me and kept me safe.
