Page 62 of Trading Paint

The entire thirteen hour drive to Dodge City, Kansas to race in the Boot Hill Showdown with the World of Outlaws, Sway and I didn’t say one word to each other.

She just gazed out the window in silence.

I decided it was time to apologize when we stopped to eat just outside Dodge City around eleven that morning.

I hated the excruciating silence between us but more so, I hated that I took my frustrations out on Sway. She didn’t deserve that.

“I’m sorry.” We both said at the same time as we stood outside my truck in front of a restaurant.

She laughed reaching up to nudge my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you have a lot going on.”

I shook my head, my eyes focused on my feet. “I shouldn’t have acted like a dick and I need you to keep me in check sometimes. You’re my best friend and I know I take you for granted at times. I just...can’t do this without you.”

“Then don’t be an asshole.”

“I’ll try not to.”

By four that afternoon, the pits in Grand Rapids were filling in and it was time for the drivers meeting.

Sitting there listening to the chief steward describe the rules at the track I began to wonder why they had these meetings. I mean sure, some needed it but really, it annoyed me to attend these. Did the other drivers not understand what happened when the caution came out of where to look for your car number on the pit board?

Perched on the back of his ATV reading notes, the stalking man looked toward my dad and me. “Some guys have been cheating lately and dropping weight throughout the race.”

I don’t know why he was looking at me. I never cheated. Well that was a lie. All racers have cheated at one time or another but I will say that I don’t blatantly do it. Everyone stretches the rules as far as they can, without breaking them.

“You need to number your weights prior to the main. If you drop them,it’sa thousand dollar fine.”

I shook my head. We already had our weights numbered but the fact that this jerk was implying thatIwas cheating angered me. I hated being accused of shit I didn’t do but when you win, it tends to follow you. Everyone was quick to say, “Well he wins because he cheats.”

That night I made fast time with the help of Tommy who had arrived earlier in the week to help us this weekend. Dodge City was a two-day event and I needed a good set-up with the way the track changed constantly so that’s where Tommy came in.

I caught a touch of his conversation with dad and Shey prior to the heats, “If you don’t want to change your weight distribution, but only make a stagger change, you need to turn your adjusters to bring the car back to the original weight that you recorded with the other set of tires. You need to record the number of turns you made to the adjusters so you can recreate the adjustments at the track when you change tire sizes.”

These two always cracked me up when they talked set-ups. Tommy listened intently and dad, well, he was in heaven.

I understood set-ups and could manage on my own but I also knew to concentrate on racing. I needed to focus on that alone. I learned from Jimi with that outlook.

He was a one-man team until he got big sponsorship and now he just showed up to race. That’s what he was paid to do and it was easier on him in many ways. It still didn’t stop him from helping us but he had a good group of guys working on his cars and in turn, they helped us.

Dodge City is a 3/8 mile dirt track that was tacky and just the way I liked it. Then right in the middle of the damn feature, it would turn into a tire-shredding monster.

Dad was also racing tonight since it was a regular scheduled point race for the World of Outlaws, which meant mom tagged along to see us. Originally, I wasn’t supposed to be here but since that asshole USAC official, I wouldn’t be able to compete until the division was in Bloomington. This left me in one of dad’s 410 cars for the next two days. It was fine with me for the most part—I love sprints. Although I was a little irritated with what this would mean for my chances at the Triple Crown.

Half way through the heats, it was as though I was playing ringleader to these assholes, the assholes being my family and friends. I stood there next to my hauler leaning against a set of tires looking over my tire pressures Tommy had jotted down for me earlier and wondering if I could make any changes before the feature.

Kansas was not the place for us, entirely too boring which meant my crew turned to drinking. Once we got to the race that night, I seemed to be the only sober one as I never drank until after the race.

Thankfully, Spencer and Tommy could still function enough to help me with the car. Emma and Sway were another story. I also wasn’t happy about Emma drinking this much. For one, she was sixteen and two; I despised adrunkEmma even more than I did when she was sober. Hard to believe I know.

I insisted Spencer and Tommy stop drinking when I cut a tire down after the first heat and it took them a good fifteen minutes to change it.

Spencer dropped down in the chair beside me.

“I can’t believe I got sober for this shit.” He didn’t seem amused that Alley was now giving him shit about being drunk most of this week.

Not much later when I was getting ready for the feature event, I caught a glimpse of Sway and was somewhat concerned.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked alarmed she was holding a hammer.

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