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Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

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Chapter 1
Home of Robert McGuire, Darlington, South Carolina, Saturday, 0430
The most annoying sound in the known universe drug me from the blissful arms of Morpheus. Much to my dismay. Not that I had much choice in the matter. It’s Saturday morning and mom has an early morning track time. And the Lady in Black waits for no one. You may know her by her other names. The Darlington Raceway or The Track Too Tough to Tame. Especially new car and engine designs that need to be tested for the upcoming racing season. And today I get to be mom’s time keeper. Dad on the other hand gets to play Crew Chief. While mom gets to chew on her nails while Tommy takes her newest design to the limits.

Okay I can hear you all out there. What is with the attitude? Well, let me give you a little history on my family. For starters, we’re not your normal average everyday American family. You see mom and dad are both engineers. Dad is an automotive chassis engineer and mom is a total engine design engineer. You most likely haven’t heard of them though.

Nobody knows the names of those that build the cars and engines for people like the Earnheart’s, Petty’s, Jordon’s, or Steward’s. The real kicker is mom and dad design cars and engines for more than just NASCAR. They have customers in every field of Automotive Racing there is. I mean all. Open Wheel or F1 (Formula 1) Indycar, F2, F3, GP2 series, Formula Renault, Endurance, Touring, Drift, Rally, and of course Stock car or as it is known around here, NASCAR. If you want a new design and you don’t want the competition to know what you’re up to, you come to my mom and dad.

They made their name on word of mouth alone. Not only are they good at what they do, but they keep their mouths shut. The last time someone tried to steal one of their designs for a customer, mom shot the guy in the ass. I’m not joking here. She pulled out a 22 cal. pistol and shoot the man in his ass as he was exiting through the design office window just after midnight. Mom and dad take protecting the secrets of their trade very seriously. When you get paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for privacy you expect your secrets to be kept. Especially, in a sport where wins are measured in inches sometimes.

As for why I’m bitching about waking up on a Saturday morning. You would be bitching as well if you had to get up at 4 in the morning, to be at an empty track by 5:30. Oh you’re wondering who I am? In those famous words. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m a man of wealth and taste. Yeah right! I wish! Sure, I know that my family doesn’t want for money, but I have to earn my spending cash. Because mom and dad, damned will not just hand out cash for no reason, not even to me their oldest son.

Anyway, back to your question. The name is Robert Burns McGuire Jr. or just Rob to my friends. Now my family calls me Robby because of the fact that there is a Junior on the end of my name. For a while people called me Junior or RB, but I put a stop to that crap in the fifth grade. I told my homeroom teacher in no uncertain terms that my name was Rob, not Robby, Junior, or RB, despite what my parents called me. When she tried to call me Junior in class, I corrected her. She thought that sending me to the principle would sort the problem out. It got sorted alright. The principle agreed with me and it was my homeroom teacher that got the reprimand.

I put off getting out of bed for as long as I can. I try to go back to sleep but the pounding on my bedroom door is proceeded by the second most annoying sound in the universe. My older sister’s voice. “Robby, you need to get up now.”

“I’m up already!” I yell back at her as I throw off my covers. Even as I swing my feet over the side of my bed I grouse out. “What the hell is the big hurry anyway? We don’t have to be at the track for another hour.”

As I open my door I blurrily peer out at my sister, Beth. “Look Robby, I don’t know the whole story, but it’s bad. Tommy got arrested again last night, and we don’t have our normal test driver today. Mom said for you to pack your Nomex suit and gear, along with your shoes, gloves, full-face helmet, and your HANS Device. Don’t ask questions that I don’t have the answers to just do it. She said that you’re driving today. Before you say anything don’t. I’ll be up in the Spotter’s nest, and Joey will be on top of the box with dad. Besides, of the three of us, you’re the best F-1 driver we have. We all know this, and none of us are arguing the fact.”

When Beth told me that Tommy was arrested last night I knew it was bad. She didn’t have to tell what for, as it didn’t matter. Tommy was pushing things with the local cops already lately. He had already been arrested twice for DUI and should have had his professional drivers ticket pulled. If it hadn’t been for mom, dad, and a friendly judge he would have been in lockup three months ago. I doubt if mom and dad are going to bail him out this time. I’ll just have to find out what happened later. Right now, I need to get my racing gear packed and dressed for the track.

“Okay, sis. Let mom and dad know that I’ll be right down.”

“Just get dressed and pack your suit. I’ll drive you and Joey over to the track. Mom and dad left twenty minutes ago, to try and bail Tommy out, with no luck. They said they’ll meet us at the track. Now hurry.” With that Beth slammed my door. I could hear her walking away from the door.

I quickly throw off my robe, to be followed by my t-shirt and underwear. I don’t bother with a shower, because I know that the family is in a bad way. For mom to want me to drive the new car it must be for a huge client. One that could make or break our small racing company. I quickly pull on a fresh pair of underwear, and t-shirt. Reaching into the locker that holds my racing gear I pull out my Nomex suit, shoes & gloves, full-face helmet, and your HANS Device and toss them on my bed. I grab the Nomex socks, pants, and shirt that part of my base layer next. I sit down my bed and start dressing. I start with the socks and work my way up. After the socks come the pants then long sleeve shirt. I leave the glove liners and balaclava head sock for later.

I next pull on the outer Nomex racing leathers. The Alpinerstars Super Tech Suit costs close to 2000.00 dollars each, but when it comes to my safety when driving at over 200mphs mom and dad don’t play around. Alpinestars Super Tech Suit features a fully floating arm construction and an extensive stretch panel on the back for excellent, anatomical performance fit. Light, close-fitting and featuring an innovative three-layer construction of Aramidic and Nomex fibers, this suit fully complies with the latest FIA homologation standards. Between the two layers I stand a damned good chance of surviving a crash and burn. And I have three of them in my racing locker. Each one a different color.

The last thing I put on is my shoes for now. I pack my gloves, helmet, and HANS device in an equipment bag. Once dressed I head downstairs. I drop the bag with my gear by the front door then head to the kitchen. Where I grab some toast with peanut butter, orange juice, and a big cup of coffee. I look over at Joey my kid brother as he munches down on a large bowl of fruit loops. At fifteen he towers over me, even though I am three years his senior.

Yeah, you heard me. My little brother is taller than I am. Not to mention outweighing me by about fifty pounds. Hell, my sister is bigger than I am. Guess I should explain a little about my medical history. You see, about five years ago, just after I turned thirteen I was diagnosed with childhood leukemia. After three rounds of radiation and chemotherapy, one of which that was extremely experimental, I was pronounced cancer free. The problems didn’t start showing up until around my sixteenth birthday.

It seems that the experimental chemo drugs burned out more than just the cancer. It also screwed with my growth hormones and one of my testicles. I may be cancer free, but my growth was stunted and I’m now minus one ball, while the other is barely producing enough testosterone to qualify me as a male. In short, I barely stand 5’5” tall and weigh maybe 125. When both of your siblings are not only taller and bigger than you are life can really suck.

Especially in high school. You see, thanks to my time fighting leukemia, I lost two years of school. So, instead of being a senior and close to finishing high school I’m a sophomore. The same grade as my brother.

Thankfully Beth graduated two years ago, and I don’t have to put up with the bullshit of having both siblings in school with me at the same time. I just have to deal with having a brother who is younger than me in the same grade. I don’t get too much flack from Joey because I’m his ride to school, and to a few other places. When he has the cash to pay for gas.

Beth came in shortly after I sat down. As usual she was on the phone talking with someone. When I heard that she was talking to mom I paid more attention to the conversation.

“Yes ma’am. We’ll be there no later than five-thirty.” There was a pause as Beth let mom talk. “Yes ma’am, Robby is wearing his SFI-five gear. Yes ma’am, all of it. He even put on his base layer Nomex gear.” Another pause. “No ma’am. It’s the all blue suit. Why?” Another pause. “I understand mom. I’ll send him back up stairs to change into his other leathers.” Another pause and this time it was a little longer. Long enough that I started to worry. “Yes ma’am. We’ll all be there in our Team Leathers. See you then.”

The moment I heard Beth mention the family team leathers I knew something really big was up. “Okay sis. Spill.”

“Mom wants us all in our family team leathers.” She gave Joey a hard look. The one that said more than words. “That means you too, Joey. I have to get mom’s and dad’s suits to take with us. Robby, I know that you hate wearing your hair in a ponytail, but mom wants your hair up in one. No arguments. I’ve got to put mine up as well. Whoever we’re showing off the new car for is really big on appearances. She said something about them being an old-world racing team. Joey, when we get to the track you need to get your ass up to the spotter’s stand fast.”

“Wait I thought that you were going to be my spotter today?” This really worried me now. I don’t like changes in the plan, especially when I’m the one in the cockpit. After all it’s my ass on the line. Not theirs. One mistake and I could end up dead.

“Mom wants Joey up in the spotter’s stand with dad. She wants me in the chase car. She will be on the box. She didn’t say why so I don’t know. Just deal with it Robby. Besides, it’ll only be us out there today. It’s not like you’re actually racing or qualifying. Not that you’ll ever get the chance anyway. Not with your health issues. We all know it, but you won’t face the truth. I don’t know why mom ever let you get behind the wheel. Every sponsor wants their drivers to be six-foot-tall and good looking. Not some runt with waste long hair and looks more like a girl than any boy has the right to.” Beth’s words stung. The sad part it was true.

It may be true, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t drive. I slammed my fist into the table as I stood up. “Okay, sis I hear you. You don’t have to get nasty about shit you know. If this wasn’t a test drive for mom I would love to race you. Hell, better yet, YOU drive the test car and I’ll drive the chase car. I’ll even give you a four-lap lead and still chase your ass down. Not only will I chase you down but pass your ass all four times. And win!”

Beth knew she had pushed it too far with me. She could tell by the look in my eyes that I was pissed. The challenge I just threw down was not an idle threat. Beth knew that I could out drive her and Joey any day of the week. Hell, the only reason I wasn’t on one of the circuits already is because of the rents. I passed the physical, other tests to get my professional racers ticket shortly after I turn eighteen six months ago. Not only that, I had been test driving mom and dad’s designs since I was sixteen. I have just been waiting for my chance to show one of the professional teams what I can do. Beth may have her ticket now, but she still cannot match me on the track.

“Robby, calm down bro. You go out there all pissed off you’ll get yourself dead, man. Beth is just shooting off at the mouth, bro. She didn’t mean nothing. We all know that someone will pick you up for their team sooner rather than later. For now, you need to get your head space right. You don’t, and mom and dad will lose more than a contract, they’ll lose a son.” I looked over at Joey and took a deep breath.

He was right. Emotions had no place at 200 plus miles per hour on the track too tough to tame. Darlington Raceway has more wrecks than any other track with the exception of Dayton. Dayton also has the highest number of deaths, with Darlington coming third behind Talladega. I go out there pissed off I can get myself dead. Real dead in a hurry. As I was calming down Joey turned on Beth.

“And you need to get your head out of your ass, Beth. Fucking pissing Robby off before he has to show off a new design is a sure way to get him dead, dumbass. You fucking know better. It’s not his fault that fuck stick boyfriend of yours got arrested. We know that you love Tommy, Beth but he’s bad for business. Do the family a favor and cut the shit loose. You can find someone better than Tommy, Beth. You’re smart, pretty, and talented. Not to mention you’re going to college on your own dime. You’re going to make it big on your own name, not the family’s.”

I had to give it to Joey. He sure knew how to calm down an overstressed situation. That was one of the reasons he made such a great spotter. He had called more races for me than mom or dad and did a better job. He could spot a wreck happening and find me a path through the wreckage where they couldn’t. I had a feeling that was why mom wanted him on the tower.

“I’m going to get changed. Beth you better hurry as you need to completely change if you’re going to be my chase driver. Let’s get a move on people. I don’t know who we’re putting this dog and pony show on for, but the rents never go to this kind of trouble for no reason. That means they’re important.”

I put my dishes in the sink and headed back to my room to change. I heard Joey in his room as I passed and Beth in hers changing into their family leathers. They loved it went they got the chance to wear the family team leathers. Me, I flat out hate them. Not for the reasons most people would think though. I hate the family leathers because they made me look so much like a girl it wasn’t funny. Not because of the colors, but because of the way they hugged my slim body and slightly feminine frame.

I don’t have nothing against the color really, I don’t. I mean nothing’s wrong with purple. It just doesn’t help with the way the suit hugs my body. It’s just that between the color, the cut, my long hair, and where our team name sits on my chest. I have a hard time convincing people that I’m not a girl.

I hear you out there. Cut your hair if it is causing you that much grief. Well, when you’re thirteen and bald from chemotherapy and radiation therapy you let your hair grow when it comes back. I wasn’t about to cut my hair again until I was sure that the cancer wasn’t coming back. The result of that was blue-black hair reached down to the middle of my back. Much like my mom’s hair. Of all three of us kids, I was the only one that had her hair color. Beth and Joey took after our dad with his fire red hair.

It didn’t take me long to change uniforms and head back downstairs. Joey is already down by the door waiting for me and Beth. He hands me my gear bag with a smile. “I know you don’t want to hear this Robby, but I got to say it. You look damned good in those leathers. You should wear the family leathers more often.”

“Yeah, well, if they didn’t make look so much like a girl I would.”

“Robby, who cares what you look like. You can out fucking drive nine out of ten Formula One drivers, and seven out of eight NASCAR drivers. I won’t even go into the other racing types. I doubt there is a driver out there that can match you in Formula Renault, Endurance, Touring, Drift, and Rally. I mean your nickname is couldn’t have been better. I mean come on Speedy. Think about it. So, what if you look like a girl.” There it was. The very blunt and uncomfortable truth about my price for surviving cancer. “I say fucking own it and fuck what anyone else thinks. No matter what I’ll always have you back.”

I looked down at the two round mounds on my chest that have been accented by my leathers. The other nasty side effect of experimental chemo drugs is I grew breasts. Not small little cancelable A cups, but nice round B cup tits. I usually bind them, so people don’t see them under my shirts. The problem with my Nomex suits is the heat. Because of the heat I have to let them run free as it were. To keep them from bouncing around too much I normally wear a sports bra under my Nomex suits.

“And Robby, you’re no coward. Shit bro, you faced death and beat it back when you were only thirteen. I remember you being sick as a dog for days on end. I watched as you lost your hair, after taking those foul drugs. Undergoing surgery to remove cancer growths in your body and to remove your destroyed testicle. Dealing with growing breasts. All the bullshit that came with being the smallest guy in school. You know the only asshole that has a problem with you at school is Hart. And that’s because you beat his ass in that rat race.”

“Joey, our aunt can beat Thomas Hart in a rat race. Even you can do it. That monstrosity he calls a drift racer is so overpowered and under balanced it’s pathetic. Hell, Beth can take him with her factory spec Charger.” I had to tell the truth.

“There is where you’re wrong Robby.” Beth’s voice drew both of our attentions to where she stood at the foot of the stairs. “I’m good, but nowhere near to how good you are. You get out there on the track and do shit that is magical. I’ve seen you take that sixty-nine Judge of yours and out run the most modern cars there are on the rat racing circuit. Don’t think I haven’t heard about the hot looking raven-haired racer girl on the streets of Columbia in a nineteen-sixty-nine blueberry black GTO J model. Look I know that you don’t want to hear this, but everybody thinks that you’re a girl not a boy.”

I looked over at Joey who just nodded his head. “I’ve heard the rumors too, bro. Even the guys in my gym class think you’re a girl. They aren’t the only ones either. Over half our class does.”

“Fuck this shit. After today I’m cutting my hair and getting these tits cutoff. Right now, let’s just deal with the test.” I snapped then walked out to Beth’s car. Joey and Beth closed up the house and joined me in her car.

As we drove over to Darlington Raceway I forced the conversation out of my head. I needed to concentrate on the test drive. I know every inch of the track. I should with as many times that I’ve just walked around it. I let the technical specs for the track follow through my mind. Going over the banking for each turn. The length of the straightaways. Total length of the track for a lap. The surfacing material. When it was built, and how.

I know that Darlington isn’t your normal Formula one track. In fact, it isn’t even your normal NASCAR track. The number four turn wall cuts in on the exit. The surface itself presents a challenge as it is not made of concert but asphalt. Making it one of the slickest tracks in the world under normal conditions. In the middle of February, the track is going to be green, not to mention cold. Not the optimal time to be running a test.

As we enter through the gate for the in field and pit area the security guard just smiles at us. The man knows us better than our teachers at school. He should, as we have spent more time here than at school. The only place we spend more time is the family garage and fabrication shop. Beth pulls around to the pit area and parks behind the family car hauler. I can see the new car is already down, and the guys are lowering down the chase car for todays test. I can’t tell the deference between the two cars. Then again, I never can. All I know is that the new car is supposed to handle better and be faster than the chase car.

I look back at Joey in the back seat. “Joey, remember to keep an eye on Beth for me at all times. Don’t worry about my position on the track. Let me worry about that, okay. Be sure to watch our lap times and our splits. We’ll be running forty laps today. That means we’ll be coming in for at least one pit spot. Make sure to start counting us down the second we enter pit road.”

“Bro, relax. I got this, okay. You and Beth just keep your heads in the games on the track. Remember race the track, not each other. The Lady is going to be in a bad mood today. Don’t turn your backs on the bitch.” Joey opened his door and climbed out. “Good luck and keep it off the wall.”

Me and Beth stepped out of her car watched as he headed for the other side of the pit area and for the spotter’s tower. “You know something, Robby. For a pain in the ass little brother he really does care about us.”

“Yah, you can’t help but love the little shit bird at times.” I snark only to have Beth punch me in the arm. “Knock it off already. I don’t need a Charlie horse right now.”

“Forget that shit, Robby.” Beth was pointing over at a group of men standing with mom and dad. “Is that who I think it is?”

I looked over at the men with mom and dad. It took me a few minutes to recognize them. When I did I knew that the importance of this test just went up by a factor of ten. “If you’re seeing Karl and Bertha Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, Wilhelm Maybach, Emil, and Mercedes Jellinek then yeah. That is who you think it is.”

“Oh shit. This just got heavy duty real, little bro. If they’re here to see mom and dad’s new racer designs, it could mean a massive influx for the family business.” I wanted to pound Beth for stating the very obvious. It wasn’t like I wasn’t worrying before.

Before I could bitch her out or walk off, mom spotted us both. Mom started waving for us. “Over here kids. I would like for you to meet some very important people.”

I shrugged my shoulders and led Beth over to meet the nice people from Mercedes-Benz Automotive. Mom never got the chance to introduce us by name before Bertha Benz grabbed first Beth then myself in hug followed by a tradition kiss on the checks. All while saying to mom. “These young ladies need no introduction Jewels. Why their hair alone marks them as yours and Robert’s daughters. And the family team uniforms just insure that the boys stay well away from them.”

I want to scream that I was a boy, but mom beat me to it. Only not the way that I would have wanted. “Thank you, Bertha for the kindness. Yes, these are our daughters, Elizabeth and Roberta. And they are our drivers for the test.”

I couldn’t believe what mom just said. She knows that I hate being called a girl. If it wasn’t for the Mercedes-Benz people standing there I would have gone off big time. Yet these people hold the fate of the company in their hands and I keep my mouth shut.

My embarrassment is only worsened by Mercedes Jellinek smiling down at me from her statuesque height of six feet. “Surely you jest, Jewels. This raven-haired beauty has no place behind the wheel of a Formula One car. She belongs on the stage for a ballet company. Why I can see the grace just flowing off of her.”

“Mercedes, we have been friends for a long time. You know that I do not jest when it comes to drivers or to cars. Roberta can out drive any man you want to match her against. She is without a doubt one of the finest drivers to date in any field of the sport.” The fire in mom’s eyes let me know that I was to put on a show. To hell with the test drive. “As for Elizabeth, let me be blunt when I say that the only person that can out drive her is Roberta. You want to see what my cars can do then my daughters will show you. When they get done I expect the contract to be signed. GIRLS.”

Mother marched us away from the gathered business delegation. I could tell that she was pissed before, but now she was beyond that. Why she was pissed off before I could only guess, but it had to be because of Tommy’s arrest. Once we were far enough away I cornered mom about what was going on.

“Okay, mom. What the hell is going on? What’s got your panties in twist? I know it’s not just about Tommy.”

“Yeah, mom, what gives? You’re never this uptight over a test.” Beth jumped in behind me.

“Look kids. This is one time that I need you to put on a real show. Drive those two cars to their limits. No holding back. I want qualifying lap times out there.”

“Not until you answer our questions mom. We deserve answers. And what is with that bullshit of not correcting Mrs. Benz about my sex? Why are you pushing the girls’ day on the track shit?” I demanded. Something was up with mom and the Mercedes-Benz people.

“You’re right Robby you deserve an answer.” Mom sighed. “As you know last night Tommy got arrested. For DUI again. While the dummy tried to resist and got more charges add on. The reason he was drunk is because of those four men back there. They got him drunk on purpose. I can’t prove it, but they did it, so they can get their hands on our company. The Mercedes-Benz Corp has been after your father’s and mine company for years now. They figure if they can control our designs. They can limit us to only working for them. As you know we make a pretty good living by being an independent design firm.”

“Wait are you saying this whole test is a stunt to gain control over our family business?” mom just nodded her head yes. “Then didn’t you correct them about me not being a girl?”

“There is a clause in our contract with them. Mercedes and Bertha are using that clause to try and gain control, Robert.” I could tell that there was something about this clause that upset mom. If it upset her, then it must really piss off dad.

“What is the clause mom?” Beth asked for me.

“They can ask for extremely specific design features be placed in a car, for a certain type of driver and the specs must be able to be completed with no notice. This time those two old bitches went behind their husbands’ backs and asked for a car designed solely for a female driver. Then to make sure that we had to meet those design specs got Tommy wasted and arrested. They weren’t expecting us to able to come up with two female drivers on short notice.”

It all made sense now. It was like a light bulb going off in my head. It was a dirty low down underhanded trick on the part of the Benz people, but it was legal. Tommy didn’t have to get drunk with them last night. He could have just walked away but didn’t. Putting our family business in jeopardy with his stupidity. With the two female members of the Benz Corp pushing for women drivers they had put mom and dad in a shitty situation, and me on the wrong end of the smelly pointy stick.

I make up my mind that there well be hell to pay. If mom wants me to put those Corporate suits in their place. Then that is what she’ll get. “Come on sis. Time to get our shit together and put on a real show for the ass clowns.”

“Thank you, Robby. I know that you hate it when people think that you are girl. I know I should have correct those two bitches and I will once the test is done. I promise you sweetheart.”

“Pardon my French, mom. But fuck that shit! Those cock suckers think they can come in here and bully this family into knuckling under they got another thing coming.” I turn to Jim Hailee, our Chief mechanic. “Yoh! Mister Hailee. What’s the track speed record?”

Jim Hailee was many things but stupid wasn’t one of them. “The fastest time ever set was in a Qualifying by Aric Almirola. With a lap time of 26.705 seconds and a top speed of 184.145 miles per hour on April 11, 2014. If you’re shooting for that record good luck Robby. Because you’re going to need it. Almirola had prefect track conditions and the best setup for the track that day. Which you don’t have. The track is greener than a sapling and colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra in January. Forget about going for the track record Speed. It’s just too dangerous today.”

I looked up the man that both respected and admired for more than just his professionalism. Jim Hailee was one of the top mechanics in the business. He could go to any of the big corporate teams and name his price. Yet he is happy working for my parents in their small family shop. That didn’t mean I was going to listen to him. Not today anyway. I was way too pissed off for that.

“Jim, set the cars up for qualifying runs.” I looked over at mom. “What type of power planets are the cars outfitted with, mom?”

Mom just smiled. “Both cars have the new engines Robby. Wring them out and see if you can break them.”

I turned to Beth. “We’ll do four laps to warm up the tires, sis. On the fifth lap pull up along side just before we cross the start/finish line. Stay on the inside line, leave the outside to me. We’ll take the next ten laps to really lay down the rubber. Hold nothing back, sis. One way or the other we put those ass hats packing with their tails between the legs.”

Beth just pulled me into a hug. “Done deal Rob. Those two old bitches may believe they have sabotaged mom and dad by getting Tommy drunk and arrested. But they made one major fucking mistake. They pissed off the best damned driver I know of in the sport.”

“Got that shit right. Only you are wrong about one thing. They pissed off the two best fucking drivers in the sport. You and me.” I looked over at Jim. “Fuel and tires, for twenty laps, Jim.”

Jim just smiled and shook his head. “Jewels, if your kids don’t get themselves killed out there today. Do me a favor. Find them both a ride with one of the teams. If not sponsor them yourself. I’ll be more than happy to be their Crew Chief and I can get them Pit Crews within the week. With a fire, passion, and drive like theirs they’re wasted sitting on the sidelines.”

Jim turned and walked towards the cars and the crews there. He started hollering orders before he was ten feet away. “Jake, Henry, Mark, Bobby, get me two sets of tires pressured and set for a qualifying run, and two sets for a race run. Billy, Johnny, two tanks of fuel for each car. Steve, get the others and set the pit boxes for racing trim. We got three hours people, and no time to spare. Get a move on. Assholes and elbows, people.”

I just chuckled along with mom, and Beth. Once we were alone mom gave me a worried look. “Look, Robby, I know that you want to put those people in their place, but don’t endanger yourself or Beth. If the track or car feels wrong bring it in. the same goes for you Beth. You kids mean more to your father and me than the company does. If the cars start to act up, shut them down. Understand?”

“Mom, I love you and dad you know, that right?” Mom just nodded her head. “Then quit worrying and let us drive the wheels off those cars. You and dad built and designed them. We drive them to the edge and bring them back. Usually in one piece. That is what Beth and I do. And we’re good at it.”

“Okay, Robby. One last thing. Your dad will be on channel two, while Joey will be on channel three. I got channel one with Jim. If you want to talk to each other on the track use channel six.” When she finished mom gave me and Beth a hug then hurried away.

“Beth, no matter what happens between now and the time this is all over we need to keep my real sex a secret. The question is how. The moment those Corporate suits tweak to me being a boy the whole thing could blow up in our faces.”

“Then we just let them continue to think you’re a girl. It’s not like mom or us to correct them. And everybody has been calling you either Robby or Speedy. So, they don’t know that you’re not a girl. We do the test, put them in their place, and then we head home for the day. To celebrate I’ll pay for the pizza.” Beth was smiling at me as she laid out the facts. Beth then started to giggle. “Just think if they sign you to their F-1 team, I get to have the baby sister I always wanted.”

I snorted then started to laugh along with her. “Yeah right, sis. Come on, let’s finish getting ready for our run.”

I know that we have three hours before we have start driving, but all drivers have their own special ritual for getting ready to drive. For Beth she spends an hour or two just meditating. Doing simple breathing exercises to calm her nerves. Me, I play music on my earbuds. Everything from jazz to contemporary and classic rock to classical chamber music. I even listen to music when I drive.

For the next two hours Beth and I just get into the zone. We know how dangerous this track is on good days. With what we’re going to be doing today the track is going to be twice as deadly. With an hour to go before the test Beth helps me adjust my ponytail for my Nomex balaclava head sock. I do the same for her before heading back over to pit road. I put in my earphones for my radio and pull on the balaclava. Next come the glove liners and gloves. The last thing I put on is my helmet before climbing into the car’s cockpit. Bobby Joe, my left rear tire changer helps me strap into my custom-made seat. I hook up my I-pod to the radio and turn on the music. I give Bobby Joe the thumbs up and he steps away.

I flip the ignition switch and wait for the team to kick the engine over. Unlike with Stock cars, F-1 cars have to be started by an external crank that is connected directly to the engine in the rear of the car. When the engine turns over I get the first rush of the day. I slowly flex my hands on my Hamalton® steering wheel. I wait for Jim to give the signal to pull out.

When it comes, I push in the clutch and shift into first gear. I feel the power of the V-6 turbo charged engine feed the massive 8 speed transmission. As Beth and I roll out from our pit boxes I fight the growing excitement. I flip the switch I have for my music and let my race mix play.

As the sounds of Kenny Loggins ‘Highway into the danger zone’ fill my ears I pull out on to the track. Beth is right behind me. For the next 3 minutes, 33 seconds, and two laps the song fills my ears. Neither Beth or me are really pushing the cars yet. We’re slowly building up the pressure in our tires and getting a feel for the track conditions. When the sounds of Alice Cooper’s famous ‘School’s Out’ come across next I begin to increase my speed. For the next 3 laps I let Beth pull ahead and set the pace. As we round turn four and head for the start/finish line I pull along side of her and wait for the next song to play.

We cross the line and I put my foot down. I down shift and grab a lower gear as the opening cords of AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ play in my ears over the roar of the V-6 turbo charged monster sitting just behind me. I pull ahead of Beth as we enter turn one heading for turn two. I up shift in the middle the bank between one and two. I dive for the inside lane just in front of Beth as we exit turn two onto the back straightway. I up shift into seventh gear just before entering turn three. I hold that gear through turn four. As I exit turn four onto the front straightway I hug the inside line. I shift into eight gear and keep my foot on the floor. I lift off just before turn one but only slightly.

I never look in my mirror. I know that Beth is breathing down my neck trying to catchup. For the next 3 minutes and 27 seconds I just let the music take me away and drive the car to its limits. I quit racing Beth on the second racing lap. It’s just me, the car, and the Toughest Track on the NASCAR circuit. I don’t care that Darlington isn’t a Formula One sanctioned track. Give me the Lady in Black over any track in the world to test the metal of a driver. This is one Lady that will take on all comers, and win.

I no longer care about the suite monkeys from Mercedes-Benz. All I care about is pushing this car to its limits. With it pushing myself to my limits. Testing my nerves and skills against the Lady in Black. My radio crackles and I hear my dad’s voice.

“Back it down Speedy! You proved your point to the suite monkeys.”

I key my mike just before I let my smartass bone kick in. “Sorry daddy. But not today. That record is mine.”

Dad doesn’t even try to ordered me off the track. “Beth, bring it in baby girl. Your sister is in one of her moods. Clear the track.”

I don’t even reply to him calling me Beth’s sister. I don’t really care. Because the next song on my earbuds is one that will push me to break the record. Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Darlington County.’ My radio crackles again as dad comes in just over the music.

“Hold your line Speedy. That’s it. Just like that. You got four turns. Let’s take them one at time. Turn one enter low and go high for turn two.” I do exactly what dad tells me. “Perfect and dive for the inside. Good. You want to ease up for turn three, but not much. You want to enter low for three and go high for four. Remember the to watch for the wall on the exit.”

I don’t know what has gotten into dad, but he sure got behind me fast. Not that it matters as I do exactly what he tells me. I can feel the rear tires starting to slide in the turns already. That means I need new tire soon. As I come out of turn four I get a solid look at the start/finish line and put my foot all the way down. The turbo screams in my ears. My blood is pounding behind my eyes. I feel my sweat running down my back. This is it. I either break the record or not. I won’t get a second chance today. The car won’t take another run like this. Six laps at qualifying speeds is not good for any engine. I’m surprise that the engine has already red lined on me. I cross the line and let off the gas.

Even before I reach turn one I hit the kill switch for the engine and coast through turns one and two. I let gravity and wind resistance slowly me down. I got just over a half mile to bleed off all that speed. I know that I’ll need to use the breaks before turn four to make the pit road turn off. I key my mike.

“Thanks for the help dad.”

“No problem sweetheart. You want the good news or the bad news?” I had no idea of what bad news he could have. So, I went with the good news first. “Well you broke the track record for both speed and time kiddo. You really did put on one hell of a show.”

“What’s the bad news then?”

“First of all because you used a Formula One car, and this is an out of season run. It doesn’t qualify. Second, because you did it on an unsanctioned track it doesn’t count for the Formula One speed record. Third you were five miles short of the all-time speed record for F One. By the way if your run had counted you would have set records in both NASCAR and Formula One, Speedy.”

“Holy Shit! Just how fast was I going?”

“You crossed the line at two-thirty-nine-point-eight. That makes you one of the fastest F One drivers out there. Unofficially.”

I could barely believe my ears, 239.8 mph. I may not have one of the fastest F-1 times, but I have set an unofficial track record for Darlington. And no one can take that away from me. Not that I cared what others think. It would just be nice to have the official credit. At least for once. I put those thoughts out of my head as I pull onto pit road heading for my pit box.

I know it wasn’t a full 400 or 500-mile race, but I felt like I just won the pole position for the Southern 500. As I pull to a stop in my pit box the pit crew swarms the car and me. Jim was unstrapping me as I removed my helmet and gloves. I barely got my steering wheel disconnected before Jim was lifting me from the cockpit of the car. The rest of the pit crew were helping to toss me around on their shoulders like I had just won the Indy 500.

When the pit crew finally put me down mom was standing there and she pulled me into massive hug. “My God, honey. Do you have any idea of what you have just done?!”

“I think I do mom. I just set the unofficial new track record. Too bad its no good. I would love to see the look on that asshole Thomas Hart’s face when I told him.” I could barely keep the smile off my face.

“God damned, Speedy. I’ve never seen such raw talent. What you did out there today was some of the craziest driving I’ve ever seen. I knew that you were good, but you proved that you’re five times better than what any of us thought.” Jake Marley said as he pulled me into a hug himself.

Bobby Hart was next. “Now I know why that worthless little shit of a brother lost to you in a street race. If you can drive like that on a track I don’t want to see what you would in a rat race.”

“Robby, if you have been rat-racing again.” Mom started but stopped as the Mercedes-Benz party showed up. “We’ll finish this conversation later back at the house Roberta.”

The first to say anything was Mercedes Jellinek. “Jewels, we would like a word with you please?”

Mom looked at Beth and me. “I’ll be right back girls.” I don’t know what mom and the suits talked about, but there was a bunch of pointing at me and Beth. Followed by a bunch of arm waving and head shaking. When mom finally walked back over to us she had a very concerned look on her face.

“What’s up mom?” Beth asked for us.

“They want to sign our whole company to be a brand-new racing team. That means all of us.” Mom answered her.

“Hot damn that’s fantastic! Why the long face?” I could barely contain my excitement.

“They will only sign us if Roberta McGuire is one of our drivers.”
-----tbc-----

Chapter 2
The McGuire family home, Darlington, South Carolina, Saturday, 1400.
I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the time we were at the track. I knew I had to wait until we got home. I know that the contract is a big one for mom and dad. I mean when a world-wide auto manufacture wants to build a racing team around your family owned racing design firm. You just don’t turn them down outright. You take your time and think things through. But the one hinging point for me was those people thought that I was a girl. And it was the girl Roberta, that they wanted driving for them.

Well not just Roberta but my sister Beth as well. It seems that Bertha Benz, and Mercedes Jellinek have this crazy idea of forming an all-female driver race team to take on the boys of Formula One. According to dad they have had the idea for a while now too. They just haven’t had any luck in finding the right set of female drivers to pull it off. That is until now.

When mom didn’t correct them about me being a boy at the track they got to talking between themselves. They figured that they could talk mom and dad into forming their all-female driver team. By using me and Beth. Well I should say Roberta and Elizabeth. When I heard this, I was all set to correct the two old bats. Only the glare from mom stopped me. You know the one I’m talking about. Every mother has one. The one that says not now we’ll talk about this later at home. I just glared at mom and walked away. She knew that I would be confronting her and dad at home.

Now, I have nothing against giving Beth her shot at the big time with the contract. Hell, I’m all for it, but not for me. I don’t want to get my chance at racing F-1 under a lie. Namely, racing as a girl named Roberta Lee McGuire. I know that for the past four years thanks to the drugs that saved my life from leukemia I have taken on a very feminine appearance. It had gotten so bad that mom and dad sent me to see a shrink.

Originally it was to help me deal with the whole ‘why me?’ shit of having leukemia. When the other nasty side effects of the experimental drugs kicked in they had me keep going. I know that our next session is going to be a big one. It’s not like I hate my shrink, in fact I really do like Sharron. She hasn’t been in the field for long, so she isn’t as jaded as her more experienced counter parts. The only thing that we haven’t really come to see, eye to eye on, is how she thinks I should present myself.

Sharron has on more than one occasion suggested that I try presenting a more female appearance. To better match what the drugs were doing to my body. Well the first time she suggested that crazy assed idea I stormed out of her office. It took mom three weeks to talk me into going back to her. That was four years ago. Since then, I have been forced to accept the fact that I will always have a girlish figure and face. All thanks to those experimental drugs.

But I’ll deal with all that on Monday. Right now, I need to have a little heart to heart chat with my parents. I doubt that there will be a lot of talking though. More like me raising hell and not giving a shit one way or the other. For the past three and a half hours I have slowly been stewing in my own juices. Thankfully, none of the guys at the track called me some fucked up nickname like princess or sweet pea. All I heard was Robby, Bobby, or Speedy. Nothing girly. There might have been a snicker or two about mom and dad calling me Roberta but nothing else.

I storm pass mom and dad in the living room heading for the kitchen. I make only one stop at the refrigerator for a coke. Beth and Joey are hot on my heels. They know that I am beyond pissed off at our parents. Neither of them said one word to me during the whole ride home from the track.

I waited for mom and dad to come to me. I wasn’t about to give them the pleasure of starting this little fight. Oh hell no. they got me into this mess and they damned well, will get me out of it. First though I need to set a few ground rules.

It didn’t take long for mom and dad to realize that I wasn’t coming out of the kitchen. Dad waved for Beth and Joey to leave. While mom started off as they entered the kitchen. “Robert, we would like to talk to you about what happened today.”

“No, we don’t need to talk about what happened at the track. You just need to tell me how you are going to get me out of the mess you got me into.” I was fighting to keep my anger under control. I didn’t want this to become a shouting match.

“Rob, it is not that simple.” Dad started.

“No! It is that simple. You call up the Mercedes-Benz people. Explain to them that I am a boy, not a girl. If they want us as their new F-1 team then they accept us as we are.” I knew that I had the upper hand. They wanted our family to be their new race team, and I had the talent to force the situation.

“Wrong!” That one word from my mom stopped me cold. Mom and dad finally sat down at the other end of the table. “Robert, we know that you don’t want to hear this, but the Mercedes-Benz people already know that you’re not a girl. They don’t care, so long as you can show up and drive for them as a girl.”

“Wait! What? I don’t understand.”

Dad sighed. “Robby, it’s like those old sayings go. Appearance is everything, and first impressions are the most important.”

“Just what the hell does that have to do with me driving for those crazy assed bitches? Especially as a woman!” I snapped.

Mom sighed and took my hand. “Honey, as you know the chemo drugs that stopped the leukemia were not covered under our insurance, because of their experimental nature. The reason the drugs worked so well is because they never really left your system. They’ve been in you for the last four years, and there is no way of flushing them out. Part of the drugs makeup is certain hormones.”

“What hormones are we talking about here mom?” I was starting to get more than a little worried. When I started that drug trial they didn’t say anything about there being hormones in the drug. “Why wasn’t I told about these hormones?”

“There were three synthetic and two natural female hormones in the drug’s makeup Robby.” Dad answered for mom. “AS for why you weren’t told the answer is simple. The drug either cured your cancer completely or nothing. We saw no need to tell you about the side effects if they didn’t show up. We did it to save your life Robert. You happy now. If you have to be mad at someone for keeping you in the dark. Don’t blame your mother. I’m the one that made the decision to put you on that drug.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. My own father had known exactly what type of drug cocktail the doctors had put me on. He did it to save my life sure but I’m the one paying the price. I could feel my anger over something that has been long out of my control rising once again. Only to have mom blast me with a cold hard fact.

“Before you go blowing you top, Robert. You need to know something. Before the doctors put you on the drug they told us that you had may be five to six months left to live. The choice for us was simple. Give you a chance at some kind of life or let you die.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right along with the head of anger that I had been holding in since the track. “What you’re saying is that because of the drugs I will always look more or less like a female. That it was this or letting me die. Does that about sum things up?”

Mom and dad just nodded their heads yes. “Okay I can live with that. Now that I know the whole story. What that doesn’t explain is why are the Mercedes-Benz so hard up for me to be a member of their all woman race team? I mean I know they saw me drive today. But you said they know that I’m really a boy.”

“It all goes back to those old sayings of appearance is everything, and first impressions are the most important. How often are you mistaken for a girl when people first meet you?” Mom asked me. I didn’t even get a chance to answer. I didn’t have to. “I thought as much. I hate having to state the obvious to you.”

“Then fucking don’t mom.” I growled out through clenched teeth. “I know that I look more like a girl that I do a boy. Do I get sick and tired of correcting people? Yes. Can I do anything about? No. that doesn’t mean I have to give up on trying to be a man.”

This time it was dad that came down on me with the facts. “Rob, in the past three years you have dated only one person. Kelly Ringwald. A very out bi-sexual young lady. Do you know how many times your mother or me have been called in to speak with your Guidance Consular at school? I tell you anyway. Fifteen times in the last two years. Must of those were about you and her dating.”

“That doesn’t mean shit dad! Just because that old bat is a bible thumping redneck homophobe doesn’t mean that Kelly is a bisexual. Old Iron panties hates anybody that doesn’t fit into her neat little world view. Hell, last year she had two students expelled just because they were a biracial couple.” I knew that I was only stating the obvious to my parents.

Mrs. Eloise Carson was a known Born Again Christian fanatic of the first degree. More than one student at my high school had tried to get the bitch fired for her bigotry. The problem was the bitch always found a way to make life a living hell for those students until she could get them expelled. The woman usually used the basketball or wrestling teams to drive the ‘undesirables’ out. The only reason she hasn’t had them come after me is because of my medical history. That and the fact that I was more than willing to challenge them to a rat race. I’ve put more than a few of them into a ditch on a backcountry road.

“Damn it, Robby! All that is besides the point! We know that Carson doesn’t like you and Kelly in her school.” Dad threw up his hands. “Shit boy! We know that she doesn’t like anyone who does not fit in with her fanatical beliefs. We know she has been looking the other way when it comes to the basketball and wrestling teams’ and their bullying of LBGT students. The problem is knowing and proving. Which no one has been able to do. Too many of the other teachers are afraid of the bitch and those two coaches.”

And there was the bit in the ass. The Head Guidance Consular for my high school was basically untouchable. She was protected by the two biggest sources of income and pride for my school. Dad wasn’t done with chewing me out yet either.

“For the last five months she has been lodging complaint after complaint against you. All for the same fucking reason. Can you guess what that reason is? No? Let me fill you in.” Dad and mom must have been running interference for me big time for dad to be this worked up. I see the blood vessel over his right eye pounding in time with his heart beat. “She wants you expelled for crossdressing and transvestism on school grounds.”

“What the hell?! I’ve never worn any girl clothes to school.”

“And yet you look like a male to female transsexual in her eyes. She has been petitioning the School Board to force you to either drop out or dress in accordance with your apparent sex.” Mom blows my mind with her explanation of the facts of life for me.

“Shit. Just great. No wonder Iron Panties has been after my ass. Let me guess the other part of the equation. Either Mrs. Benz, or Mrs. Jellinek, went to the school yesterday to talk to Carson. Basically, they want to get background on me for their racing team. What they get instead is an earful of how I’m some sexual deviant and perversion in the eyes of God. Then this morning when Beth and I show up at the track they don’t see a MtF, but two young professional drivers that just happen to be women. Stop me if I’m getting too far off the track here.”

“Nope. You’ve basically nailed it, honey. The only thing that you got wrong was why they were at the school. Yes, it was for background on you, but not for the race team. They want to know if your mother and I took an active part in your education. They want to know if you, Joey, and Beth had ever shown an interest in the hard math sciences. The Mercedes-Benz Company believes in family traditions. They wanted to know if their investment in our little racing firm would be a stable one. An investment that we almost lost thanks to that idiot Tommy.” Dad snarled out that last bit. He was still pissed off over what Tommy pulled last night.

“Then they really did come here just looking to invest in our family business. What brought about the offer to sign me and Beth to their new racing team?” I asked of them both.

“Robby, they don’t want just you and Beth. They want the whole family. Mercedes and Bertha both feel though that it would be easier for you to be accepted by the general public if you raced as girl. We know that you want to race professionally Robby. The problem is something that Bertha and Mercedes pointed out very bluntly. Your appearance. We’re sorry honey, but the truth of the matter is no professional team is going to give you a chance as a boy. They will however fall all over themselves to sign you if you were a girl.” Mom gave me an apologetic smile. “A beautiful face is a bigger sales point than a scraggly beard any day.”

I knew that what mom and dad had been saying was true. The drivers may be the pull of the sport, but it was the track girls that made the sales go wild. Then there were the drivers like Danica Partick, Chrissy Wallace, Mika Duno, and Shawna Robinson, that really brought in the fans, at least for Formula One racing.

“How long do we have before they need our answer?” I didn’t have to say who they were. Mom and dad already knew.

“I talked Bertha and Mercedes into giving us until next Saturday. I figured that you would want to talk to Sharron and Kelly before making your decision Robby. Why don’t you go get a shower and change?” Mom answered quickly for me.

I just nodded my head and went up stairs to shower and change. I had a lot to think about between now and Monday morning at 4pm. That is when I have my normal bi-weekly appointment with Sharron. Thirty minutes later dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and cross trainers I grabbed my wallet, and keys. I didn’t bother to let my parents know that I was going out, or where I was going. They knew that I need space and time to think. Even as I was starting the engine to my GTO the garage door was opening.

With practiced ease I backed out of the garage and pulled onto the street in front of our house. I let the car just idle as I turned around. I could have revved the engine and popped the clutch doing a burnout like so many other teenage boys, but I love my car too much for that stupidity. I spent three of the last four years rebuilding my car to factory specs. Sure, I have made a few improvements in the engine output and handling but nothing drastic. No need to really. The 1969 blueberry black GTO J model came from the factory with a 400 CID V8 Ram Air III engine, Rally II wheels without trim rings, Hurst shifter with a unique T-shaped handle, wider tires, various decals, and a rear spoiler.

It didn’t take long before people started to stair at me and my car. I was very used to it by now. I mean when you drive a car that looks like it came out of a Fast and Furious movie you tend to draw a lot, I mean a lot, of attention. I head for the one place that I know my car won’t stand out, Billy’s Big Barn Pizza. The local teen hangout for the high schoolers on this side of town and where my girlfriend Kelly works. I double check my watch to make sure that she’ll be on shift as I pull in and park.

As I get out of my car I hear the voice of the one person that I am really not in the mood to deal with. “Hey sissy boy! When you going to sell that beautiful car to a real man?”

“I am not in the mood for your bullshit Hart.” I try to ignore the dumb son-of-bitch and head towards the door. I get about ten feet from the door when the beer bottle smashes against the wall in front of me. I turn towards Hart with blood in my eyes. “You know something Hart. I got a nice idea. If you think you’re so fucking good behind the wheel. Let’s put your car where your mouth is. Ten laps on the Lady, for pink slips. You game?”

There is was. I just throw down the challenge. Hart thought he knew how to drive. Comparted to me he didn’t know shit. The punk had no real-world racing under his belt. All he has ever done is rat race. What I just gave him was the real challenge.

Hart started to laugh at my challenge. “Yeah right! Like you would stand a chance against me on a real track like the Lady. You do alright on the streets because of all those sissy Indy cars your parents let you test out. But Darlington is a NASCAR track. Where real men go to race. If I wanted to take your car I would do on the streets. Just to make it far.”

“Hart let me explain something for you. My ticket is good for NASCAR, Formula One, Indy, Formula Renault, Endurance, Touring, Drift, and Rally racing. I busted my ass to get that ticket. You are nothing more than a showoff street racing punk with an overpowered, under balanced, top heavy, piece of jury rigged shit that you call a street racer. Now, fucking put up or shut up. Your choice fuck head!” I was done dealing with Thomas Hart. If he took the challenge, we would be heading for the track tonight. If not, he would either leave me alone or get his ass beat stupid by me.

I may be small, but when you hang around a bunch of grease monkeys and former Football players turned pit crew. You learn how to fight, and to fight nasty. I had already set my keys between my fingers. If Thomas Hart came at me, I was going to gouge his eyes out in the first swing. Before the two of us could come to blows, we were interrupted by an unexpected source.

“Hart take some advice. Get in your car and just disappear. Before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. Robby has already beaten you on the streets twice. You try to take Robby on at the Lady and he’ll roll you for your lunch money. He set a new track record today. And as good as you think you are, Robby is three times the driver you’ll ever dream of being.”

I had to shake my head as I looked over Danny Hailee. Of course, he would know about the test run today. His dad works for my parents. His dad even setup my car for that crazy damned run. I was about to shut Danny down, but he had to go and drive the nail in the coffin for Hart’s ego. One that would put an end to the flying monkeys bugging me to race them.

“By the way Hart, from what my dad was telling me earlier. Robby was offered a five-year professional contract with Mercedes-Benz as a driver, not pit crew, driver. The last time I looked those contracts pay somewhere around a million and a half per season to start for rookies. Oh, and that doesn’t include his race bonuses.” The more Danny laid out the details of my proposed contract the more I wanted to hear. I wanted to know how he even found out the details of the proposed contract.

“Danny, you want to shut up about my contract, bro?! The ink hasn’t even dried yet. You go blabbing the details to the local asshole and it will go bye-bye. Didn’t your dad teach better than to talk out of shop? You’re supposed to be a member of my pit crew you, dumbass. Start acting like it!”

“Yes boss!” Danny yelled out with a smile. “Sorry, boss! I won’t do it again, boss!”

“Oh shut up smart ass.” I couldn’t help it and started to chuckle at Danny’s antics. There were times when the big teenager could get max points for being a smartass. Danny turned to look at the very stunned Thomas Hart. “Oh, you’re still here Tommy boy. I thought I told you to disappear already. I suggest that you get while the getting is good.”

Danny popped his knuckles as Thomas got the hint and finally left. “Sorry, about letting the cat out of the bag about your contract Robby. I’m just sick and tired of that jackass’ attitude.”

“Yeah, well. You better remember to keep your yap shut about what goes on in the trailer, Danny. I won’t have a member of my pit crew blowing our strategies before a race. Understand?”

“Wait. You’re serious about me being on your pit crew?” Danny was stunned to say the least. “You really not pulling my leg?”

“Why don’t we go inside and talk Danny? You can bring Sherry with you. I know that she’ll keep her mouth shut.” I lead Danny and his long-time girlfriend inside the pizza joint and headed for a booth in back. Once we were seated I gave Danny the evil eye. “Let me start off by thanking you for handling the moron, Danny. Hart has been getting out of hand lately.”

“Shit, no biggie, Rob. I would have pounded the obnoxious ass anyway just for throwing that beer bottle.”

“No, it is a big deal Danny. That is why I want you and a few of the other guys from school on my pit crew. Guys that will have my back when shit gets squirrelly. Do think you can find enough guys to fill the bill for me?” I know that I haven’t told mom and dad that I’m going to sign the contract, but after what that asshole Hart pulled it just confirmed my decision.

“You sure that you can pick your own pit crew? I know that some of those big companies have stipulations about who you can use as mechanics and pit crew.” I could tell that Danny was more excited about this than I was. Then again, he wasn’t the one about become a traitor in the war of the sexes.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure that I can get just about whatever and whoever I want.” I took a deep breath because this is going to be the make or break point for me. “Listen Dan, I want to talk to you about something. Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

“Look, Robby, if it’s about you transitioning to be a girl you can forget about it. Nobody in school cares. We all know that you got really messed up thanks to those experimental drugs they used to fight your cancer. Hell man, the entire football team has been waiting for you to come out.” To say that I was the one who was surprised this time is an understatement.

“Um… about that. It seems that part of my contract is I have to come out of the closet as it were.” I looked down at my hands. “Let me rephrase that. There is no doubt about me having to come out of the closet. They will only sign me when I come out of the closet. The same goes for Beth. I don’t come out and they don’t sign her either.”

Sherry put her hand on top of mine. “Damn girl that sucks. We know that you and Kelly have been dating for like forever. But having to let the world know about something so personal is just fucked up. If it helps I can guaranty you that none of the cheerleaders have anything against you girls.”

I just chuckled at the way Sherry could so easily lump me in with the female population of our school. “Thanks Sherry. That means a lot to me. Do you guys think that I’ll have any problems in school if I do come out? I mean with the wrestling and basket teams. I know the football is pretty cool with the LGBT students, but Coach Stills doesn’t tolerate the bullshit on his team.”

“If you’re worried about Iron Panties and the two ass clowns there might be more than a few problems.” Danny got a thoughtful look on his face. “Let me make a few calls tonight and tomorrow. I’ll make sure to have you back cover, Robbie.”

I picked up on the slight change in my name from Robby to Robbie. I guess that I’ll have to get used to it. Come to think about more than a few of my class mates used the feminine form of my name. I just never really paid attention.

“Thanks, Danny. By the way do you think you can get me enough guys together to setup two full pit crews?”

“Wait? What? Two full crews? Are you nuts? Why aren’t you using your parents’ pit crews?” Sherry asked in confusion.

“Well that is kind of hard to explain. They need their normal guys here, so they can keep building and test new designs for different teams in the different auto-racing sports. Now do you see why we’ll need two full pit crews?” I felt like I was begging Danny.

“Um… Robbie, do they have to be all men? I mean can a few of them be girls? There are some really good athletes on the girls’ teams. Not to mention the cheer squads.” I had to give Sherry a sideways look. I had never really thought about using women on the pit crew. I know that there were teams that had female pit crew members and mechanics, but it hadn’t thought about it for myself or Beth. “What I’m asking is how many people do you need for two full pit crews? Because from the look on Danny’s face you might have a problem filling all the positions if you use only guys. But if you include the girls’ teams you would have more than triple the number to choose from.”

I had to stop and think about how many positions there were on a Formula One pit crew. Thankfully I could eliminate the fuel handlers position straight off. That left all the other positions to fill. I started working my way through the positions.

First there was the lollipop man. He holds the team's pit sign, helping the driver identify his pit stall on a possibly crowded pit road. Not one of the more glorious jobs, but one of the most important jobs. Because if you over shoot your pit you have to go around and come back in. That means lost laps, lost track position and possibly loss of the race. A lollipop man can make or break a race team at some of the faster tracks. That is why this position is normally held by the Crew Chief.

Next up are the four tire changers, one at each corner of the car, they have the sole responsibility of using a pneumatic wrench to remove the car's single locking lug nut from each tire, then reinstall it on the new tire. The tire changers are normally the smallest and nimblest members of the pit crew. They worked with the eight tire carriers, two at each corner of the car, one assigned the task of removing the old tire from the car, and one to install the new tire on it.

The next three members take care of some of the most important control surface on the car. The two Stabilizers stabilize the car at each side of the middle. The front wing men adjust the front wing angle. These three people effect the handling of the car throughout the race.

The next members are always the biggest members of the team. The front and rear jack men use simple lever-type jacks to lift the car and permit the changing of tires. The job of the front jack man is considered the most hazardous, as it requires standing directly in front of the car as it enters its pit box. By contrast, due to the location of his duties directly behind the car, the rear jack man is the only team member not in his working position before the car enters its pit box. Some teams even have two spare front and rear jack men for replacement.

The last two members do not normally go over the wall during a pit stop. They are the fire extinguisher man and starter man. The fire extinguisher man does not actually work on the car; instead, he stands ready with a hand-held fire extinguisher to put out any fires that may occur during a stop, at least long enough for the pit crew and driver to evacuate. This job became standard following Jos Verstappen's 1994 pit fire. The starter man also does not normally work on the car. His job is to stand ready with the starter tool to restart the car should the driver stall his engine during the stop.

That is a total of twenty members for each pit crew. That means I need forty people to fill out two full teams. That doesn’t count the guys and gals in the shop that build the damned cars or worked on them between qualifying and race day. I haven’t even counted in Chief mechanics and mechanics. The upside to this situation was that mom and dad would be able to cover the behind the scenes mechanics for both me and Beth. I just had to come up with forty people to man the rest of our pit crew positions.

“We’ll need total of forty people to fill out both teams. There is no way we could fill that many positions. With just the football team. Not when over half the senior starting line up are heading off to college. That leaves, what, sixteen members of the graduating class, Danny?” I asked of him.

“Not even that Robbie. Out of the graduating seniors only fourteen of us don’t have scholarships of some type.” Danny was already trying to figure out where to get thirty more people. “Unless you want to include the guys on the baseball team. That’ll give you another eight guys. It should be enough to fill out one team.”

“I know that it is none of my business, Robbie. Why are excluding the guys from the wrestling and basketball teams?” Sherry asked.

“Sherry, I know that you and the other girls on the cheer squads, and teams don’t have a problem with those two teams. Before you say that they’re nice guys think again. Coach Honeywell and Coach Kline let their teams run wild. They don’t care what kind of bullshit they pull in or out of school. There is no way that I would want any of those monkey nuts on a team with me.” Danny told her honestly. “Then there is the fact that more than a few of them cannot get passports because of their records.”

“Why would they need passports?” Sherry asked more than a little excited about the prospect that her question posed.

“Well there are twenty-one races in twenty-one countries. That’s why Sherry.” I told her then smiled. “You would happen to know eighteen athletically inclined girls that would love a chance at seeing the world, would you?”

In answer to my question Sherry just squealed and started texting on her phone. Danny gave me a look. “What are you up to Robbie?”

“It’s simple Dan. Mix and match teams. Girls and boys. The are only three positions that we need really heavy lifters on, the jacks, starters, and fire extinguisher. The rest can be filled out by average sized guys and gals. We put the smallest girls on the tire guns, and pair them up with people that can lift the tires. We use nothing but girls for the front wing and stabilizer positions. If I miss my guess Sherry is about to hand me the enter girls athletic graduating class. More than enough to fill out the rest of the needed positions on the teams.”

“We got more than enough to fill out both teams, Robbie. None of the girls got scholarships this year. Thanks to the poor performance of the guys teams. None of the College scouts were here to see us perform during games. And thanks to budget cuts the cheer squads couldn’t go to any competitions. No scouts, no competitions, no college interest in a school’s girls athletic programs. It’s that simple. You just gave the girls at this school a chance to get out of South Carolina. And maybe make something of themselves without bankrupting their families with school loans. For the next thirty years.” I had never thought about how one sports program effected the others in a high school.

Sherry must have had a better grasp of the politics than I did. That or she is smarter than she lets on. I have a feeling that it is the latter. As no matter how, hard she tires. Sherry can’t just pull off the air-headed cheer leader bit. Then again, when your parents are a lawyer and a doctor, you are kind of held to a higher standard for grades.

“Yeah guys! What’s up?” I turned to the one voice that I really wanted to hear just then. I let Kelly warp me in a tight hug before moving over for her to take a seat next to me. “Hi lover.”

“Hi yourself, sexy.” I returned her hug and kiss. I let a smile play across my face and asked sweetly. “We were just discussing the members of my new pit crew. You got any ideas?”

“Wait! What do you mean YOUR new pit crew? What pit crew are we talking about? And since when do you need a pit crew?” Kelly demanded of me.

“Me and Beth got offered Formula One contracts this afternoon as drivers. We get to pick our own pit crew members. That’s what I mean by my new pit crew. As for who the pit crew will be for, that is real simple. Mercedes-Benz Automotive International. I don’t know the full details of the contracts but let’s just say that I got them over the barrel not the other way around.”

“How the hell did you get their attention?” Kelly asked in pure stunned disbelief. “Wasn’t Tom supposed to be the one driving today for that track test?”

“Funny thing about that. It seems that it is extremely hard to drive a Formula One racer from behind bars.” I let the disgust over what Tommy had done fill my voice. Kelly and the others picked up on my anger quickly.

“Was it as bad as Dad made it out to be, Robbie?” Danny asked for the girls who didn’t know.

“It was really bad Danny. Worse than the last time he got drunk.”

“The only way it could have been worse than the last time would be if he tried to hit a cop, Rob.” Leave it to Danny to point out the obvious. To which both girls just groaned as I nodded my head. “Oh, for the love of god. Is he fucking stupid? The racing commission will pull his ticket for sure this time. What is this, his third DUI?”

“Fourth, but whose counting? All I know is that mom and dad are done with him. So is Beth. I hear her going off on him over the phone before I left the house. I think called her to try and get her to post his bail. Not that that is going to happen anytime soon. She learned, her lesson the last time.” I didn’t think my girlfriend or friends needed to know about the corporate suits getting Tommy drunk on purpose.

“Well, it’s his own damned fault. He may be my friend Rob, but he never got his head out of his ass after high school. He may be able to handle a Stock car, but he has no place behind the wheel of anything else. Especially a Formula One. Those things are death traps under normal conditions. Hell, any of the open cockpit cars are death traps in my book.” Danny shivered at the thought of driving one of my favorite types of cars. “I still don’t know how you can do it, bro.”

Kelly just smiled and snuggled in close before answering. “He’s got great big balls of brass. That’s how.”

I was about to make a sarcastic remark, but Sherry’s phone started to blow up with text messages. There must have been more than thirty answering text messages to her one text. Sherry looked up at me smiling. “I got eighteen very excited athletes ready to start training the moment you give the word Robbie.”

“Have them all report to my parents garage tomorrow after church with their parents, Sherry. The same goes for the guys Danny. I am pretty sure that my parents are going to put some stipulations on our little deal here.”

“Dress shirt and tie?” Danny asked.

I thought about it. “No. They can come in jeans and a nice shirt. No need to be all formal about shit. I won’t run my team like a damned business. Even if it is one. I want professionalism but in a friendly atmosphere. And you can pass on to everyone that my parents run a zero-tolerance shop. No drugs. No alcohol. No fighting. Period. End of line.”

Sherry and Danny both nodded their heads before getting up to leave. I knew that they would be spending the rest of the night getting with their team mates and the other less than fortunate athletes in the school. As for me, I just had to go home and tell mom and dad that they just got a new daughter. Before I did that though I had one other person to talk to, Kelly.

“Kelly, I got a question.” I took a deep breath and faced her. “How would you feel if I came out as being transgender?”

Kelly just smiled and hugged me. she pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Robbie, I have known about how your body looks under those baggy clothes for two years now. If you think letting the world look at you as a girl will make things easier for you. Then I say just do it. I’ll still love you no matter what people think.”

“Thanks babe. I needed to hear that.” I cleared my throat. “The reason I asked is part of my contract is that I basically come out of the closet. The Mercedes-Benz people think that I’m a male to female transsexual. Mom and Dad tried to explain to them that is not the case. The problem is all those damned drugs they used to kill off my cancer a few years ago.”

Kelly placed her finger over my mouth. “Hush, Robbie. Calm down and take a deep breath.” She waited for me to do as she instructed then removed her finger. Once I was calm she smiled. “Can I tell you something and you not blow your top?” I nodded my head. “Your mom called me earlier before she and your dad left the track. She explained about the contract mess and how it might be screwing with your head. I told her not to worry. If you showed up here I would look after you. I’ve already talked to John and he’s clocked me out for the rest of the day. Take me home and I’ll show you exactly how little I care about what people think.”

-----tbc-----

Chapter 3
The Offices of MRDI LLC, Darlington, South Carolina, 1100 Sunday
I drove home Kelly after getting a large ‘garbage’ pizza with a 2-liter coke to go. We spent most of the night talking about how I would be accepted at school if I showed up as a girl and answering text messages. The crazy part was when she told me that most of the kids at school already thought that I was a male to female transsexual. She pointed out that the only shitheads that would have a problem with me coming would be the homophobes on the wrestling and basketball teams. Not that I ever gave a shit about what those pud pounders thought. No, the only people that I cared about what they thought were my parents and Kelly. Well Kelly’s parents too.

I spent the night with Kelly at her house. We weren’t left in peace though. From the time that Sharron sent out that text until around nine pm, either Kelly’s or my phone was receiving text messages. Mostly from the girls that wanted to know if it was true that I was holding try outs for female pit crew members. Kelly must have answered that question twenty time or more. I had to put my foot down when the freshmen started asking to try out.

I had to send out a mass text laying down the ground rules to try out for the pit crews. The first of which was that no one under the age of 17 years and 6 months could try out. Second try outs were only open to those who were in their senior year. Thirdly you had to have enough credits to graduate early. Fourth all those trying out had to have a 3.0 grade point average. Fifth no one could try out without their parents’ permission. And lastly no one with a criminal record of any type need apply.

After I sent out that one mass text the pestering text messages dropped off to almost nothing. I knew that I was setting the bar on the high side. I needed to stop the insanity before it got to far out of hand. Besides, I already had sent requests to the people that I wanted on my pit crews. All the others were just trying to get in on the action.

I had several reasons for setting out the ground rules that I had. The first rule had to deal with the legal age to work in the pits of a Formula One race. The minimum age for pit crew members was exactly 17 years and 6 months. As much as I wanted to give the younger guys and gals a chance I couldn’t legally. I knew that this would cause problems for some people, but I couldn’t do anything about the rules or laws.

The second rule I put down was to keep the Juniors, Sophomores, and Freshmen from trying out. I know that I was being a hypocrite by putting that rule in place, but I had to keep them from dropping out. Which is exactly what most of them would do if they made the pit crew. I could drop out today and not worry about graduating. I have more than enough credits despite my three-year intermission for cancer. Mom won’t let me just sit around and feel sorry for myself during that time. She homeschooled me to keep me up with everyone else. The only reason why I wasn’t a Senior was political. The Superintendent of Schools felt that I should spend time in the other grades. Something about socialization with my peers bullshit.

Rule three was to cover not only my ass but the asses of those who would make the crews. If they wanted to graduate early they could. It was also there so I could weasel out of going back to school if old Iron Panties got out of hand. That bitch was on my shit list and was going to remain there until the day the school fired her ass, or she dropped dead.

When it came to rule four there was a very good reason for it. If you had a 3.0 grade point average, you qualified for the work study program. If the school want to push things, I would just have those that made the pit crews signup for work study. That would end all of our problems on that front.

I had two very good reasons for rule five. Firstly, I wanted everyone’s parents to know exactly what was going on. Secondly, most of these kids maybe old enough to serve in our military, but they still needed their parents’ permission to sign the contracts. Once again it was down to the legalities of the corporate world and that simple.

For the last rule I had three reasons. The first of which is if you had a criminal record you couldn’t get a passport. In a sport where you race on twenty-one different tracks in twenty-one deferent countries passports are a necessity. The second reason is it will discourage the jackasses trying to escape a juvie record by saying they’re in a respectable career. Lastly, it’ll keep the gearheads and motor monkeys from applying hoping that they can talk my parents into giving them a shoot at driving.

I know. I can hear every last one of you out there. Once again, I’m being a damned hypocrite. Well, I got news for you all. The only time I rat raced was when I had a score to settle. Even then I took every precaution to insure the safety of others on the roads. I may have put a few of the dickheads into a ditch over the years, but they could always walk away.

We fell asleep on her family’s couch sometime after eleven pm. We were both exhausted. Her from working a Saturday afternoon shift at Billy’s Big Barn. Me from the early wakeup and the test drive. That was how her parents found us the next morning a little after eight am. That was one of the things that I really liked about her mom and dad. They trusted me alone with their daughter when they were working shifts together. They usually had me come over to their house or they sent her over to my home when they were both on duty at the same time.

Oh, you’re wondering about that. It’s really simple. Kelly’s mom is a Paramedic and her dad is a Lieutenant with the Fire Department. I respect them both for the crazy shit they deal with on a day to day bases. Mrs. Ringwald usually works the track on race days. That’s where I first met Kelly. At the in-field care center. My family were at the Southern 500 two years ago when my brother being a dumbass tripped and broke his left wrist. It was Mrs. Ringwald who saw to him first before telling my mom he needed to go to the emergency room at the hospital.

Anyway, back to the Ringwald’s walking in on us. We got the usual round of grief from her parents as they woke us up. They knew that we would never break the one rule they had for when one of us stayed over. Both feet on the floor with the door open. Or in the case of us sleeping on the couch. Clothes on at all times. The occasional cuddle they had no problems with. They just weren’t ready to become grandparents, yet. Over breakfast we asked them how their shifts went and was surprised to hear that it was abnormally quiet. No fire for Mr. Ringwald and no ER runs for Mrs. Ringwald. They had actually slept in their stations for the full night.

Mr. Ringwald did ask me if it was true about mom and dad holding try outs for pit crews among the high school teens. I told him and Mrs. Ringwald what was going on and about how I got the contract to race for Mercedes-Benz. They weren’t surprised to hear that Beth and I got offered the contract. They knew how well the two of us could drive. They were only surprised that we would be offering a chance like joining our pit crews like we were. That was when I told them the truth about how that came about.

Mr. Ringwald just sat there roaring with laughter. While Mrs. Ringwald gave me a sharp look before joining her husband in his laughter. The fact I had offered to sign up forty teens to be a pit crew just to prove one asshole wrong was priceless in their eyes. Not to mention justified.

I called my parents around nine am to let them know what was going on and to have them meet me at the family garage around noon. Only to have mom tell me that Beth and Joey had already filled them in. It seems that word had spread much faster than I expected last night. Mostly because of Beth’s and Joey’s friends texting or calling them to find out why they hadn’t been asked to join the pit crews. Thank the good Lord above, Beth had a ready-made answer for her friends and Joey’s. She just told them that I was the one that controlled what happened with the contract. In other words, she blamed me for not inviting their friends.

Thankfully, mom got onto Beth about putting all the blame on me. When mom showed Beth the five rules that I had sent out by text Beth and Joey both shut up. Mom also reminded Beth and Joey that the contract hinged upon me signing, not Beth. I was the one that Mercedes-Benz wanted the most. I knew that sooner or later that small fact was going to come back to bight me in the ass.

Anyway, I told mom about setting up the meeting with the parents and kids over at the garage at 1300. Mom said that was a good idea and she would take care of the rest. Mom also told me that I needed to be at the shop by eleven to sign the contract and to dress accordingly. When I asked her what she meant her answer almost through me for a loop.

I knew that I would need help in a major way. So, I asked Kelly to help me get ready for my grand reveal at the meeting. Kelly may be bisexual, but she was by no means a tomboy. She is one of the biggest girly-girls that I know. So, I know that she’ll help me dress in such a way as to prove the very important point that I need to this morning and afternoon.

After making a fast run down to the local Wally-world for panties, bra, hose, make-up, shoes, and a long-sleeved dress Kelly gave me my first ever makeover. I almost cried as I watched what little body hair I had wash down the drain. Not that I had much. Like I said before, the chemo really screwed with my body. One of the many things it messed with was my body hair. What was removed by the Nair was two years’ worth of growth. Yet, it had to be done. Because at eleven am today, Roberta Lee McGuire was making her grand debut and damned the torpedoes full steam ahead.

With less than thirty minutes before I needed to meet my parents at the shop Kelly pronounced me fit for viewing. I wasn’t too thrilled with the whole girly-girl look but I was able to talk Kelly out of high heels. I just wasn’t up to wearing those just yet. I know that there will be a time when I’ll have too but not today. Besides, I was the one driving. Kelly felt it would be best that, for the first time that I wore high heels, I shouldn’t be the one to drive. As she explained it to me there was an art to driving in heels. I may be hot behind the wheel but there is no way I’m trying that on my first official day as a girl.

As we pulled into the parking lot for my parents shop I recognize the cars for our family lawyers. I have to laugh at the law firm we use. For three of the meanest lawyers in a courtroom Bill, Dan, and Jacob don’t take themselves too seriously. Kelly gave me a strange look. “What’re your parents’ lawyers doing here?”

“Most likely to go over the contract before either Beth or I sign. Knowing dad, he called them as soon as I got off the phone with mom. I won’t put it past him to have the Mercedes-Benz people running in circles by now.”

“Well, I hope they can get things sorted out before everyone else shows up at two o’clock.” Kelly let her concern fill her voice. “I know that you want this contract bad Robbie, but I’m worried about the part where they are basically forcing you to come out.”

“You’re not the only one worried over that part, love. It’s not like it’s a nonissue though. I mean how many times do we get grief for holdings hands in public? I’ll answer that for you. TOO fucking many times. Most people don’t know my medical history. All they see is two very pretty girls in a lesbian relationship.” I didn’t want to tell her what mom and dad had told about Mrs. Carson.

I think if she knew about Carson’s personal campaign to run us out of school Kelly would shoot the woman. She picked up on me hiding something from her. “Okay, Robbie. What are you keeping from me? Don’t try to say that you’re not either. You suck at lying.”

“Fine. Carson has made us her new personal crusade for the Moral Majority in Darlington, South Carolina. You don’t even want to know what the bitch has been trying to pull with the schoolboard concerning me. Let alone us. Dad has been running a massive interference campaign with the board and that bitch.”

Kelly stared at me in total disbelief. “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME?! What is that bitch’s beef with us?”

I just pointed at my chest. “Me. She keeps trying to force the issue of my appearance as grounds for my expulsion. She has claimed that I have repeatedly shown up at school in the dress of the opposite sex. Namely that of a boy. She keeps saying that I have engaged in crossdressing and blatant transvestism on school grounds. While engaging in an open lesbian relationship with you.”

“HOLY SHIT! Why haven’t my parents been informed of this?”

“Because my parents have been fighting Iron Panties for us both. As much as I would love to put that old bitch in her place it won’t happen anytime soon. She is just too well protected by the basketball and wrestling coaches. Not to mention that bigoted asshole Dr. Stone. I still can’t figure out how that man got elected as to Superintendent.” I groused.

“He paid off the election officials to stuff the ballot box. That’s how.” Kelly snarked. “Come on love. We’ve kept your loving public waiting long enough for you to make a grand entrance.”

Taking a deep breath, I opened my door and slid out the way Kelly taught me before leaving her house. It was with slow measure steps that I led the way to the front door of McGuire Racing Designs Incorporated LLC. I found the door unlocked and let Kelly go ahead of me as I held the door open.

The first person to see me was Mrs. Benz. “Mein Gott! Sie ist schöner als ich Träume Sie sein könnte!”

“What are you talking…” Karl Benz had just turned around getting his first good look at me. “Mein Gott! Du hattest Recht, Bertha. Sie macht ein schönes Mädchen.”

I was getting lost with the German that was being thrown around and starting to feel extremely embarrassed. I wanted to hug Sharron’s dad when he jumped my rescue. “Ladies and gentlemen, while I do speak Dutch fluently the others may not. Can I suggest that we use only English?”

“Ja Herr Dewey. You are correct. It is impolite to speak in a language that others may not understand in mixed company.” Mr. Benz said with a slight bow at the waist. He then turned back to me and took my right hand bowing over to kiss the back of it. “It is a pleasure to meet you Frauline. Meine Frau, was telling me that you were very pretty at the race track. Now that I see you in person I must say that meine Frau was wrong. You are but a raving beauty ready to blossem on the world’s stage of Formula 1 racing by storm.“

“I don’t know about that sir. I just want to drive fast, and any race car will do.” I answered truthfully. My response got a round of laughter from the adults with the exception of my parents and Mr. Daimler. They knew that I wasn’t joking around.

“Jewels, Robert, I will be honest with you. When you said that your youngest daughter lived to race yesterday I thought you were joking. Now, that I have met her. I must revise my opinion.” Daimler said looking me in the eye.

“And what would you say now, Gottlieb?” dad asked him coldly.

“That the young lady will be one of the greats. She just needs the right car to prove it. My question is are we the right fit for her? After all, we all know that she is not really a girl. Can she spend the rest of life as a woman in the eyes of the world? Does she have the needed strength to pull it off?” the man was pissing me off more and more with his questioning of my character. He reminded me of Iron Panties.

“You know something dad. We don’t need this fucking contract.” I looked over at mom. “Mom call the parents and tell them the meeting is on hold.” I turn back and look in Dailmer’s eyes. “I’m sure we can sell the power planets and cars to either Renault, Audi, BMW, Rolls Royce, or hell even Toyota.”

Daimler busted outed laughing. “Very good young lady. You have fire in your belly and passion in your heart. You will drive for our new racing team. You have my vote. You just have to win over that old bastard over there with the stone face.” The man Daimler pointed to had yet to say anything but I knew who he was.

“Well Herr Maybach? What is your challenge?” The man just chuckled and took my right hand before bowing over it with a kiss.

“Young Lady my only concern is where to get two full pit crews for you on such short notice? One for your sister and one for you. If you can come up with answer to that then you can walk on water.”

“I don’t know about walking on water, but I can get two full pit crews here by fourteen hundred.” I snarked at his look of disbelief. “What the good Lord would do with fish, I shall do with a simple text message.”

“What are you up to Roberta?” Dad asked with a sly yet knowing smile. I could tell that mom had filled him in on what I had done yesterday evening. Not to mention what was going to happen later.

“Simple dad. Herr Maybach wants to know where we’re going to get two full pit crews. I’m going to show him.” I pulled out my phone and sent a message to all the kids that I had offered positions to last night. “Herr Maybach, if you care to stay for a meeting later on today. I’ll introduce you to our pit crews.”

“Young lady, I would love to see this miracle of organization that you have yet to perform.” He turned to the other members of the Mercedes-Benz party. “She has my vote. Shall we sign the contracts? I see no reason to wait any longer.”

Until now my parents’ lawyer had stayed out of things. As one they each pulled out six copies of the contracts. Beth being the oldest signed her contracts first. Then the Mercedes-Benz people signed their names below hers. Then mom and dad stepped up and sign their contracts with Mercedes-Benz. I was the last to sign a contract. I had put off signing until last just in case I needed to stick in my own stipulations. Thankfully the Mercedes-Benz people went along with what I wanted. They had even put in a clause where I had to find my own pit crew.

The only clause in the contract I had any problems with was the one concerning my appearance. It stated very clearly that I was to present a proper feminine appearance at all times. With the exception for when I was driving. The way it was worded I would have sworn they want me more for a model than as a driver. There was even a part that said they would reimburse me for any expenses incurred to promote that image. Another part said that Beth and I would be supplied with a Style Consultant.

Once all the contracts were signed Sharron’s dad handed me another set of documents to sign. I quickly read them over and realized that they were a petition for legal name change. I looked over at dad and mom before turning back to Mr. Howe. He quickly explained.

“Your parents called me yesterday afternoon after they were offered the contracts. I warned them of the legal problems and advised them of what would be your best course of action Robbie. I also read over your contract with Mr. Cheatem, and Mr. Dewey. Legally your contract and Beth’s are entertainment contracts. So, they can basically dictate how you kids look at all times.”

“We know sir. I kind of figured that out on my own when they wanted me to drive for them as a girl. I was pretty sure they would work that into my contract somewhere. I wasn’t sure they would set the same conditions for Beth though.” I knew that I had just signed away my life for the next five years, but I really didn’t care. I had my dream in my hands now. Nobody was going to take that away from me. If they tried, they would have to pry it from my cold dead fingers over my cold dead body.

I wanted to shake Mr. Howe’s hand for all the work he had done on mine and Beth’s behalf. Personally, I always had to laugh at the name of the law firm Mr. Howe worked for. I mean come on who wouldn’t get a laugh out of a law firm named, Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe. They may be some of the best lawyers in South Carolina and Pitbull’s in a courtroom, but they never took themselves too seriously.

I looked over at a box that was sitting on the floor by Mr. Cheatem. “What’s in the box Mr. Cheatem?”

“Those are fifty blank pit crew contracts waiting for names and signatures, Robbie. Before you ask, your mother got us on those the same time she had us going over yours and Beth’s contracts. She wanted us to be ready for whatever you pulled today. By the way, just what are you up to young lady?”

I know that I need to get used to the young lady bit, but it’s going to take time. I wanted to pound Joey when he sniggered at hearing me called young lady. And me not being able to do anything about it. For the next five years people would only see a pretty girl who could drive a Formula One racer.

“Mr. Cheatem, let’s just say that you, Mr. Howe, and Mr. Dewey will need to keep an open mind this afternoon. Especially when your daughters show up with their boyfriends.” Beth told him just before she started to giggle. “Robbie went way outside the box to get us two full pit crews on such a short notice. Hell, I don’t think anyone would have thought of what she did. I still want to know where she came up with the idea. Because it is totally off the chain.”

“You can thank that dumbass Thomas Hart for the idea. Well him and Danny Hailee.” Kelly told them.

“What is wrong with that boy? I’ve represented him four times in juvenile court for numerous screwups. If he breaks the law again the judge will throw the damned library at him, not just the book.” Mr. Dewey said to no one in particular.

About that time there was a knock at the front door. I smiled. “Looks like my pit crew recruits are showing up early.”

The adults all looked at me strangely as I went to the front door and let in the first group of teens with their parents. Over the next twenty-minutes I must have returned to the front door four more times letting in teenagers with their parents. Beth took charge of the teen boys and had them setting up folding chairs in garage bay number one. By the time everyone had arrived there was forty teenagers and almost eighty adults in the bay.

More than one of the parents was giving me questioning looks. They couldn’t place me but more than half of them did recognize me. the girls were all over me as they got their first good look at me as a girl. The guys on the other hand were giving me a wide berth for now. Not really knowing how to deal with one of their number suddenly jumping the great gender dive. And looking good while I did it. There were a few exceptions among the guys though.

Like Danny Hailee, Jose Chamberlin, Will Hackney, and Greg Smokes. Or as they are known around school, the Four Horsemen. You rarely saw one without the other three. They went almost everywhere together. Only when they were with their girlfriends on solo dates were they alone. They were also the four biggest members of the football team’s defensive line. I smiled as their parents just smiled at me as they took their seats. In their eyes I was giving their sons a second chance at getting out of South Carolina.

Until last night I hadn’t realized just how much one sport could affect the other athletic departments within a school. I smiled at the looks of confusion that had slowly crossed the faces of the Mercedes-Benz people first. I let my smile grow even wider as the daughters of Mr. Dewey, Mr. Cheatem, and Mr. Howe walked in with their mothers. Cassy, Sharron, and Charlotte were the big three in the cheerleader squads.

I was a little surprised to see Kathy Hall and her mother show up. Coach Hall was more than just the girls PE teacher. She was the Head Coach for the cheerleaders and girls swim team. The woman is known to be a real hard ass among the girls in her PE classes. Of all the female athletes I figured that the daughter of the Cheer Coach would have a scholarship to go somewhere. Then I remembered what Sharron said last night. No scouts no scholarships.

The next person to show up was definitely the last person in all of Darlington County I expected to see. He was also the one person I would kill to have on my pit crew and I didn’t even invite him and his dad. Tony ‘the tiger’ Towers, all state Junior MMA champion, and his father Ivan ‘the terror’ Towers retired MMA heavy weight. The rumors around school was that Tony had been trained by his dad form the time he was ten in MMA. Tony was also the same age as Beth and two years older than me.

“Um… hi Tony. Can I help you?”

“I heard that you were holding tryouts for pit crews. I thought that I would give it a shot. If you’ll let me that is?”

“Sure, why don’t you and your dad have seat with the others. We’ll be starting the meeting in a few minutes.” I told him. Then watched as he and his father walked over and joined the others.

“Was that Tony Towers and his dad?” Joey asked me.

“It sure as hell wasn’t Lady Gaga and her band.” I turned to look Joey in the eye. “Finish setting up, Joey. I have to let our parents know that we got a full house.”

“Sure thing, bro.” Joey said with a smile.

“Look Joey, I know this is going to be weird, but you need to start thinking of me as your sister. No more bro or Rob. From now on it’s got to be Robbie, Roberta, or sis. Got it?”

Joey was a good kid and a smart one too. He understood immediately what I was driving at. “Sure, thing sis.”

I found mom and dad talking with Mr. and Judge Keller. Yeah, you heard right. Mr. Keller’s wife, is the right honorable Judge Eloise Keller. The one judge in Darlington County that no double dealing cheating husband wants to see. The woman wasn’t known for showing mercy on spouses that cheat. She also was known for her no nonsense point of views on equal rights. I could tell right away that they were discussing my name change and contract.

“Excuse me your Honor, but the meeting going to start now.” I know I was interrupting but I want to get this show on the road. Besides, the Kellers had to know why they were here today.

“Thank you, dear. We’ll be right there.” Judge Keller gave me a smile. “We were just going over my schedule. I’m looking forward to seeing you in court on Thursday. I’m sorry I can’t get you in sooner, but I have several cases that have been on continuance for weeks now. Mr. Howe has explained the circumstance for the sudden need for a name change. Though I am not exactly happy with the conditions of your contract, I do understand the necessity behind them and I applaud your maturity and bravery in facing them.”

“Well, I’ll be honest if I want to be a professional driver then I have to face facts. Like the old saying goes. If it walks like duck, quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck. Dressing and living as a woman is me just accepting what everyone else sees me as, a woman. I know how I look. If I want to be respected and accepted I need to grow up and accept facts.”

“That is very commendable Roberta. If there are any legal questions raised during this meeting. Just refer them to me. Unlike those three shysters your parent hired. I can give you all the free legal consul you can handle.” The judge smirked.

“Now wait one damned minute, here, Eloise. We’re a reputable firm.” Mr. Cheatem huffed. “We only triple bill those overindulged country club butt buddies of yours.”

The adults just laughed at the off-colored humor as I led them over to the garage bay. I waited until everyone had taken their seats before beginning. I knew that I was about to make a lot of these parents and teenagers very happy.

“Seeing as how everyone is here early I would like to go ahead and get started.” I waited until it quieted down before starting. “As most of you have already heard. Yesterday, both my sister Beth and I were offered contracts by Mercedes-Benz as Formula one drivers. This morning we finalized those contracts in this very building. Part of those contracts is we get to pick our own pit crews. That is where your children come in.”

One of the fathers stood up and interrupted me. “Excuse me, Rob. But before you go too far could you clarify a point of contention among us all.” I knew what was coming so just nodded my head. “Do you wish to be referred to in the masculine or feminine?”

“I believe that I should answer that Roberta.” Everyone turned to look at Judge Keller. “As of this morning when Roberta signed her contract she took on the professional moniker of Roberta Lee McGuire. In accordance with the laws of this State Miss. McGuire had filed for a legal change of name and sexual identity. Does that answer your question Mr. Moore?”

“Thank you, Judge Keller. That does help out a good deal.” Moore looked back at me. “Please, continue Robbie?”

“No problem, Mr. Moore. I understand why you asked. I mean for the last eighteen years I have never shown any interest in dressing as a girl. Then I show up this morning out of the blue in hose, makeup, and a dress. So, yeah I can understand the confusion you and the other adults are feeling right now.”

“Um… Roberta, dear. Why have you decided to come out? Couldn’t you have driven as a young man?” asked Coach Hall.

“Let’s be honest here Coach. Do you really think I would ever get sponsors looking the way that I do and trying to pass myself off as a man? The answer to that is not a chance in hell. And that is what drives any sport. Sponsors. Sponsors bring in the big money and with that money comes more sponsors. More sponsors equals more money. No sponsor is going to back a female looking guy.”

“She does have point Lisa. We all know that sponsors drive auto racing. Look at how many times a NASCAR team has gone under after they lost their sponsor. The same has to be said for Formula One.” Dan Smokes, Greg’s father said from where he sat. “Please continue Robbie? Or due you prefer some other name?”

“Um… no Robbie is fine for now, Mr. Smokes. To be honest I haven’t given much thought about how I want to be addressed. I mean Robert and Roberta can both be call Robby, Robbie, Bobby, or Bobbie.” I looked over at Danny who started to chuckle at something.

“You can call me Ray or you call me Jay. You can call me Ray Jay, or Jay Ray.” Danny called out to let me know what was tickling his funny bone. Which naturally got the others in the room laughing at the joke that was so old. It was mummified.

“Thanks Danny. I’ll remember that as I pull in for our first pit practice.” I gave him a smile. “I’ll take extra care to not run over your toes.” Which just got everyone laughing all the harder.

Once everyone was again quieted down I got back on topic. “Now for the reason I’ve asked you all here today. I know that most of the kids in this room will not be going onto college after graduation for one reason or another.”

“Excuse me, Bobbie Lee.” I looked over at me dad crossly, but I was his child and he had the right to call me what he wanted. “You want to explain that crack about these kids not going to college. And how you came to that conclusion. After all that is a very private matter between families.”

“I ran into Sharron and Danny at Billy’s Big Barn last night. We got to talking about the contract offer and where I could find forty people to fill out all the positions. I had already offered a slot to Danny and asked him if he knew of any other guys at school who would fit the bill. He said yes, but there wouldn’t be enough for two full teams. That’s when Sharron suggested that we use the senior girls from our school.”

“So that’s why all the girls are here. You used an end run to fill out your needed positions!” Coach Hall crowed. “It may not be a grand win for women’s equal rights Robbie, but I salute your ingenuity for finding an answer. Where all anyone else would see is unrealized athletic talent.”

“What are you getting at Coach Hall? We got fourteen football players, eight baseball players, seven cheerleaders, five volleyball players, and six long distance runners from the girls track team. I get the boys being here. I can even see the girls track team members. But volleyball and cheerleaders. You have totally lost me now. Besides, shouldn’t these kids be going to some college, somewhere?” Dad asked her bluntly.

Only to have Sharron stand up and the question. “That’s where you’re wrong Mr. McGuire. All of us here are not going to any college. Simply because none of us can afford to pay out of our own pockets for the chance. Nobody here has an athletic scholarship thanks to the scouts avoiding our school. None of us have the grade point average to nail down scholastic scholarship, despite most of us being three-point-oh students. All of our parents either make too much or not enough money to qualify for government sponsored student aid, loans, or scholarships. To be blunt Mr. McGuire, unless you have some other away for all us to earn between one to four-hundred-thousand for a four-year degree, or three to six hundred-thousand for anything over a Bachelor degrees then Robbie’s offers are a dream come true.”

“Speaking of college scouts avoiding our school. Does anyone here know why that shit happened?” Asked Phil Chamberlin while pointed looking at Coach Hall.

“You can thank those thugs you’re so proud of Phillip.” Coach Hall snapped. “That’s right I’m placing the blame where it belongs. At the feet of the basketball and wrestling teams and their coaches. Those two teams have produced some of the biggest trouble makers in whatever college they attended in the last two years.”

“What does that have to do with the college scouts avoiding our kids’ school and the other teams there?” Mr. Chamberlin snapped.

I had, had enough of his shit and snapped. “Because no college wants to take a chance on any athlete that can be a potential pain in the ass embarrassment Mr. Chamberlin. I won’t even go into the number of complains that have been filed by students concerning bullying by the members of those two teams. That’s why none of them are here. Because I fucking well won’t give the chance of a life time to a pack of backstabbing thugs. Now, you want to get over yourself, and let me finish giving your son a chance at seeing the world? Or do you want to continue to bitch?”

Phillip Chamberlin sat down and shut up. He knew when he was in the wrong. Sometimes he had to have the truth pointed out to him. Yet when he did he always backed the truth. No matter how painful.

“The other reason I asked for just these people to be here is simple. All of the students here can meet my requirements to be a member of mine and Beth’s pit crews.” I was interrupted again, but by a different parent this time. “Yes, Mrs. Hanson, you have a question?”

“Yes, I do, Roberta. It is about these requirements. Just exactly what are they? And what are the reasons behind them?”

“I’ll answer that one for Roberta.” Dad said as he walked over to stand in front of the parents and teens. “I will be honest and tell you now that I have only just read the requirements that Bobbie has put in place. Requirements that her mother and I would have put in place ourselves if she hadn’t Caroline.”

“Oh my! She must have really set the bar high then.” Caroline Hanson gasped out. “May we still know them please?”

“First off no one under the age of 17 years and 6 months could try out. Second those who were in their senior year. Third have enough credits to graduate early. Fourth everyone has to have a 3.0 grade point average. Fifth no one can be here without their parents’ permission. And lastly no criminal records. As for our reason behind these requirements they should be self-explanatory.” When dad finished he walked back over where mom was standing.

“I’m sorry, Robert, but I need a little more information.” Judge Keller said from her place next to her daughter and son. The Keller twins Stacy and Steve.

“The first one has to deal with the age requirement for Formula One pit crews. FIA has decried that no one under the age of seventeen years and six months can be part of a pit crew. The minimum for drivers is eighteen.” I answered Judge Keller. Taking each point one at a time for her. I had an idea that she was doing this for more than just her personal education.

“The second and third requirements revolve around what can be a very touchy situation with the schoolboard. If you’re a senior and you have enough credits to graduate. It doesn’t matter how many class you are currently carrying. You can enroll in the work study program. I am pretty sure that everybody here is now eligible for work study and can graduate early with no notice.” I watched as more than thirty heads nodded as one.

“The fourth requirement of having to carry a three-point-oh gp is simple. It give them a backdoor into the work study program. And as they will all be employed by an International racing team. They can do their school work on-line under the homeschool guidelines when we have to be outside of the country.” When I started explaining my reasons behind the requirements I saw more than one parent pulling out pad and pen. Now, all of them were taking notes and fallowing my every word.

“While a good many of the kids here are over eighteen. I didn’t feel right about just allowing them to sign a contract that could take them to a foreign country without your knowledge. I remember how my Uncle Bud’s signing up with the US Army upset grandma and grandpa. He just went in one day signed up then disappeared for five months. Only coming home after he completed Basic and AIT. He really scared my grandparents. I won’t let that happen here.” I could see from the looks on the faces of more than a few parents that they were happy I did put that requirement in place.

“The last requirement is because this is an International sport. It’s extremely hard to get a passport with a criminal record. Even if it is a juvie record.” I looked over at Judge Keller to back me up on this point. She didn’t even hesitate.

“Although it can be difficult to obtain a passport for a convicted felon, it is not impossible. Whether a convicted felon can obtain a United States passport will depend on the felony that was committed. There are some automatic disqualifications to obtaining a passport if you are a convicted felon such as convicted international drug trafficking. Other issues such as owing 5,000 dollars or more in child support or loans could disqualify someone from obtaining a passport as well. However, when it comes to juvenile offenders there are only two automatic disqualifiers. The first is any drug conviction for possession with intent to distribute. And murder is the second. There may be other disqualifiers with the new immigrations laws though. So, you’ll have to double check my facts. I hope that answers your question Robbie?” Judge Keller said after she stood.

“Yes, ma’am. It does. And thank you, for that clarification.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “As you can see I have set down some rather steep requirements for our pit crews. Are there any more questions? If not Mr.’s Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe, have the contracts for your children ready to sign. Those not eighteen will need their parents to sign also. I’ll let you talk amongst yourselves over the decision to sign.”

I walked back over to where my family was standing with the people from Mercedes-Benz. Mom gave me a smile then a hug. “You did good honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“I don’t know how many we’ll get yet mom. Some of the parents may not let or want their kids to sign.” I had to be honest with them. I wasn’t about to get their hopes. As it is we may still have to go to outside sources for pit crew members.

“Young lady, I doubt that will be a problem. Turn around and look.” Mrs. Benz said with a smile. So, I did. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement of facts. A line had already formed at the table being used by our family lawyers. They each had one teen with one parent standing in front of them as they went over the contracts. “I doubt that you will have a problem filling out your pit crews. Now, for the hard part. We need to do is line up sponsorship for you and your sister.”

“No, ma’am. This was the easy part. The hard part will come tomorrow morning and facing down the school administration. I got a feeling that there will be at least one potential skunk in the woodpile.”

“Well, we are not due to fly out for another seven days Roberta. If this Headmaster of yours wishes to cause problems. I am quite sure that OUR lawyers and with your parents’ lawyers can sort things out. After all you have done nothing wrong, and neither have these other youngsters.” I listened closely to Mrs. Jellinek. She may not have said as much but you would have to be a fool to not hear the threat in her words. For some reason I had this strange feeling that this was one woman you did not play games with lightly. She was a Great White shark in a gold fish pound.

-----tbc-----

Chapter 4
Beauregard Smith High School, Darlington, Sc, Monday, 0730
I didn’t waste anytime this morning after parking my car. The second my foot hit the doorway to B.S. high school I headed straight for the Principles office. I just knew that if I didn’t give Mr. Corely a heads up about what was about to happen. He would have my ass. To be honest with you I wouldn’t blame him one bit for being pissed off at me. Besides the guy may be a pain in my ass but he always backed the students if they were in the right including me. Even going up against that bitch Carson.

It took more than three hours last night to explain the problem with Carson and my school to the Mercedes-Benz people. The main problem for their understanding was how such a close-minded person could hold a position of authority over children. Mom had explained that Carson had tenure and was basically doing nothing more than looking the other way for the bullies. It took me laying it all out for them to understand. Once they did the Mercedes-Benz people got this very far off look in their eyes. Before they left Mr. Benz just said that if any of us should have problems have the school call a number on the back of his business card. Then he made sure we all had one. I knew that the phone number on the back of that went straight to MBI Headquarters and their Lawyers there.

Right now, my mind was on what was about to happen in the school’s main office. Forty of the school’s top athletes were going to be walking in shortly to sign up for the work study program. And it was ALL my fault. I had figured that most of the guys and gals that had shown up at the garage yesterday would be ineligible for the program. Boy was I ever wrong. Coach Hall had stood off to one side talking to parents and students making sure that each teen was eligible for the work study.

I was more than a little surprised by this and when I questioned her on it she just smiled. She explained that thanks to her, and the Coaches for the other sports that the standard grade point average to compete had been raised to 3.0 for most athletics. With the exception of the basketball and wrestling teams. Coach Hall was just making sure that everyone had the needed credits to enter the work study program. If not, she was giving advice on how to work around the problem to each parent and student. She really did care for the students’ education over athletic achievements.

I had no sooner entered the main office hallway than I was brought up short. There stood a line of students waiting to enter the office. To be more precise, my pit crews lined the hallway waiting to enter. I was already too late. With nothing more to do than face the music I squared my shoulders and marched to the front of the line. I entered ahead of Bill Casey who held open the door for me. He gave me a smile as I passed him saying. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more or close the wall up with our redneck dead. Uh Bobbie?”

I have to give to William ‘Bill’ Casey. For a squared away baseball player and all-round decent guy. He could come up with a perfect one-liner to fit just about every situation. His crack with the reference from Shakespeare’s Henry the fifth made me take a stutter step and then chuckle. The fact that he had no problem with calling himself, and the others, a redneck just went to his wicked sense of humor. This was one time that I had to give him full marks for timing and content. I stepped back outside the office to talk with him before dealing with the insanity inside.

“Nice one, Bill. Any idea of how bad it has gotten?” I asked him.

“Corely is out of the office. Iron Panties is throwing a bitch fit over so many of us wanting to enroll in work study. She has Hall in there trying to force play some kind of bullshit. And she is saying that our contracts are worthless on the grounds of false employment. She’s saying that there is no way you can hire us as yours or Beth’s pit crew.”

“Fuck. I knew that bitch would try something but not this. Has Carson called the police?” I really needed to know if she had.

“Don’t know, but she has already thrown the copies of our contracts in the trash. Saying that it’s all some con job you’re trying to pull.” I could tell that Bill was holding something back.

“What else did she say about my contract or yours?” I demanded as I pulled out my phone. “I need to know exactly.”

“Carson said that there was no way in hell that a professional racing team would hire a crossdressing freak like Robert McGuire.” Kelly Hall said from her place in the line on the other side of the hall. “She pulled mom in the second we walked through the door this morning.”

“Thanks, Kathy. You guys just stand by and let me handle the Cast Iron Bitch.” I turned and walked back outside dialing mom and dad. My call was answered on the second ring. “Mom, you’re right. Carson is pulling some kind of bullshit to block or screw the pit crews. I don’t know where Principle Corely is other than out of the office. Basically, leaving Carson in charge.”

“We’re right around the corner like we planned Robbie. Mr. Howe, and Mr. Cheatem will be right behind us. Just go back inside to the main office like you’re supposed to and keep your phone on. Place it your shirt pocket. We’ll be listening in on everything. As well our lawyers.”

“Yes, ma’am. Are we finally going to put that bitch in her place?” I was really hoping that mom gave me the go ahead.

“One way or another Robbie. Now, get in there, but don’t push things. Let her do all the talking. Understood?”

I just smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Load and clear. Taking turn three low and going high for four.”

Mom laughed at my reference to my last lap on the Lady in Black. I put my phone in my shirt pocket, squared my shoulders, and headed back inside. I walked past everyone again to the main office door. This time when I got to the door Bill just opened it without any smartassed remarks. Just as Bill had allotted to, Carson was in full-blown bitch mood. I hadn’t even got five-feet into the main office area before she dropped her sights on me.

“There’s the little trouble maker now. In my office McGuire. Miss. Benchley call the police.” I didn’t say anything to her. I just went into Carson’s private office. She was hot on my heels pulling the door closed behind her. “You have finally messed up enough that I get to expel you McGuire. This little con job of yours is going to land you in jail.”

“What con job are you talking about Mrs. Carson? Would you please care to expand on this accusation? I for one would love to hear your reasoning for this unfounded charge of fraudulent activity.” I know that I was throwing around a butt load of legal terms, but I wanted my lawyers to have all the legal ammo they needed to put this bitch in her place. Hopefully I can get her to show herself for the bigot that she is. I knew that Mr. Howe and Mr. Cheatem were recording this phone call in their office.

My little jab at her making false accusations was just enough to push her over the edge into a full-blown anger induced hissy fit. “Look you little freak. I know for a fact that no reputable racing firm would hire a sissified little fagot like you. Those so-called contracts that you have used to try and fool those other students with are all the grounds I need to prove fraud. When the cops get here I’ll press the precise charges and have you hauled off to juvie. I finally get to have your fairy little swishy ass thrown out of my school once and for all.”

“I always knew that you were a bigoted asshole Carson. I just didn’t realize how big of a bigot you really are, until now. And your accusations of me committing fraud are as false as they come. For your information I was indeed signed to a professional racing firm. Those contracts are legal in every way. If you doubt me just keep pushing. My lawyers will be here in just a few minutes. They should be walking through the doors any minute now.”

“Nice try McGuire. You’ve been in here since you walked through the door. I know for a fact that you haven’t had a chance to call in your parents. By the time you get the chance to call them you’ll already be in central processing. Before they can arrange for your bail I’ll have you expelled. I win you sorry excuse for human waste.” Carson sat back in her chair with a look of triumph on her smug face.

“I won’t be the one that gets arrested Carson. In fact, I doubt that I will be going anywhere. You on the other hand will be facing a shit ton of legal issues thanks to your little bigoted tirade.” I had the bitch and knew she was done. Stick the fork in and slice up the breast done. Her goose was cooked. She just didn’t know it yet.

Carson just smirked. “Good luck on proving your false accusations McGuire. I have more than enough paperwork to back my charges against you. Before this morning is over, either way, you’re done here at this school. You’ll be in lock up waiting to see a judge in an hour. By the time you get out I’ll have you expelled and your charges will amount to nothing more than the hate filled rates of a disappointing failure. Like I said McGuire I win.” There was a knock on the door to Carson’s office door. “Enter.”

When the door opened two police officers entered the office. Carson didn’t look behind them like I had. She just started giving orders. “Officers I want this person arrested for attempt to defraud a public office with intent to steal. The school will be pressing further charges once we have had a chance to consult our legal counselors.”

When they didn’t move to arrest me but stand before her desk Carson almost snapped. “Well, what are you waiting for? Do your duty.”

“Mrs. Carson, the only person who is facing criminal charges here is you.” One of the officers told her. “As why we’re not putting you in cuffs we’re merely waiting for Miss. McGuire’s legal representatives to arrive.”

“What do you mean Miss. McGuire? That thing is no more a girl than the man in the moon. AS for HIM having legal representation that is nothing more than a bald-faced lie. Arrest the deviant and get it out of my school.” The madder Carson got over the cops not arresting me the more charges that were being piled up against her.

“Officers have you informed Mrs. Carson of the charges against her yet?” Mr. Cheatem asked as he entered the officer. “If not please proceed with her arrest. My partners have been recording the conversation between our client and Mrs. Carson.” He looked over at me. “Roberta, you can hang up your phone now and join your parents in the outer office.”

I quickly followed his orders and stepped out of Carson’s office. The police officers closed the door behind me. I guess they didn’t want a student to see the wicked bitch of the east get what’s coming to her. I wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Howe standing in the office area with another man in a suit and tie. I was starting to get worried until they shook hands.

“Ah here is the heroine of the hour. Robbie allow me to introduce D.A. Steve Cook. Steve, Roberta McGuire, Formula One’s newest and brightest racing star. Also, the reason for your presence here.”

“About that Mike. I would like to know exactly why you thought it would be necessary to have Roberta bate Mrs. Carson into losing her temper.” DA Cook gave me a look. “Or was that all your idea young lady?”

“That was all me, sir. The schoolboard has ignored repeated complaints against that woman. She has used her personal beliefs as grounds for expulsion of students, or to force students that she deems morally unfit of an education to dropout. I have personally been the target of her bigotry. Just ask Mr. Howe or any of his partners. The only reason the woman hasn’t been fired is tenure and lack of evidence.” I looked over when I heard the door to Carson’s office open. I smiled as I watched as she was escorted from her office in handcuffs. “I knew that if I pissed her off enough. She would do the rest for me. I didn’t expect her to give me as much ammo as she did.”

“Young lady if that is you just pissing someone off, I don’t want see you going for killing mad. With what I heard over that conference call I can throw the book at her for more Civil Rights violations than Brown v Board of Education in fifty-four.” DA Cook answered with a smile.

“I don’t know all about that, sir. I’m just tired of that bitch trying to railroad me and my girlfriend into a trumped-up expulsion.”

“I do have to wonder why you went in so hard after her. Why didn’t you just ask for the Principle to join you in her office? That would have ended any chance of confrontation.” I could tell that the DA didn’t know about Corely being out of the office until after third period.

“Sir, you do know that Principle Corely is attending his weekly schoolboard meeting? He won’t be in until after third period.” Miss. Benchley interjected from behind the counter. “I can send him a text that he needs to return immediately, but I don’t know if he’ll answer or even get the message.”

“Excuse me, Miss Benchley, but what do you mean that he might not even get the message?” DA Cook asked harshly. “He is the Principle for this school and you should be able to contact him on short notice.”

“The weekly meetings are held over at the learning annex sir. That building hasn’t been retrofitted with cellphone and Wi-Fi repeaters yet. AS for the landlines those only go to the main office area. The meetings are held clear on the other side of the building from the office. Like I said before, we don’t know if he’ll get the message.” Miss. Benchley explained.

“I gather that this is a normal situation on Monday mornings Miss. Benchley.” Mr. Howe must have decided to go in for the kill from the way he was acting.

“Mr. Howe, everybody knows that Monday mornings are Principle Corely’s meeting time with the schoolboard. He always left Mrs. Carson in charge until he returned.” Miss. Benchley defended. “You should know that. Until we get a replacement for Mrs. Orwell he has to report in every Monday.”

“Excuse me, I don’t understand. Why is Principle Corely reporting every Monday? And what does this Mrs. Orwell have to do with anything?” Cook asked.

I answered this one for the DA. “Mrs. Orwell, is our school’s actual Principle. Mr. Corely is the Vice Principle. He’s only filling in for Mrs. Orwell while she is out on maternity leave. The school board doesn’t trust Mr. Corely because of his age. So, they make him report in on how things are going here at the school every Monday.”

“I think I see where this is going. I do have to ask one thing before going further. Did you intentionally plan to confront Mrs. Carson in such a way as to provoke her response this morning?” Cook gave me a penetrating glare.

“No sir. Nothing about this morning was planned other than my responses to Mrs. Carson. I knew that she would try something concerning mine and my sister’s pit crews. I was not expecting her to try to expel me. Nor was I expecting her to go on that little bigoted rant of hers. The most that I expected was her trying to block my teams registering for the work study program. That was all nothing more.” I was honest with the man. To a point. I wasn’t about to give the District Prosecuting Attorney anything he could use to get me into trouble.

“Okay hold on one minute here. You said that this concerns pit crews for you and your sister. Explain please.”

“That Consular is a story for another time. Just know that Roberta McGuire has a five-year contract to drive for reputable international firm and leave it at that shall we.” Mr. Howe stopped DA Cook’s questioning a long those line in a hurry for some reason. “Please continue with your statement Roberta about the reaction you expected from Mrs. Carson.”

“Yes sir. Like I was saying. I expected for Mrs. Carson to give the pit crews some kind of grief over their contracts and only came into clarify any problems. I’ve known that she has been trying to expel me for some time now. When Bill Casey told me how she trash-canned their contracts, I contacted my mother who put me on three-way with Mr. Howe’s firm. I was then instructed to place my phone in my pocket and return to the office. That is when I was first confronted by Mrs. Carson. The rest Mr. Howe’s firm has on recording. I do know that Coach Hall is in here somewhere with some of the other coaches. Don’t ask me where because I don’t know.”

Cook looked over at Miss. Benchley who pointed to the hall leading to the office conference room. “Coach Hall is in with Coaches Honeywell and Kline. Something about academic feasibility for the athletics department sir.”

I wanted to scream when I heard that Coach Hall was in with the Basketball and Wrestling Coaches. Those two meatheads were known sexist pigs. Mr. Howe must have seen the fear and anger spread across my face as he grabbed the DA by the arm. “Let’s join that meeting Cook. I have a feeling that we need to interrupt those Coaches now.”

“Roberta, you stay here with me.” Mr. Cheatem said before turning to Miss. Benchley. “Young lady, there are currently forty-one people that need to register for the work study program. Why don’t we get a start on the formalities shall we?”

“Why don’t I start, Mr. Cheatem? After all, all their contracts are dependent on mine. Once it is registered the others can just come in and list their names under mine as principle contract holder. That should work legally right?” I didn’t know if we could do that or not, but it was worth a try.

“Sorry, but no, Roberta. Until your legal name change goes through each member of your race team must register their individual contracts. This is to cover both you and them legally, Roberta.” Mr. Cheatem explained.

“Excuse me Mr. Cheatem. Did I hear you correctly? Robert is changing his name legally to Roberta?” Miss. Benchley asked excitedly. I just nodded my head yes, expecting her to go all Holy Roller on me. “Fantastic! About time you decided to be yourself Roberta. If you have any problems adjusting or with the teachers, you come to me.”

“Um… no offence Miss. Benchley, but aren’t you just a secretary?”

Miss. Benchley just chuckled. “Miss. McGuire there are a great many things about me that you don’t know. I am more than just a secretary. I also happen to be the school’s LGBT Counselor. If you need any guidance on your transition and the laws that cover you in school just swing by my office. I know that you already have a lawyer, but I can give you a little background on how they apply to you now.”

“Um… thanks Miss. Benchley. I’ll think about it. Right I just need to get enrolled in the work study program and register my contract.” I really didn’t know all that much about Miss. Benchley, but I didn’t think that now was a good time to get to know her better.

“Of course, Roberta. Do you have a copy of your contract?” I smiled and handed over the photocopy of my contract. I waited for her to spot the name of who I signed with. When it came I held my finger to my lips in the shushing sign. “I take it that neither you or your ‘employers’ have yet to announce your formal signing with the news hounds. Has your pit crew been warned to keep things under their hats?”

“In more ways than one, Miss. Benchley. I’m trying to keep as low a profile as I can for right now.” I was being honest with her. “Until certain legal matters have been sorted out anyway.”

“Understandable, Roberta.” She had been typing away on her desktop while talking with me. She made a fast scan of my contract then handed it back to me. A few more keystrokes and Miss. Benchley smiled. “Almost done Roberta. I just need a copy of your driver’s license. Both of them please.”

“Why do you need to see both, young lady?” Mr. Cheatem asked quickly.

“If this was a normal employment contract I would need only the one. This one though specifically requires that Roberta act as an active professional driver. Requiring certain professional licenses. I hope that answers your question Counselor?” Miss. Benchley answered him.

“Yes, it does Miss. Benchley. Will the other children need to show their drivers licenses as while?” Mr. Cheatem asked her.

“No, sir. Only Roberta needs to show her license to enter the program. Like I said her position requires those two items to work. If I understand correctly the others are pit crew, and don’t actively drive any cars. Is this correct?” She asked of me.

“The only time a member of the pit crew is behind the wheel is during loading and unloading of the car hauler. Even then the engine is off.” I explained.

“Then no one else will need to show their driver license.” Miss. Benchley smiled at me and Mr. Cheatem. “They will need to come in once they have their passports though as it is a requirement for their employment.”

“Miss. Benchley, why all the sudden interest to help out? You’ve never shown much in the past when students wanted to enroll in the work study program.” I was more than a little leery of this woman becoming so helpful.

“Because most of the time the students that try to enroll in the program are just looking for a way to cut classes, Roberta. They’re some of the less academically inclined students who don’t have the needed grade point average to meet even half the requirements. It’s our job as Guidance Counselers to help students understand that having more than just a passing grade does not cut it in the real world. To that end sometimes we have to take a rather harsh stand and say no.” I had to admit that I had never thought about it from the perspective of the Administration.

They had a job to do and sometimes that meant saying no. It wasn’t like they were out to be hard asses. They were just trying to give every student the same chance at a better future as the next. If it meant keeping someone out of the work study program, then so be it.

“Okay I understand, Miss. Benchley. Am I all done?”

She smiled and handed me a pass to get into homeroom as school had already started. “You’re all set. Send in the next person in line.”

“You might want to get one of the other Counselers to give you a hand. There are forty of us that need to register for work study.” I told her as I stood up to leave. “And please try to keep this as quiet as possible.”

“Don’t worry Roberta. I’ll have Mr. Bowey, and Coach Hall help out. We should have the others done before the end of homeroom. Hurry alone before someone starts asking unwanted questions.” She told me.

I just nodded my head and left. I know that mom or dad would fill me in on what happened after I left. They would get the full downlow from Mr. Cheatem and Mr. Howe. I had done my part and it was time for them to do theirs. I made it to homeroom with a half hour to go before my next class. When the bell rang no one asked me why I was late. Not that it was unusual for me to come in late or something like. No what was on everybody’s mind was the arrest of Mrs. Carson, old Iron Panties just before the bell for homeroom.

The speculations for why ran the gambit. Ah, nothing like good teenage gossip to lighten the mood of a drab and boring morning. I got more than a few laughs out of some the reasons for Carson’s arrest. The best one I had heard said she was an escaped prisoner from North Dakota wanted for prostitution and blackmailing a sitting U.S. Congressman. I had to have fun with that one when I heard it by adding a slight twist. I told the person that I had heard it from that I heard that Carson was some kind of Dominatrix, heavy into the Latex and Leather scene, who had been charged with assault with a deadly weapon on the Congressman. When they asked about the assault charge I had to go for broke and said that she was caught in the act of porking the Congressman with a 10-inch dildo when they arrested her the first time.

By the time lunch rolled around that twisted rumor had really gained traction and was the leading reason for Carson’s arrest this morning. I found that so damned funny it was pathetic. That was until I thought about all the times the woman had used rumors and innuendos to destroy some student or teacher she didn’t like. I figured that even if Carson beat the rap on the endangerment charges her career as an educator was over. At least in South Carolina, the belt buckle of the Bible Belt. The rumors surrounding Carson’s arrest also had another unexpected side effect for me. No one was talking about the line of students that had been outside the main office this morning before everything went down with Carson.

I figured that if she had just let us do what we had come into to do, that by third period the whole school would have heard about my contract. As it was nobody was even asking about it. It was as if me and the others had nothing to do with her arrest. Her arrest was turning out to be the perfect smoke screen. Totally distracting the other students and staff from what we had done. I knew that the word would eventually get out and I would have the gear heads hounding me for the chance to join my pit crew. But the longer it took, the easier it would be to say that all the positions were full already.

I was in a really good mood until the second to last period of the day, sixth period History with Mr. Greenly. The man could put the energizer bunny to sleep with his lectures on post-World War One Europe. My good mood and the smoke screen all disappeared in the blink of an eye. With just a few simple opening remarks in class from the most boring teacher in all of B.S. High.

“To start the class off today I would like to point out that history is happening around us all the time. Case in point, let us exam what happened over the weekend. Robbie, I would like to congratulate you on your signing with Mercedes-Benz as their newest driver. I understand that you set a new track time and speed record to gain that contract is that true?”

I was livid. “Mr. Greenly, would you care to explain how you came by extremely sensitive information regarding a McGuire Racing Designs Internal contract?” I snapped out as I stood from my desk.

“Just what are you implying Mr. McGuire?” he snapped.

“That you have knowledge of such a contract that has as of yet to be announced sir means that you have gained this information through illegal and/or unethical means by the use of insider information. Which can lead to charges of insider trading being filed against you sir. That is what I am implying.” I wasn’t going to let this go.

The man had just divulged extremely confidential information to a whole classroom of Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, and social media junkies. I wanted his source and I wanted it now before that information got plastered all over the fucking net. I also figured that if I threatened to have him arrested for insider information trading I could hopefully put a stop to most of the Blogger nuts from going hog wild.

He must have seen where I was going because he quickly backed down. He figured out that he had screwed up. “I learned of your extraordinary accomplishments this weekend from my nephew Anthony. He and his father were over at my house last night for dinner. If I had known this information was still considered confidential I would never have mentioned it in such an open forum. Please forgive my lack of decorum in this matter.”

I thought about what he said and tumbled to the fact he said he learned of it from a family member. “Your nephew wouldn’t happen to be Tony Towers sir?”

“He is. I thought that Tony or Ivan would have told you.” Mr. Greenly gave me a strange look as he answered my question.

“It seems that your family is full of surprises sir.” I said with a smile. From across the room, one of the most obnoxious gearheads calls out to me.

“Wait you mean you really did sign a driver’s contract?! That Tommy Hart wasn’t bullshitting around last night down at the strip?” I wanted to pound the kid, but the cat was out of the bag.

“Robert, as much as you wish that I hadn’t broached the topic.” Mr. Greenly began only have me stop him. I sighed and stood up.

“It’s alright Mr. Greenly. It would have gotten out eventually.” I looked over at the gearhead. “Yes, Dale I signed a driver’s contract this weekend. Yes, it is with Mercedes-Benz. My sister Beth also signed a contract with the same people. As for the new track records they are unofficial. Both for NASCAR and Formula One. The reasons differ for each field. I hope that answers your questions. For anything else I con only say no comment.”

“Yeah right! Give us the good stuff already McGuire. Or are you just full of it?” Dale almost shouted back at me. “Like when are you going to introduce some real drivers to those fancy backers of your parents.”

From the back of the classroom Christal Price chuckled out load. “Yeah like you could ever hope to out drive Robbie even on your best day. We all know that you and your cronies have tried to out race him so many times and failed that it is beyond pathetic. Grow up already Dale. Just because your daddy decided to name you after Dale Earnhardt doesn’t mean you know how to drive.”

I so wanted to kiss that girl just then. I won’t because I really do love Kelly, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t either. Christen Price may not be the classic cheerleader beauty queen, but she was most definitely one of those classic old-world beauties. The only reason she wasn’t part of any of the athletic teams was her wheelchair. Christen was a paraplegic thanks to a drunk driver crashing into her and her dates car last year on prom night. Her boyfriend Steve Miller hadn’t been as lucky. He died on impact trying to shield Christen as best he could. I remember going to Steve’s wake with Beth.

The cheap shot about Dale’s lack of skill behind the wheel was driven by her circumstances. Mainly because the drunk had been a friend of Dale’s, and the gearhead crowd. The only good thing that came out of the crash was the drunk got fifteen years over at Lee Correctional Institute and lifetime suspension of his driver’s license. Like I said I went to Steve’s wake that was held fifteen days after the crash. When I saw that more than a few of the gearheads showed up half plastered and three sheets to the wind. I got mad. I was so pissed that I ran the shitheads out of the funeral home with a tire-iron.

It was also the first and only time I let my emotions get the better of me when it comes to racing. I challenged the whole gearhead crowd to a winner takes all, no holds barred, 200-mile rat-race. I put five of them into back country ditches. I might not have gotten justice for Christen and Steve that night, but that whole crowd learned a valuable lesson about the price for drinking and driving. You drink, you drive, you lose your car. If not your life.

I watched as Dale’s face turned blood red with anger. “Don’t even open your mouth Dale. Not if you want to keep that piece of crap Nissan three-fifty Z. I know of a few charities that could benefit from just the sale of its parts.”

The threat was as real as it was implied. I would race the dipshit for pink slips, then part out his car before he had a chance to buy it back. I had done it to more than one gearhead in our school already. Dale knew that I didn’t play around when I rat-raced. Hell, the WHOLE school knew not to challenge me to a rat-race for pink slips. Because I would be the one driving away while you started walking. I think things might have gotten out of hand if Mr. Greenly wasn’t still in the room.

“That will be quite enough Robbie. Take your seat, please. Dale, I suggest that you remember the last time you and your crowd got froggy and challenged Robbie. If I’m not mistaken MRDI held a charity auction selling off six high-end street performance cars.” I couldn’t believe that Mr. Greenly would even go so far as to bring that up in class. Then again Dale wasn’t one of the more respected students at B.S. High. The fact was that he and the rest of the gearheads were flat out hated by more than one teacher. To more than a few of them, the gearheads were one step above the Basketball players and Wrestlers. There was not a lot of love for the main bullies of the school.

Once Mr. Greenly had regained control of the class he returned to his planned lesson for the day. During the class I kept getting dirty looks form Dale. I watched as he pulled out his phone and started texting. I just knew that he was letting his butt buddies know that Tom wasn’t bullshitting them about me winning that contract. I figure I have between the beginning of seventh period and the end of school before they try to corner me. Most likely at the end of school in the parking lot.

I waited until Mr. Greenly had his back to me and pulled out my phone. Keeping it below the level of the desk I sent out a text to the male members of my pit crew. I wasn’t about to let Dale, Thomas, and their butt buddies corner me without a fight or backup. I also won’t put it past them to try something with my car. After sending out my text I put my phone away. When the bell rings for class change I wait around to give Christen a hand.

“Thanks for putting numb nuts in his place Christen. He was really pushing my buttons today.” I told her as I stepped behind her chair to push.

“No biggie, Rob. It was the least I could do for you after what you did last year. No one else was going to do anything about those yahoos.”

“I have no idea of what you’re talking about. I can categorically deny any involvement with the meatheads of the gearhead crowd and the loss of six of their members’ cars.” I put on my best State Senator Lindsey Graham face as I said that. Which had the desired effect. Christen busted out laughing. As we walked down the hallway towards our last class of the day Christen patted me on my hand before looking up at me.

“Rob, I know what you did for Steve and me in shutting down their little rat-racing scam. So, does everybody else in school.” Christen waved for me to lean down next to her so only I could hear her. “You need to know something. Thomas Hart was downtown running his mouth about you getting that contract. I may not have the use of my legs anymore, but I still have my five senses. They’re going to confront you after school at your car.”

“How much and what do you know Christen?” I was worried about her getting in over her head and getting hurt by those thugs. I had already put six out of commission I won’t have any problems going after the rest. As it was I already had more than enough reasons for taking them on. The gearheads hurting Christen because she warned me about something they wanted to pull would just paint an even bigger target on their collective asses.

“I overheard Thomas Hart, Mike Sorenson, and John Foxx at launch talking about forcing you to sign them as members of your pit crew. They believe that their shot at the driver’s seat is through you. How they plan on doing that I don’t know. All I know it that they’re sure they can force you into to signing them as part of your crew.” The look in Christen’s eyes conveyed more than her words did. If she was this worried by what she overheard, then I need to take the threat seriously.

“I figured they would try something after what Dale tried to pull in last period. Don’t worry I got my bases covered.” I stood up and stepped behind her chair. “Come let’s get inside before Mrs. Lincoln nails us with a tarty.”

“I hope you’re right Rob. Because those fuck-nuts won’t be playing around.” Christen must have really been worried for my safety to cuss like that.

I just smiled and pushed her into the classroom. After taking her over to her desk I took mine and waited for the bell. My last class of the day may be a study hall but the teacher who monitored it was a real stickler for the rules. I sat quietly watching the door. Sure, enough Dale came in with just second to spare. That was all I needed to see to know where he had been. Him and the rest of the gearheads had been out behind the gym smoken and token. As they say amongst the stoner crowd.

For the next forty-five minutes I just did my homework. I didn’t have a lot, today. I was able to get most of it done before the bell rang. All I have left to do was read three chapters in History, and one chapter for Social Studies. Both of which I can take care of after my appointment with Sharron. I make a fast stop at my locker to change out books and get the ones that I need for my homework. After locking my locker, I headed for the side door and the student parking lot. As I exited the building I saw exactly what I had expected to see. Dale Cartwright, Thomas Hart, Mike Sorenson, and John Foxx along with nine of their butthole buddies. In short, the senior members of the gearheads had come out to face me down. Lucky me.

It was a good thing that I won’t be facing them down alone. Not by a long shot. As I approached my car the gearheads swarmed around me. I almost bust out laughing at the whole thug mentality of the group. As if they could force me into signing them to pit crew contracts through sheer intimidation. The only problem they had for this to work was finding me alone. Which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.it was almost comical the way they puffed out their chests and swaggered around like they were gangsters.

Thomas Hart was the first one to get into my face. I guess as the so-call leader of this pack of jackasses he had the right to get turned down first. “McGuire, we want a word with. We know that your parents pull some strings to get you that contract. It’s the only way that a little fairy, like you could get one. If you want to avoid getting sent to the hospital this is what you’re going to do for us. You’re going to go in and tell your parents that you got three of the best drivers in South Carolina waiting for contracts. That you want them to sign us today. Got that bitch?”

I didn’t get to say a word. “HART! If you want to live to see the sunrise I suggest you beat it! The same goes for your fuck bubbies.”

As a group the gearheads turned towards the voice of Danny Hailee. Dale shouted. “This has nothing to do with you Hailee! Now piss off!”

“That’s what you get for thinking Cartwright. You need to take a good fucking look around before you go running your mouth.” Danny waved at the other twenty-two male members of the pit crews surrounding us in the parking lot. “There’s twenty-two of us and only thirteen of you. We got your sorry asses outnumbered fuck-head. You screw with our driver we put you in the hospital.”

I looked around at my pit crew. Each one stood ramrod straight cracking their knuckles or hefting a tire iron. The message was clear as a bell. If the gearheads wanted to get violent guys would be sending them to the hospital or the morgue. I needed to get a handle on this fast before it goes kaboom.

“Alright let’s back this shit down a notch people!” I yelled out. I watched as my pit crew and the gearheads backed off. I turned to Thomas. “Alright Tommy boy. You and your guys want a shot at being pro drivers. I’ll get you one.” I could see the wheels turning in their heads. They all knew that my word was good as gold and I had never gone back on my word.

“What’s the deal McGuire? In the past three years you’ve never offered any of us a chance like this.” John Foxx asked with more than a little suspicion.

“Simple Foxx. All you and your boys have to do is get your FIA Super License or NASCAR License. Before you ask I’ll tell you what you need to do. The first of which is pass the physical exam. Oh, and guys part of the physical is a piss test. You fail that and your done. It doesn’t matter how good of a driver you are you’ll never get behind the wheel of a pro-racer.” To drive the point home, I remind them of a NASCAR driver who failed a random piss test. “If you think I’m joking meatheads. I suggest you remember what happened to Jeremy Mayfield in 2009. They suspended his ass from NASCAR indefinitely. The guy is lucky to be driving Pro-Cup for the World of Outlaws instead of still driving a delivery truck.”

I could tell by the look in their eyes that they all remember the drug scandal that rocked the 2009 NASCAR world. I could also tell that most of them were already wondering if they could pass the piss test. My suspicions were confirmed by Neil Hawks. “They don’t test for pot, do they? They only test for the hard shit, right?”

“No, Neil they don’t just test for the hard shit. They test for everything under the sun. I had to get a special dispensation from the docs, FIA, NASCAR, and every other organization I wanted to compete in, for the chemo drugs that still show up in my system. And that is after three years people.” I saw no need to lie to these meatheads. “I had to prove that each and every trace had been medically necessary. So, yah, they test for pot, Neil.”

“What about the pit crews McGuire? Do they piss test the pit crews as well?” Asked Sam Hurley out of the blue.

Danny was quicker to answer that one than I was. “Yes, Hurley they piss test the pit crews as well. Just ask Hart if you don’t believe me. His brother tried to get him on with MRDI in the shop. Tommy boy failed and wasn’t hired. Do you really think those types of racing firms are going to trust multimillion dollar machines to a bunch of druggies?”

By this time the gearheads had as a whole walked away with their dreams of forcing me into signing them as pit crew dashed. Only the four big trouble makers remained. It was time to send them packing as well. “Like I said. You get your Super License or NASCAR license I’ll set you up for a shot at getting a pro-ride. Hell, I’ll even help you prep for a trial run, but you need to know something guys.” I watched as the glimmer of hope started to return to their greedy little harts.

I showed no mercy in crushing those hopes with my next words. “Most of the pro-teams won’t sign someone with a criminal record. That means you got to clean up your acts. Not just for a few months but come completely off probation if you’re on one. Then you need to petition the courts to seal your records. They can’t do it for you unless you make that petition and pay for it. That takes bucks people, bucks you don’t have to spare right now. And I know that none of you are old enough yet to get a juvie record sealed. There you have it in a nice neat little package. That’s what it is going to take for you to get your shot at the big time. Any of you man enough to go for it?”

None of them said anything to me. They just turned and walked away with their heads down. They know I was right and they had zero chance of ever getting what they dreamed. Not unless they turned their acts around. Oh, they knew that I would keep my word, but they had a lot of work to do before that happened. I had made sure they understood the facts of life.

Danny and the rest of my pit crew walked up after the last of the gearheads walked away. “Damn Robbie. Where the hell did you learn to wheel and deal like that? I mean you had them eating out of your hand. You weren’t serious about that offer to help them with their tickets, were you?” Danny asked.

“I was dead serious about helping them Danny. If they put in the work and clean up their acts. I’ll go out of my way to get them a shot at a pro-ride. Just as I would for any of you if you want to get behind the wheel.”

Will Hackney started to chuckle. “No offence, boss lady. But you can keep the crazy shit to yourself. I have no desire to place my dear life in the hands of fate at over one-hundred miles an hour.”

I couldn’t help it, I had to get a dig in for the boss lady comment. “Chicken.” Almost as one, all the guys put their hands under their arm pits and started to flap their arms clucking like a pack of hens. It was the perfect tension breaker. As we all laughed. “Alright you clowns. You need to get over to the garage. And I need to go see my doc. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”

The mood suddenly turned sober at my comment about seeing a doctor. Danny asked for the rest of the team. “You okay Robbie? Nothing wrong?”

“I’m in good health guys. I’m just seeing my shrink today. That’s all. I see her every other Monday.”

“Like I said. You got to be crazy to drive the way she does.” Will crowed. I just gave him a salute in return. The traditional one finger salute.

-----tbc-----

Chapter 5
The office of Doctor Sharron Kelly, Psy. D, 1600
I had taken my time getting over to Sharron’s office. I wasn’t in too great of a hurry to see her today. Not with what I had to discuss today. I mean after three years of fighting her on the very IDEA of just dressing as a girl every now and then. How was I just going to go in there and say I wanted to start living as a girl basically full time. I know that I had a copy of my contract with me to help explain my reasons, but I know Sharron. She won’t just sign off on my sudden change of heart by a long shot. I just knew she was going to tear apart my reasons.

As I waited in her outer office area I pulled out my Social Studies text book and started to read. Sharron’s receptionist had told me that she was running a little behind due to an emergency this morning. Lisa didn’t go into detail on the emergency. It was hard to say with Sharron. She dealt with some really hardcore illnesses in children. Everything from cancer to AIDS. She also worked with transgender children and their families. It was the leukemia that had first brought her into my life. And the side effects of the drugs that saved my life that kept her in my life.

I won’t trade the woman for all the New York head shrinkers in the world. Sharron was as down to earth as they came. More than once I had an appointment with her dressed in breeches, or jumpers, a plain white blouse, and English field boots. From what I have been able to get out of her, Sharron owns 30 acres south of town where she raises horses. Her passion is the English Hunt Seat and Dressage. The woman uses her time with her horses to decompress from her patients. I really can’t blame her. Not when she deals with death on so many levels every day. I know that she cares about her patients but most times, just sometimes, she cares too much.

Case in point, me. When she first met me, I was sick as hell and fucking way too tired to fight any more. I was on my second round of heavy chemo, right before mom and dad gave the go ahead for the experimental shit. I can still remember what an asshole I was towards her. And the way she came down on my ass for my attitude. Talk about getting a wakeup call with a cattle prod. Sharron didn’t cut me any slack.

I’ll admit that I didn’t start our relationship off on the right foot. It when something like this. I looked at the woman in the doorway to my bedroom. “okay, seeing as how you’re standing in the doorway to my bedroom and you’re not dressed in scrubs that makes you one of two things. First, is a shrink. Which to be honest with you, I fucking don’t need. I figure that sooner or later the big guy is going to cash in on my chips and call me home. When that happens is up to him so why fight the inevitable. The second option is you’re a hooker. Which I can deal with as I don’t want to die a virgin. Now all that being said let’s get down to brass tacks. If you’re a hooker, I’ll start with a blow job. If you’re a shrink I’ll still take the blow job, then you can get the fuck out.”

Sharron just gave me a quirky smile, then walked over to my bedside. Once she was standing beside my bed she helped me sit up straight. I watched as she lowered my pajama bottoms. I thought that I had just hit the damned lottery. That I was actually going to get my very first, and possibly last, blow job. The next thing I know I’m face down over her lap with my bare ass sticking up in the air. Sharron then proceeded to give me the ass-cutting of a lifetime with her bare hand. After ten painful and tear bringing swats, Sharron sat me back on my bed then stood up saying.

“Now, that I have your attention Robert. You can pull your pants up then we’ll get down to business.” The whole time Sharron never once lost that quirky damned smile.

To say I was shocked would be to say the sun rises in the east. Needless to say, I did as she said and lost the attitude. Of the five shrinks that my oncology doctors had tried to force down my throat Sharron was the only one to have gained my respect. And she did it by treating me like an adult or at the time a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

My thoughts were brought back to the here and now as a mom and son sat down in the chairs across from me. He couldn’t have been more than ten and the tattletale bald head, pale pallor, sunken eyes, told me why they were here. If I had to guess, I would have to say that he was somewhere in his second or third round of chemo and radiation. I give him the best smile that I can knowing exactly what he is going through and how he feels. The boy just glairs at me before saying. “Take a picture. It last longer.”

The boy’s mother was quick to apologize for her son’s rudeness. “I am so sorry for Lee’s snide remarks young lady. Lee Harvey, you apologize this moment young man. I taught you better than that.”

“No need ma’am. I understand how he feels right now. Lee is in what his second or third round of chemo?” They looked over at me with surprise. “I’m in remission. Three years now, almost four. Childhood Leukemia.”

“Wow. I would never have thought someone could beat this stuff. You’ve really been in remission for almost four years now?” I could tell that this meant a lot to Lee. He so badly need something to hope for just then.

“Not only have I been in remission for three years Lee I have even gone on to reach one of my dreams.” I looked around the room. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure, I can. Why?” He gave me a sideways look.

“Have you ever watched Formula One racing?” He just nodded his head. I could tell by the look in his eyes that the first time was from a hospital bed. Most likely it was on the same ward that I was with the same nurse. “Let me guess. Nurse Suzie was the one that sat and watched it on ESPN with you. Am I right?” I said just before I started to giggle at the look on his face.

“I told you that I’ve been there and got the t-shirts.” My flippant mark had the desired effect. It got Lee to chuckle. “Now, about that secret. I really need you to promise me not to say a word to anyone.”

“I promise. Not one word to anyone.” I could tell that Lee wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long. Not that it mattered. The whole word would know by Friday evening.

“You are looking at one of the newest Formula One drivers in the sport.” I watch as his eye narrowed in suspicion. “No lie. Here is a copy of my contract. I brought it in to show Sharron. You know how these shrinks get about their success stories. Well, I want to be up on that wall of theirs.”

I let little Lee read the first page of my contract copy. I watched as his eyes went from narrowed suspicion, to full blown wide surprise. “WOW! You really are a professional racer. Did you ever think that you would do this?”

“Nope. I was so wrapped up in my disease and dying that I wasn’t looking beyond the next day. The next treatment. Whatever came next in trying to save my life. I was a real mean hateful person at the time. You want to know what saved my life?” I asked the ten-year-old little boy in front of me.

“Yes please.” There it was. That need for something to believe in, to hope for, a reason to keep fighting.

“I got pissed off at the world and refused to give up fighting for my dream. And right here is my dream.” I said as held up my contract. “Who’s your head shrinker, little guy?”

“I see Doctor T.E. Lawrence. Why?” Lee said with some trepidation. But I already knew how to make Lee’s day by his answer. Lawrence was the second head shrinker that was brought in to deal with me during my illness and he was the one that I screwed with the most.

“Do you want to have some fun messing with the shrinks?” Lee was nodding his head so hard that I was afraid it would come off. “When you go into his office stop at the door. Take a real deep breath and shout at the top of your lungs. United! Three times before taking your seat.”

“I don’t think you need to be angering the Doctor like that Lee.” His mother gave me a less than approving look. “And you, young lady, shouldn’t be encouraging such behavior.”

“Ma’am, if Lee was seeing any other doctor here for the first time I wouldn’t even dream of suggesting that stunt. Doctor Lawrence was born, raised, and educated in the U.K. and is a real pain in the backside English Gentleman. He thinks that he is better than us poor Colonists. His only weakness is his love of English Premier League Soccer and Liverpool especially.”

“I take it that you’ve seen most of the doctors here young lady?” Lee’s mother asked me with a smile.

I just shrugged my shoulders. “Let’s just say that we’ve all met at one time or another. Right now, I’m seeing doc Sharron.”

“You wouldn’t mind talking about why would you? If it is too personal, I’ll understand.” The mother said quietly.

“I’m still dealing with some side effects from the last treatments of my cancer. The drugs were part of an experimental trial.” I saw no reason to lie to the woman. I just wasn’t going to tell her that the drugs were slowly turning me into a woman. Or that they were still in my system. That’s something parents of sick children need to discuss with doctors. Not a teenage kid with nothing more than a high school education.

“Oh my. I sorry. Are you going to be okay dearie? The drugs haven’t effected your monthly visitor, have they?”

The second she said monthly visitor I knew exactly what she thought about my sexual status. I blushed. “No ma’am. No problems there.” I mumbled.

I was saved further embarrassment by the timely arrival of Doc Lawrence. “Mrs. O’Neil, you and Lee can come back now.” Lawrence looked over at me and frowned. “Doctor Kelly, will be with you shortly, Robby.”

I just waved and snickered because I saw the twinkle of mischief in Lee’s eye as he got up. I just knew that he was going to tweak the good doctor’s nose the moment he stepped into Lawrence’s office. I sat back and waited for the fun to begin. I may have given Lee the idea, but he was going to be the one to have all the fun. Ah, yes. It’s the little pleasures that make life so worth living at times.

“Robby, you can come on back now.” I looked up and saw Sharron standing there giving me that quirky smile of hers. I just returned the smile and got up. I was putting my Social Studies book in my bag when I heard from the direction of Lawrence’s of the sounds of a child’s voice raised in victory calling out United three times. I looked over at Sharron. “I know that you just didn’t send Lee O’Neil in there to tweak T.E.’s nose like that?”

“I cannot tell a lie.” I said with a straight face. “It was all his idea.” Yup. I just threw a ten-year-old under the bus.

“I’m sure it was, Robert.” Sharron scowled before busting out with a mile-wide smile. “You just made that child’s day. You know that?”

“I don’t know about that Sharron. I just know he needed something to left his spirits. And the best way to do that at his age is to tweak the noses of those in charge and think they know it all.” I told her as I pointed towards Lawrence’s office. “And that man needs to have his ego deflated regularly.”

Sharron just shook her head as we walked back to her office. “You know something kiddo. You’re good for my mental health at times.”

“Yah, well, I remember a time when you were the one helping me out. What happened to get you so far behind?” I was one of the few patients that Sharron would talk to about her others.

“Lisa Hill, tried to take her life this morning.” I damned near fell face into the door jam hearing that. Sharron filled me in the rest as she knew that me and Lisa were good friends. “She was informed yesterday that she would need to have her ovaries and uterus removed. Her cancer has returned.”

I sat down heavily in the nearest chair. Lisa and me, had been on the children’s cancer ward at MUSC Children’s Hospital in Charleston. We had become fast friends when we learned the other was from Darlington. She was the first to go into remission. That was over five years ago. I’ve only been in remission for just short of four years. To learn that her cancer had returned was a kick in the head. One that really made me thankful for that piece of paper in my hands just now. It was a dream come true. Not just for me, but for Lisa too. I cannot forget how excited she got just watching the Formula 1 Grand Prix Heineken Du Canada from Montréal. I wasn’t much of a fan of F1 until that day. I mean I grew up in the heart of NASCAR country.

“Is she going to be alright? When can I go visit her?” I was fighting back the tears and anger that threatened to overwhelm me.

“She’s out of danger for now Rob. As for visiting her. I’m afraid that will have to wait for now. She is not in a really good place mentally Rob.”

“Okay. Can you do me a favor?”

“I’ll let you know when you can visit her, Rob. I’ll also let her know that you’re thinking about her. Is that what you were going to ask?” I smiled and nodded. “Not a problem, kiddo. I know you two got close during your time at MUSC Charleston. I’ll even let her know that you kept your promise.”

She pointed down at the contract that I had been holding onto, as if it would fly away if I didn’t. I had to think back to when I first took it out of my backpack. Why hadn’t I returned it to my bag, like I had with my Social Studies book? I knew that Sharron would want to talk about it, but I waited to show it to her. Was I that excited to share my good news, for a change, with Sharron. Even if she was going to rip into me over allowing the clause about presenting a female appearance to get put in there.

“How do you know about that promise?”

“Rob, Lisa is one of my patients just as you are.” She chuckled. “She told me all about the boy on the ward whose family build race cars. She also told me how you promised to earn your Super License and all those others. Just so you can drive a Formula One racer for her.”

“I was just a kid making a silly promise to some girl to keep her happy.” I grumbled. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yet, for the last two years you have busted your fucking ass to earn all of those licenses. You are cleared to drive in four deferent auto sports. Tell me that promise had nothing to do with that? And do it with a straight face, Rob. If you can do that I’ll drop the subject.”

“It’s eight deferent auto sports, not four.” I mumbled. I decided to not address her comment about the promise.

“I thought as much, you can’t fool me Rob. Everything you did for the last two years was to get those licenses. Just so you can keep your word.” Damn I hate it when Sharron calls me out on my own bullshit. “I remember the day you told me you got your Super License. You were strutting around here like a gamecock in a new henhouse.”

“Oh, bite me, Sharron.” I grumbled in response only to have Sharron bust out laughing. “Glad to see that I can lift your spirits, there doc. Been to any funerals lately or are you saving the good stuff for your tour.”

“That’s better, Rob.” Sharron said as she gave that trade mark smile of hers. “Look kiddo, I know the news about Lisa was hard to take. I also know that I dropped it on you like a bomb. I only did it so that you won’t be caught off guard at the next survivors group when it comes up during the meeting. You are going to be there?”

“It all depends on whether or not Roberta Lee will be welcome.”

“Let’s talk about that, Rob. Because I am not too happy about that clause in your contract. No one should be able to dictate how you present yourself to the world. I know that you want that contract, but it could cause you problems in the long term.” I knew that Sharron wasn’t going to just sign off on the contract without saying something.

“I kind of figured that you would feel that way Sharron. Hell, I’m not too freaking happy about that clause either.” I took a deep breath and sighed. “But I got to face facts. It doesn’t matter what I say people will always see girl first when they look at me. That drug cocktail really screwed things up for me in that department. I don’t know how many times we’ve gone over that in this office alone.”

“Eighteen times to be exact, Rob. As much as you hate what those drugs did to your body’s chemistry, they still saved your life. Do I wish that they hadn’t forced you into a transgender situation? The answer is yes. No child should be forced to decided between living as the opposite sex and dying. Right now, you’re being forced to make a similar choice. Only this time it is to achieve your life long dreams by outsiders.” There it was, Sharron’s beef with my contract and why she wasn’t going to sign off on my plans. “Before you go bitching about me not giving the go ahead you need to explain to me why you want it so much. Do we have an agreement?”

“We have an agreement Sharron. I kind of figured that you would want me to explain why I want to do this so bad. I actually have a list of reasons both for and against in my notebook. I think I got somewhere around twenty reasons for the pro side and double that for the con side. But I can pretty much sum up my feelings for doing this with just one reason.” I stopped there to organize my thoughts before continuing.

“Okay Rob, what’s that reason?” Sharron must have thought that I needed to be prodded to get to the point. She would do that at times if she felt that I was avoiding the real reason for doing something.

“I need to do this because it is the best solution to a totally fucked up situation.” I held up my hand to keep her from interrupting. “For the last two years you have been after me to accept that which is right in front of me. When I first started growing breasts I was pissed off. We both know that. Hell, you were the one that talked me out of suicide damn it. I’ve fought my body’s changes for two years now. What’s that gotten me? I’ll tell you. Nothing but grief, heartburn, and endless headaches. All because people don’t see a boy when they look at me. They see a five-foot-five teenage girl with long raven-black hair who is still in her tomboy stage of life wearing her brother’s clothes. I may not go all-out girly-girl, but people will quit trying to get me to behave more ‘lady like’. Hell, less than twenty minutes ago a woman who I had never meet before called me a ‘young lady’. I don’t even know HOW many times that has happened. I used to keep a record of those times. Then I got smart and threw the book into the trash as all it did was piss me off. I won’t even go into the number of times some salesclerk has told that the junior miss section was on the other side of the aisle in Wally-world or some other big box clothing store. And that isn’t the bad part anymore.”

“What’s the bad part, Rob?” Sharron could tell that something was really eating at me now. Something that has been there for a while.

“It didn’t hit me until yesterday when Kelly took me to actually buy some girl clothes that I found something that really fit. For the past year I’ve been buying clothes that are baggy as hell or two sizes too big, just to have something to wear. All because nothing in the boys’ section really fits me in the hips, shoulders, ass, or chest anymore. I could spend less than one hour in the junior/miss’s section of Wally-world and get enough jeans, blouses, skirts and dresses to out fit me for a month. And everything would fit perfectly. The way it was meant to, not hang off me like a fucking tent. We spent less than twenty minutes yesterday morning shopping coming out with panties, bra, hose, shoes, and a long-sleeved dress. A total outfit that fit made me not only look like a girl, but damn a good looking one.”

The more talked the more Sharron’s brow furrowed in thought and worry. She must have sensed my distress over the revelation at looking so good as a girl. “I take it that you were caught off guard by how good looking of a girl you turned out to be, Rob.”

“You can say that again, Sharron. I know that I’m no paragon of masculinity. But I shouldn’t look like I just stepped off the runway in Milan either.”

“Yet that was what happened wasn’t it? You’re more than just cute or beautiful. You’re what they call an old-world-beauty. With your raven-black hair, light pale skin, and piercing green eyes, with just a touch of makeup. You would be turning heads everywhere you went. And this is what happened yesterday wasn’t it and that’s got you totally turned around.” I just nodded my head yes. I didn’t trust my voice just then. “And you’ve been thinking about how you would look as a girl for a while now. Then yesterday you found out the hard way that you would look good. Too good from your reactions.”

“You could say that, Sharron.” I put out there honestly. Then I sighed. “The crazy part is the way people were treating me. Until, yesterday morning most people, even some of my friends, always acted a little standoffish around me. Then the one time I show up in a dress with just a little makeup, and BOOM. Respect and acceptance out of nowhere. Explain that one to me.”

This time it was Sharron who sighed. “Rob for the past two years I have tried to avoid confronting you with this. I know how much your appearance upsets you. Like most teenagers you want to be accepted by those around you. While most of your friends and peers see you as a cancer survivor, they still see what that battle did to you. For most of them, this is scary as hell. Then you go out of your way to hide behind oversized clothing it makes you look a lot worse off than you really are. Then out of the blue, like a bolt of lightning, you set out dressed in clothes that actually fit your body. The result is they see a healthy, extremely fit, young woman, who just happens to be very beautiful, not a cancer survivor.”

“Are you saying that just because I went and put on clothes that actually fit me. They quit seeing some kind of walking dead man. Is that what you’re getting at? Is that why you haven’t been pushing for me to dress more in line with how my body looks?” I demanded of Sharron.

“In a word. Yes. I never wanted to force the issue because I figured that you would have seen the truth eventually. You have never been one to wallow in self pity or doubt, Robert. No matter how sick you got you always had the attitude of bring it on world or fuck off. That’s why I haven’t tried to force the issue with you. You’re too much of a fighter.”

I just chuckled at that last bit as I remembered our first meeting. “That wasn’t what you said the first time we crossed paths. If I remember right, you gave me my first real ass-cutting in several months.”

Sharron smiled then chuckled at the memory. “I also remember you saying something about hookers, shrinks, blowjobs, then getting the fuck out of your room. Like I said, you’re a real fighter.”

“You know, I never apologized for that crack.” Then I just smirked. “You know, I never got that blowjob either.”

Sharron busted out laughing. Once she regained her professional composure she gave a sideways smile. “Get a little older and we might talk about it.”

“Tease.” I chuckled then turn serious. “Sharron, I know that I’m doing the right thing for me when it comes to this contract. Does it piss me off that people only see a girl when they look me? Yes. Can I do anything about it? Not really. Sure, I can go the whole male HRT route, but I already know the dangers that entails. Only instead of people seeing me as redressing my situation and correcting what the chemo drugs did to me. They’ll only see a female to male transsexual. As far as professional race teams to go. None of them will even look at me if I try to pass myself off as a guy. Not looking the way that I do. But, if I just go with the flow and let them see a girl then I have the racing industry by the balls.”

Sharron reached over to me. “Let me see the clause, Rob.” She must have gone over that clause in my contract six or seven times before handing back my copy with a sad smile. “Normally I would demand that clause be removed under medical necessity. Only this is one time that I know I’ll get overruled by my patient. For some stupid reason I can see her going behind my back and doing it anyway. Just do me one favor Robbie.”

“For you Sharron, anything.” I answered honestly.

“If at any time you feel like you’re being overwhelmed you call me. I mean that any time. Day or night, it doesn’t matter, kiddo. You call me. No matter where you’re at in the world. Got that?”

“Sure, thing Sharron. Do you want me to call you when I’m out of the country for my races?” I figured she would want me to at least keep in contact.

“I’ll give you the toll-free number for my office, Robbie.” Sharron smiled. “I’m not surprised that you figured out the next part on your own.”

“Sharron you have been my shrink for the last four years. You’re not the only one to spot clues in body language.” With a smile I picked up my contract and placed in my backpack. “I’ve learnt more than a few things from you.”

“I guess that you have. Well, time is almost up. Why don’t we set up your next appointment for Saturday instead of Monday?” I thought about what Sharron was offering me. She was giving up what little free time she had to see me.

“Nope. I know that either mom or dad tried to reschedule our appointments for Saturday, Sharron. I will not have them cutting into your free time, so I can spend more time training with the pit crews. Not when I can move their training time to Saturday. They get paid more than you do, so they can make the time sacrifice. If mom or dad call to reschedule my appointments tell them to talk to me first and then to piss off. This is my time for getting out of my head with my doctor. Not theirs.”

“Roberta, there are times when I am forced to remember who I’m dealing with when it comes to you. Alright, I’ll see you next week. Kiddo.”

I stood up hugged her and headed for the door. Just before leaving I felt my smart-ass bone kick-in. “Same Rob time. Same Rob channel.”

Sharron started laughing again as she waved for me to get on out of her office. “Go! Get on out of here you nut. Before I change my mind, and have you committed for cranial rectal inversion.”

“HAY! I do not have my up head up my ass!” I huffed. Then gave her one of her own quirky smiles. “I’m delightfully, yet criminally demented.”

“The last part I’ll give you. You are definitely demented.” Sharron gave me a broad grin. “To prove it all I have to do is point to your chosen profession. I mean really. Who in their right mind takes on the Lady in Black at over two-hundred and thirty-miles per hour? Only someone on the ragged edge of sanity behind the wheel. That’s who.”

“I hope you plan on buying one of my posters for your wall, Sharron. If not, I’ll be sure to send one to you that’s signed.”

“Send one to Lisa instead, Roberta. It’ll do more good with her.” Sharron’s very polite reminder of my friend’s mental state ended our session for the day. I left her office with a far leveler head and steadier emotions. If nothing else, my time with Sharron always put things into perspective for me. The woman always seemed to find the one thing to keep me going.

It was a little after six that evening when I pulled into the drive at home. I was slightly surprised to find only Joey at home. “Yeah, Joey. Where’s Beth, mom, and dad? Shouldn’t they be home by now?”

He looked at up me from the kitchen table and his home. “Do you have any idea of the amount of shit you stirred up over Carson today sis?”

“Hay. What’s that got to do with them not being home?” I was starting to worry. If whatever I did this morning comes back to hurt my family I was going to kill that bitch Carson the minute I saw her. “Where are they?”

“Beth, mom, and dad are all downtown at an emergency meeting with the schoolboard. Dad received a phone call from Mr. Howe at around four. He grabbed mom and hauled ass out of here. He had mom call Beth from the car. They’ve been gone ever since.” Joey looked over at his phone. “Beth has been sending me text messages with updates.”

“What the hell is Carson trying to pull?” I just knew that it was someone working for her.

“Not Carson. Those fuck heads Honeywell and Kline. They’re saying that it is illegal for you to exclude the basketball and wrestling teams. That the restrictions you placed on who can be members of the pit crews are unreasonable and prejudiced towards their athletes. They’re saying that their players deserve a shot to try out for the pit crews based solely on athletic abilities. They keep saying that you formed two NEW scholastic and athletic teams without the proper academic and school system approvals. That you need to have an approved and licensed athletic instructor for the training of the teams.”

“What fucking scholastic teams? What fucking academic approvals? What fucking instructor? Where are those two fucking assholes coming up with this shit?” I was livid. These people were trying to fuck with my business.

“Woah! Calm down sis. Mom and dad have been able to shut down most of their bullshit. They should be able to get the rest of it crushed here shortly. They got Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe there with them.” Joey said trying to calm me down. Only it wasn’t working. I was beyond pissed.

“Let’s go Joey. If those fuck sticks want to pick a fight with me. They just got one.” I threw my bookbag on the table and turned around headed for the front door. I heard Joey scrambling to catch up with me.

I had just reached my car when Beth pulled in and parked behind my GTO. As she got I was ready to tell her to get back in behind the wheel. Only she was smiling, not frowning like she should have been. “Why aren’t you still with mom and dad over at the learning annex?”

“The meeting is over. We won. Honeywell and Kline are on their way to the unemployment line in the morning. That’s the good news.” Beth was practically jumping for joy. Then she dropped the other shoe. “The bad news is mom and dad had to make a few concessions to the board.”

“What fucking concessions?” I demanded.

“Let’s talk in the house, Robbie. You’re actually going to like a few of the concessions. They will even help the teams in the long run.” I could tell that Beth was hiding something.

“What about the other concessions? The ones that I won’t like?”

“Like I said let’s talk in the house.” I let Beth lead us back inside. I went to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Beth put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down. “Okay Robbie, here’s the deal. Now, hear me out before you go blowing your top and storming out the door. I don’t like a few of the concessions mom and dad made either.”

“Just tell me what those shit headed, blue-hairs, demanded already.”

“The first is we have to allow the kids we signed to the pit crews claim their time working as an educational credit, PE credit, and finally an athletic credit. Next, up is the three classes they have to take. They won’t backdown on the required classes. The same goes for you. You’ll be getting your new schedule in the morning. Every one of you has to take History, Social Studies, and U.S. Government. The next concession we had to make concerns the PE and athletic credits. One of the school’s coaches must be part of the pit crews.” When I heard this last one I almost blow my top. That was until Beth smiled. “Mom and dad, got us Coach Hall. Coach Hall was more than happy to agree to signing a six-year contract with us as an athletic trainer.”

I thought about the concessions that the schoolboard had placed on the teams. Most of them were already in line with the requirements that I had put in place. I mean all of the concessions with the exception of the last one basically went towards the work study program. The last one forced us to employ a teacher as well as a physical trainer for the pit crews. Which was a good thing when I think about it. I mean Coach Hall is one of the best coaches at my high school. She also has the most educational credentials. With fifteen of the races happening during the school term, having a teacher with us would be an advantage, for all of us. And if the school system had to pay for half of her salary so much the better.

“Is the school system willing to come off with half of Coach Hall’s pay while we cover the other half?”

“Are you kidding?” Beth snorted. “Mom and dad are paying her three times what she gets paid by the school system. But yes, she’ll still be getting her teacher’s pay while she works with us. Dad got all kinds of stupid crazy over that. He kept pointing out that if the schoolboard was going to saddle us with an approved athletic trainer. Then they can damned well insure that person gets time towards retirement while they work for us.”

“Okay let me get this straight. The blue-hairs down at the damned schoolboard got wiped into an above their normal frenzy over MRDI hiring forty students as pit crew members. All because none of Beavis and Butt-head’s flying-monkeys were invited to join the party. They basically force our parents to comply with their conditions or what they shut down our pit crews’ enrollment in the work study? Forcing them and me to do what? Drop out and go for GEDs or let the monkey nuts tryout for the pit crews. Well they can go fuck themselves. THIS is MY racing team. NOBODY is going to tell me WHO I let on it.”

“Calm down Robbie. I told you mom and dad shut that shit down. I should say Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe shut it down. I swear those three lawyers pulled out all the stops.” Beth started to giggle. “I wish you could have been there, but we knew where you were. The best part of all this though was when both Honeywell, and Kline got fired. It was priceless.”

“What brought that on?” Joey asked.

“You know how Lady Carter is about manners and proper behavior. Being all Southern Bell stuck up bitch that she is?” Both Joey and I just nodded our heads. Mrs. Annabella Wendell-Carter raised in Charleston South Carolina, married a real Danish Lord while she served in a U.S. Army hospital as a Nurse during Vietnam.

“Well, Coach Kline got all pissed off when Mr. Cheatem pointed out that none of his wrestlers could meet the individual requirements for signing even one of the pit crew contracts. Requirements that would have been set in place by our parents if you hadn’t. Well Coach Kline claimed that you were prejudiced towards his athletes. That you had set unfair and unrealistic standards for the two teams. That only the top three percent of the school’s students could even hope to participate. He and Honeywell were wanting mom and dad to lower the g.p.a. to two-point-oh. And get rid of the no criminal record requirement.” Beth was really starting to giggle now. She was practically having a giggle fit. Not that I blame her. I can just see the look on my parents’ faces over the demands being made by Honeywell and Kline.

“Well, Mr. Cheatem let Kline run his mouth for about fifteen to twenty minutes. Before dropping the legal hammer. He politely informed the schoolboard’s members that while the members of our pit crew are high school teenagers and subject to the rules of the school. MRDI is an Internationally known Racing Design firm. That MRDI is NOT subject to the rules of the schoolboard or the school system. And despite what Coach Kline or Honeywell want we do not have to change anything when it comes to the requirements we set for those we employ.”

I could already see what happened next. “Let me guess. Either Kline or Honeywell threatened to beat the crap out of Mr. Cheatem. They did it right in front of Lady Carter. When she reminded them of their manners one of them told her off or threatened to beat on her if she didn’t butt out. Am I right?”

“You got it in one, baby girl. We both know how well that went over.” Beth was in full blown hysteria laughing fit.

“Like a fart in the confessional during Easter.” Joey chuckled.

“Worse than that baby bro. Lady Carter’s butler got right up in Kline’s face before dropping him like a bad habit. When Honeywell went to get in on the act old man Jacobs cleared the table to put the beat down on him. I would never have thought that sixty-seven-year-old man could move like that. Let alone throw down like that. Anyway, Lady Carter demanded that both Kline and Honeywell be fired on the spot. The board didn’t even hold a vote. Superintendent Rice just stood up and yelled ‘You’re both fired. Clean out your offices and desks.’ I got to see Kline and Honeywell frog marched out of the building by Security. It was priceless. The two biggest sexist pigs have finally been removed from B.S.”

I was stunned to say the least. In one day three of the biggest speed bumps in my drive towards a career have been removed. The best part was all three of them brought themselves down. I had nothing to do with their individual take downs. Well, I should say not directly. It was all their own self-interests that screwed them over in the long run. Thankfully, I wasn’t there at the meeting with the schoolboard. I just know that little fiasco is going to come back to hit me in the ass. Because if the Basketball and Wrestling Coaches were fired someone was going to try and blame me. Most likely the guys on those two teams.

“Oh, and don’t worry about the chuckleheads of the basketball and wrestling teams. They are all being put on probation for grades.” Beth told me with a smile. Like that would ease my mind.

“Why do I have the feeling that somewhere out there right now is a giant crème pie with my face on its targeting radar?”

-----tbc-----

Chapter 6
McGuire house Tuesday 1430
Everything had gone just as Beth told me it would happen. I walked into homeroom this morning only to have Ms. Reed send me down to the Guidance office. I walked in and was told Miss. Benchley would see me in a few minutes. Five minutes later Miss. Benchley called me back to her new office. She greeted me with a smile. The office we were using was Carson’s old office. Miss. Benchley informed me that she was the new Head Guidance Counselor. It was with a mile-wide smile that she handed me my new schedule.

I had to ask her how she was able to shuffle the schedules around for more than eighty students. She was honest with her answer. “I just sent out a student wide email asking for volunteers to change classes with your pit crews. We actually had to turn away students we had so many volunteers. Between myself, Coach Hall, Mrs. Croswell, and Mr. Bowey we were able to make the needed changes in time for this morning.”

Miss Benchley printed out my new schedule and handed it to me. As I looked it over she explained what had been changed and what I was now required to take. “Now, here is your new schedule. As you can see we changed your homeroom, and first period is now History with Miss. Fechner, followed by Social Studies with Mr. Johnson, and your last class U.S. Government with Mr. Harper.”

I thanked her and headed out for my new homeroom and first class of the day. I went through the three periods of the day with a smile. I just went to each class showed the teacher my new schedule and took a seat. I noticed that most of my classes were made up of the members from my pit crews. Only one teacher commented on this, Mr. Harper. I wasn’t surprised by his reaction. He was known for hating sudden changes mid-semester. I think it has something to do with his P.T.S.D. Mr. Harper is a highly decorated Marine Corp vet. He served in Desert Storm, was part of the NATO Peacekeepers in Somalia, and Bosnia. He has seen some real heavy-duty shit during his time. I really respect the man.

At the end of third period I went back to my locker and got the books that I wouldn’t need any longer. I spent the next two hours going around to the different classes and teachers turning in those unneeded books. I also told them how much I would miss being in their classes. Only one asked why the sudden withdrawal. I explained that I was now enrolled in the work study program and they congratulated me on the success. I thanked her then I walked out the front door of the school with a smile.

I drove around town for a while to unwind before heading home. As I entered the house it was to the sounds of three voices being raised in surprise and frustration. I recognized two of the three voices right away as belonging to mom and Beth. The third voice also belonged to that of a woman. A woman that I didn’t know. I followed the sounds of their voices down the hallway to mom’s home office. I passed Joey along the way.

“Word of advice, Robbie. Run. And don’t look back. Run as fast as you and your Judge can go. Red line the engine sis.”

“It can’t be that bad?” I said.

“They’ve been in there since ten o’clock, Robbie. They have only calmed down once in all that time.” The look Joey gave me let me know he was serious.

“Just who is in there with mom and Beth?” I need to know who I was going to be dealing with or running from.

“Your fashion and style consultant, Madame Isabella La Fayette. The crazy bitch came in this morning while we were at school and has been waiting for you to get home.” Joey pulled me into a tight hug. “RUN. My dear sibling. Save yourself before it is too late.”

I pushed the lug head away with a smile and a chuckle. I had to have little fun with the situation and my brother. So, with a straight face and in a solemn tone I said as I pushed him. “Go on and get out of here, Joey. I’ll cover your retreat in case the crazy lady gets ideas towards you. Remember my sacrifice dear brother. It shall not be in vain.”

Joey chuckled. “I see that your smartass bone is warmed up and running full tilt pushing the red line. Just remember that I warned you.” With that Joey headed for the front of the house. “Tell mom she can find me over at Mike’s.”

“Sure thing, Joey. Don’t worry I’ve got you covered. You staying over for dinner?” I called out to him. Only to have him wave his arm at my question. I squared my shoulders and walked into mom’s office. With my smartass bone still running I called out cheerfully as I entered the room. “Oh, mother dear! I’m home!”

“FINALY!” The woman that had been raising so much commotion with mom and Beth spun around to face me. She stood around six-foot and plus a little more thanks to her high-heels. The damn things had to be at least six-inches. She had silver hair, not gay, silver, purple eyes, and is skinny as a toothpick. I am not joking here. The woman had absolutely no fat anywhere. She looked like one of those Twiggy Models from the 70’s. She was wearing what could only be a designer original business dress suit in dark gray. “Where have you been? I do not have time to waste with unprofessional children. Turn around. Well come on. I don’t have all day now.”

I looked up at the crazy bitch and snarled. I had already balled my hands into fists. I was in a good mood, but this bitch just hit my fuck off and die button. “Back off bitch before you end up missing more than a few teeth and a nice fat dentist bill.”

“Ah, such fire! Bertha was right. This one shall be a real challenge for me. First, we get rid of the tomboy clothes. From now, only dresses, skirts, and heels. Second, two days of the week, I will personally work with her on her walk.” The crazed bitch must not have seen the death glare in my eyes but mom sure as hell did. I was now ready to just punch the bitch out and to say to the hell with it all, then score some beer off the guys in the garage.

“Isabella, dear. I think that we need to give Roberta a few seconds to grasp who you are dear.” Mom warned the woman. Only to have Isabella look at her with questioning eyes. “Robbie, is not your normal young lady, Isabella. She was not threating you with bodily harm. She was promising you with bodily harm. Robbie doesn’t play well with others. This is your only warning.”

Isabella, looked me over slowly. “I see what you mean Jewels. If I did not know better, I would swear that your daughter is ready to kill me.”

“She is ready to kill, Isabella. Roberta, does not play. Nor does she responded well to orders from strangers. I suggest that you introduce yourself and start over.” I wanted to pound mom as she was basically ordering me to give the crazy bat a second chance. Wither I wanted to or not.

“Allow me to introduce myself young lady, Isabella La Fayette. Stylist and image consultant for Mercedes-Benz and you my dear.” As Isabella talked I picked up her slight Orléanais French accent.

I smiled and took the hand she held out. “Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“I highly doubt that you feel that way Roberta. I can tell that you do not take kindly to people telling you how to live your life. Especially those that would try to mold you into what they consider is a proper lady.” Isabella snarkly answered back.

“I don’t know about being a proper lady, but I do know how to drive. That should be all that matters.” I said as I kept my eyes on her like a hawk.

“My dear, I quite agree with you. All that should matter is your talent. Yet to the world you appear to be a ravishing beauty just waiting to take her first steps down the runway. That is what they see child, not what you wish for them to see. Which is your talent behind the wheel of a Formula one racer. Not even I with all my knowledge of fashion and design can change that, my dear.”

As much as I wanted to tell the woman to piss off she was only telling the truth. Hell, Sharron spent the last two years driving that point home for me. The thought about Doc Sharron gave me an idea. One that could very well work for a compromise of sorts.

“What would you say to a tomboy look that was less boy and more girl, Mrs. La Fayette?”

The fashion plate known as Isabella La Fayette gave me a curious glance. “What do you have in mind young lady?”

“I know that you have this idea of putting me in skirt, dresses, and high-heels. Well, that ain’t going to work. Not all the time. I will wear them when appropriate. But for day to day what would you say to skinny jeans, blouses, and riding boots?” I knew that I had to make some concessions to how I looked. But I wasn’t going to go all girly-girl. Not if I could help it. I figured that if I could come up with a style similar to what I saw Sharron on those days when she just came from the farm I would be good to go. I just had to convince this crazy bitch.

Isabella scratched her refined chin with the forefinger of her left hand. “A very interesting concept young lady. Do you think you can show me a few ideas of what you’re talking about?”

Damn. I hadn’t figured on her pulling something like this. “I guess I could. Let me go get my tablet.”

“I know what you’re talking about Robbie. I’ve spent enough time around Doc Sharron and you. You’re talking about going with that whole Equestrian look of hers. Aren’t you?” Beth said with a smile. She already had her tablet out and was taping away. When she was done she turned her tablet to show Isabella. “This is what my dear sister is getting at, Madam Isabella.”

Beth had pulled up four pictures of women dressed much the way that I had seen Sharron on more than one occasion. Even I liked the look that Beth had come up with. It was feminine yet not too feminine. Just the right balance between the tomboy look and how I pictured a refined lady of culture. Much like Doc Sharron.

“Yes, that could work.” Isabella looked at Beth’s tablet with an interest that bordered on obsessed. “With her natural beauty she could very well set a fashion trend among the upper-class teens.”

Then she looked over at me. “That is if you can pull the look off. You would need to be extremely brave and defiant for this look.”

I looked Isabella in the eyes and chuckled. “I drive a Formula One racer to the edge. I got plenty of guts and as for defiance. Let’s just say that I have never been one to follow the sheep people. If I can face down and survive cancer, wearing something like that all the time is nothing.”

“Such fire! Such passion for life! I shall truly enjoy working with and your sister Roberta. Fire and Ice! Two such dynamic personalities within the same family.” Isabella turned to mom. “Jewels when the girls are not racing I due hope that you will let me sign them to a modeling contract?”

“Sorry Issy. This is one time that your models are truly spoken for a head of time.” Mom just chuckled as I gave her a sideways glance. “Yes dear. Isabella and I are old friends. Don’t let that fake accent of hers throw you. She grew up in Pelion, South Carolina before going to USC.”

“WAIT! WHAT?! You mean to tell me that Madam Isabella isn’t really from France?” Beth screamed out.

“Beth, I love you, but you should have picked up on it faster than your brother did. After all you took six years of French and spent a year as a foreign exchange student in the country.” Mom was doing her best to not giggle at the look on Beth’s face.

“But that was in Lyon. She’s been using a Orléanais accent.” Beth complained just before she started to pout. “She cheated.”

“Honey child, like the old sayin’ goes. If ya’ ain’t cheaten’ ya’ ain’t tryin’.” Isabella cracked in her real accent. One so thick it could only be the real South Carolinian accent. No one can fake something like that no matter how hard they try. I couldn’t help myself and busted out laughing. “Now there’s a real smile. Goods to sees ya’ h’ves one child.”

“Mom, please make her stop already. I’m going to pee my pants.” I was laughing so hard at this cultured and refined woman who came from the backwoods of South Carolina. That I was close to losing control of my bladder.

“Far enough Bobbie Lee. I’ll leave the wiseass routine for another time. As it is, we have much to do today.” Isabella had dropped her accents completely now. “If you would like we can get started with your new wardrobe. I understand that you have little to no female clothing to choose from. Is this correct?”

I just nodded my head sadly. “It’s not like I want to look like a girl. If I had my way you would be working with someone built like my younger brother ma’am.”

“Look I understand the situation you’re in here Bobbie Lee. I have worked with a few trans models in my time.” I stood there with my mouth hanging open like a big mouth bass. I was so surprised at hearing there were transgender models. “Yup, you heard right. There are a number of transgender models in the industry. Some of them even work the big fashion weeks in Milan, Paris, New York and L.A. I have had the pleasure of working with those fine women on more than one occasion.”

“May I know what gave me away other than the way I was dressed? Most people just look at me and see a teenage girl still in her tomboy phase. That’s without trying.” I really wanted to know what tipped her off to the fact that I was a boy.

Isabella gave me a sad smile. “I have know your mother for longer than you or your sister have been alive Roberta. I remember every time she got pregnant and what she had. I know for a fact that she only had one daughter and two boys. I also know that her oldest son almost died from cancer. That was you. You see it was nothing that you did that tipped me off. I had an unfair advantage with insider info. Besides your mother was the one to contact me not the Mercedes-Benz people to be your fashion consultant.”

“How did you and mom meet Isabella?” Beth asked.

“Jewellianna, and I.” mom screamed to the top of her lungs when Isabella used her full name. I almost died laughing.

“ISABELLA! Don’t you even go there! They don’t need to know the sordid story of our meeting damn you. And don’t ever use that name around my children again. Not if you want to live that is.”

“Okay, relax Jewels. I won’t tell them that we met because of a fight over a boy in the campus student union.” Isabella just giggled at the look of pure death mom was giving her. “Oh please, Jewels, it’s not like they don’t know the man. He is their father after all. I would say that you got the better deal.”

“True. I did marry Robert while you went on to marry Patrick La Fayette from Orleans France. Speaking of which how is Patrick?” mom asked of her. Only to get a dark look in return.

“On his third, no fourth wife now. I swear the man hasn’t a loyal bone in his body. Not that it matters I got the name and the property in our divorce settlement. Like the old saying goes. I got the gold, he got the shaft.” I couldn’t believe the cold rage this woman held towards her ex-husband. Then again, they say that there is nothing like a woman scorned and that goes double for a southern bell whose been cheated on.

Isabella turned back to me with a much softer look in her eyes. “I think we need to start with the basics for today. First off, I want you two girls to just call me Issy. Ma’am, Madam, Miss, Mrs. and Isabella are all too formal. We will be working too close together for such formality. Understood kiddos?”

Beth and I just nodded our heads yes. “Good, now then. Where to start? Better yet who to start with? Suggestions?”

Beth pounced on the question like a hungry puma. “We should start with Bobbie. She needs the most help.”

“That is true, Beth.” Mom said as she looked at me. “Well Bobbie? You made the choice for your new look. Ready to take the plunge?”

As much as I want to fight it I knew that it was hopeless. I was outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered by these three very determined females. I thought about what Joey had said when I ran into him in the hall. I was wondering if I should have taken his advice. I could have been on the other side of Florence just making the merge onto SC-544 heading for Myrtle Beach by now.

“If we’re going to get to ‘Equine Now’ before they close we need to get a move on. According to their website their store hours are from ten to six Monday through Thursday, ten to eight Friday and Saturday, closed on Sundays.” I wanted to pound Beth for being so helpful just then. I could have sworn she was more excited at the thought of me becoming her sister. Than getting a new wardrobe.

“Before we go I need to give Bobbie something to help hide her uniqueness below the waist.” Isabella told everyone quickly. “Bobbie, I hope you are not bashful?”

Isabella took me by the hand. “Show me to your room dear. I have something that will help you present a far more feminine appearance in tight pants and skirts.”

“Issy, do I need to be in there?” Mom asked.

“I trust her mom. If something feels even the least bit off don’t worry. Issy will be the one in need of medical attention.” I let all three know then and there I would use violence if pushed. Not that, that option had ever been off the table. The look Isabella gave me was one that spoke values. I had to trust this woman. She was placing her reputation in my hands. “Let’s go Issy.”

Once in my bedroom Issy turned to me with the bag she had brought with her. I watched as she pulled out a cellophane package with a flesh colored garment sealed inside. She handed me the package. “This is known in the industry as a gaff, Bobbie. It’s like a tight pair of thong panties. It will hold your testicles up inside of you and your penis down between your legs. Now, there is a few things that you need to do first. So, go ahead and strip from the waist down. Then I will show you what you need to know.”

To say the next fifteen minutes were the most embarrassing of my young life would be an understatement. Isabella must have worked with a lot of t-girls in the modeling industry. Because she had me tucked up and gaffed in five minutes. Then she reversed things and had me do them. At first the feeling of pushing my one testicle up inside of me felt strange. After making me go through the process five times Isabella felt that I no longer needed her help. The truth was I could do with easy by the time I got dressed again. Only this time she handed me a pair of Beth’s jeggings.

For the first time I started to realize that this was my future. I felt the fear of discovery start to grip me as I peered into the mirror on my door. Staring back at me from the mirror was not a boy in his sister’s clothes. No, what I saw in the mirror was a teenage girl. Who without any makeup was dropped dead gorgeous. Isabella stepped up behind me and started to first brush out my hair and then plat it into a tight French braid.

Once she was done I wrapped a belt around my waist over the shirt that I was wearing. With the hem hanging out and the jeggings I looked like a teenage version of Arlene “Tuny” Page already. The moment I started to actually dress along the lines I wanted. I really would look like a teenage version of Tuny Page.

“I see it too, Bobbie.” Isabella said from behind me. I looked up at her in the mirror. “I was one of the consultants for the US Dressage Team in twenty-sixteen. Come on we need to be going.”

She handed me a purse that would replace my wallet, keys, and other needed items. “Why don’t you drive dear? It would be good for your nerves and help you regain some control.”

Isabella must be a mind reader. Because I truly did feel as if I was on a runaway freight train. Beth smiled as we entered the living room. Mom just stopped dead in her tracks. “Damn, baby sis! I knew you would look good. But I would have never thought you would look this good.”

“Just wait until I have her dressed in her new style and a short stop to get her hair done. Then we shall truly see the butterfly that has been hiding under the guise of a tomboy.” The pride in Isabella’s voice at my impending transformation was scary.

“Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.” I grumbled and headed for the door. “I’m driving.”

Mom and Beth scrambled to catchup with us as I slid behind the wheel of my Judge. Even as they were struggling to get in the backseat and passenger seats I already had the big engine turning over. I needed to feel some control over my life. The only way I was going to get that right now was driving. I knew where we were going as I had seen ‘Equine Now’ on the other side of town during more than one rat race. It sat at the corner of Grant and Akine.

Even as I pulled out onto the street I could feel my nerves settling. I reached over and hit the play button on my stereo. The first song on the play list fit my mood perfectly. Mom must have been reading my mind. “Keep it down Roberta! No need to split the pavement just because you’re upset.”

I kept my foot out of the gas despite the sounds of Glenn Fry’s Smuggler Blues drifting from the speakers. I knew that I could have reached the store in fifteen minutes. Yet it took us almost forty-five minutes because mom won’t let me open up the Judge to run wild. I wish that I had made Beth bring the two adults in her car. That way I could have burned off my nerves with a little high-speed therapy on the streets of Darlington.

As it was we made it to ‘Equine Now’ with plenty of time to spare. Even then we were in the store for the better part of two hours. I tried on everything from jodphurs, breeches, tights, to casual polo blouses with short or long sleeves. Show shirts and jackets. I lost track of everything that I tried on to double check the fit. When it came to shoes and boots that was an experience in and of itself. I had no idea what my shoe size was in women’s, so the sales clerk measured my feet to double check. I was shocked to learn that I wore a woman’s size seven. After that it was tall field boots to tall dress boots to paddock boots. I don’t know what all Isabella and mom picked out from the clothing, but I picked out the boots that would be bought. I got three pairs of tall field boots, a pair each in, black, brown, and burgundy. I also picked out two pairs of paddock boots one in black and one dark brown. I know that it doesn’t sound like much but for me to pick out those five pairs of boots was a big step for me.

When we finally stopped shopping and when up to the register to pay and check out I was brought up short. The piles of clothing were huge. There were ten pairs of breeches, ten pairs jodphurs, twenty some casual blouses, four dress shirts, two dress jackets, three casual jackets, five pairs of boots, twenty pairs of socks, not to mention the fourteen pairs of sport bras and breeches liners that I hadn’t tried on. I was floored when the total reached the better part of three grand and was growing. Thankfully the manager came out when the staff noticed we were making such a massive purchase. The man gave mom a thirty percent discount on everything but the underwear and socks.

I took one pair of liners, breeches, socks, a casual blouse, and the black field boots out of the pile. I handed over the tags for them to be rang up and returned to the changing rooms. For some reason I wanted to wear my own clothes out of the store. When I returned Isabella was handing over a credit card. When I went to look at the total I was told that it was none of my business.

“Issy, it is my business. I have to pay for this stuff sooner or later. I need to know how deep I’m in debt.” I argued.

“This is a onetime expenditure on the part of Mercedes-Benz through your fashion consultant. I have been fully authorized to cover all costs of getting you and your sister presentable for the next week. See, no cost to you or your family.” Isabella smiled and signed the receipt. “Come on give us a hand getting all of this out to the car. We still have one more stop to make tonight before we’re done.”

I just sighed and did as I was told. I had hoped that Isabella would have said something about me changing. I guess to her it was just something I should have done. Picking up four of the bags I headed outside to my car. I found mom and Beth out there already with the trunk open. I placed the bags I was carrying inside next to the others. Mom handed me my purse and keys before hugging me.

“You look beautiful dear. I cannot wait to see the finished product. Isabella said you would turn out beautiful but even I had my doubts. That was until I saw you come out the changing room. You look like one of those runway models now.”

“I don’t know mom. I mean I just wanted to wear something that was mine. Not a hand-me-down from Beth.” I whispered.

“I understand love. We have to trust Issy. I know that she can be a flirt and a little flighty, but she really does know what she is doing. I take it that you were expecting some kind of reaction out of her when you came out?”

“Hay, I kind of was, but she just looked at me an acted like it was business as usual. I thought that she would have at least said good job. It just nothing.” I bitched.

“That is because we are not yet done, my little demon of speed.” Isabella said with that damned French accent of hers. That was something else that had been bugging the hell out of me.

“Just how many damned accents do you have Issy? I swear I have heard you use no less than four in as many hours.” I said as I round on her. I was getting tired and hungry. Never a good combination when comes to me. Especially if I’m the one whose driving. I have a bad habit of saying fuck it and grabbing gears at the red line.

“Charm School dear.” Was all she said with a proper Boston accent this time. Which really pissed me off. Mom spotted the warning signs and placed a hand on Issy’s shoulder.

“Isabella, I think that you really need to quit tweaking Roberta’s nose right now. She is very close to losing her temper with all of us, dear. That and I am pretty sure she is hungry.”

“You got that right mom. Now give me some answers lady or walk.” I snarled out. Then slammed the trunk closed. “Get in you can talk on the way to Micky D’s.”

Needless to say, my vote overruled any thoughts of going elsewhere just then. As we were driving Isabella answered my questions about her background. I want to know more about her experience as a fashion consultant and where she got her start.

“For starters, Bobbie, I was born, raised, and went to school right here in South Carolina. I attended USC and majored in business. That is where I met your mother, father, and ex-husband. As for how many accents I have that is something I keep under closely guarded access.” The look I tossed over at her let her I was done playing. “I have five dear. All thanks to one of the finest Charm Schools in the South. The first of which is the one I grew up with good old South Carolina redneck. I learned French and Charlestonian next. After that I studied how to sound like a right proper Yorkshire Lady, and finally a Bostonian Yankee.”

“I got to ask why?”

“Each one helps in my line of business Bobbie. There are people out there that will judge you just by the way that you sound over a telephone. Learn and cultivate more than one accent girls. I know that is it sounds crazy, but sadly it is the truth. Just ask your dear mother back there. I know for a fact that she is sitting on three more accents than I have.”

“Thanks a lot, Issy. I didn’t want the girls to know that about me. Before you ask girls, I can use the following accents starting with Berlin, Paris, Moscow, New York, Cincinnati, Boston, Rome, and of course Charleston ya know.” Mom was switching from accent to accent as she named them. Which got both me and Beth giggling.

“Damn mom I never knew you could do something like. Why have you been hiding it from us?” Beth asked.

“Because I had hoped you girls would never really need to learn the skill. Unfortunately, I believe that you may have too in the long run. The good ‘old boy’ system is still holding on in the corporate world. Even among the International companies.” Mom sighed then looked at me. “Tell me what brought on the sudden pissing contest Robbie.”

I sighed. Then in a voice barely above a whisper. “It was the way that one sales clerk was looking at me.”

It took mom, Beth, and Isabella a few second to realize what I was getting at. When they did none of them laughed like I expected. Mom gave me an apologetic look. “Was that the first time a boy ever looked at you in that way?”

“Yes ma’am.” I whispered.

“Darling, I hate to tell you this, but you are a very beautiful young lady. Even now with no makeup, your hair done in such a simple style, and the right clothes for your body you will turn heads. This is the curse that all beautiful women face. A curse that you were never prepared for, and now must face.” Mom explained as I turned into the parking lot of Mickey D’s. “Let me get our order, you all find a table.”

After I parked we headed inside. I quickly found a table and sat down. Mom showed up with my normal number one a few minutes later. We eat in peaceful quiet. No one really gave me a second look. It wasn’t until we got to leave that things went pear shaped. Jake Tidwell the star Power Forward for B.S. High School spotted us. I should say he spotted me.

“There’s that god damned little fag now.” He yelled. “McGuire you’re a dead man, you little she male slut.”

That was it I had had enough. Then something happened I wasn’t expecting. “Young man if you are referring to my protégée I suggest to curb that tongue of yours.”

All eyes turn on Isabella as she slowly walked up and stood glaring down at Jake. “I believe that you owe this establishment an apology boy. You can start with me.”

Jake just stared at Isabella then chuckled. “Look Frenchy, why don’t you take your sorry worn out ass back to faggot Paris. This is between me and the little cocksucker.”

Jake started to crack his knuckles as his team mates stood up to join him. “Thanks to your sorry ass we all got put on probation until we bring our grades. It’s bad enough that whore you call a mother got our coach fired. Sticking us with that pansy Cutter until the end of the season. We had it made fairy. The teachers did as they were told, and we ran the school. Now thanks to you we got to actually study. That doesn’t even take in the fact we’re no longer eligible for State shit packer.”

Oh yeah. Jake and the basketball team were worked up. The more that Jacky boy ran his mouth the madder they were getting. “Mom, Beth, Issy, head for the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I placed myself between them and the basketball players. “Okay, Jake for starters I had nothing to do with what happen to your coach. Neither did my mother. Speaking of which if you ever call her a whore again. I’ll let your old man know how you feel about women. I’m pretty sure he’ll tan your hide just for shits and grins. Next thing you need to know is I had nothing to do with you and the team getting nailed for poor grades. Why don’t you fuck heads grow up for once? I will give you all a piece of advice before I leave. The days of boosters and team owners covering for player is over. Now days what you do off the court is ten times more important that what you do on the court.”

With that I turned and walked out the door. I knew that my blunt attack had bought me and my family a few minutes. By the time the meatheads realized that I had just slammed the fuck out of them we should be on the streets. Out where their numbers mean nothing. Where I am the one with all the advantages. Where I rule.

I got my car started backed up and over to the main street exit just as the basketball team came poring out of Mickey D’s. I smiled and pulled down my five-point harness. Mom who was sitting in the front seat next to me saw this and quickly did the same. All while saying. “Oh shit! Issy strap in tight. It’s all over now but the challenge. Take them out beyond the quarry Roberta.”

“Not happening mom. Once they get on my ass I’m taking them out to Benjamin Harris Road.” The fact that I was already planning on how I was going to handle the situation had mom chuckling. Benjamin Harris Road ran right in front of our garage. Even Beth in the back seat knew what I was up to. I waited for them to get to their cars before pulling out onto the street. Soon they were pulling in all-round me and I was smiling. Their asses were mine. They just didn’t know it yet.

Mom turned her attention to the lights as I started to rev my engine. I kept my left foot light on the clutch while the right foot paddled the throttle. With my left hand on the wheel and my right hand on the shift lever I couldn’t hit my playlist. Not that it would matter. I wouldn’t need the music to keep the beat for the race. That’s when mom does something totally unexpected. She punched the play button grinning. “No prisoners baby girl.”

“Yes ma’am. Beth call the shop. They’re about to get a shit load of business in about fifteen minutes.”

“No Roberta. Change of plans. Take them out to the quarry. Beth have the crews meet us there. They want to force a fight in a public place. Let’s not give them one. On the green.”

I looked over at mom quickly and saw all I need to. She was pissed. In her mind this was no longer a matter for the police. We would handle this as a family matter. Beth for her part just started dealing the shop. When the light turned green I flipped off Jake in the car next to me and popped the clutch. As the sounds of Deepthchager44’s ‘Burn it to the ground’ filled the air. I knew that mom was going to reem my ass over that song but didn’t care. It was just what I needed to hear.

I headed for the old quarry outside of town, slip sliding my way through the evening traffic as fast as it would allow. I knew that I was taking a major risk, but those shitheads had push things to this point. The shitty part was the local pigs would cover for them. This was something that mom knew all too well. It was time for the McGuire Clan to put an end to the bullshit in her mind.

Me, I was all to happy to give mom what she wanted. I would play rabbit to their wolf pack. The only problem was this rabbit had teeth and claws. When you looked at my Pontiac GTO J model you would see a restored to factory specs car. Trust me my Judge was anything but factory specs. I had more than fourteen-grand in modifications under that body. Mods that would allow me to pull shit straight out of Fast and Furious. Any of them. This was one Judge that could drift with the best of them and still win. When the next song come up I realized that mom hit the play button for a downloaded mix of anime fan remixes.

One of the modifications I did on the inside was to place finger controls on the steering wheel for the stereo. I cracked up the volume as Lithium Flower for Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C. 2nd GIG, was blaring from my speakers. The louder the music got the faster I drove. The faster I drove the more stress I released. I was working the shifter and gears of my car in ways they were never meant to be worked. I knew that I would have to replace the rear tires and half the gears in my transmission after this run. Sadly, I didn’t care one fucking bit. I was having fun.

“Jesus Christ, Robbie! I knew you were good, but this is fucking crazy! Slow down already. You proved your point!” Beth screamed from the back seat as I drifted through the hairpin turn on Old Foxx Run Road. I just smiled wider and grabbed another gear as I upshifted coming out of the turn.

Gone was the detached teenage girl with the bad attitude. In her place was a demon of speed looking for his next meal. Sadly, the basketball for my high school had decided that they would be that meal. When Jake Tidwell slipped in front of me I dropped my speed and grabbed a lower gear. Just so I could get right on his bumper. I was going to put him in the ditch at eighty plus. If his car didn’t rollover, then all the better. If it did then mission accomplished. I wasn’t out to kill the fuck head. Just teach him a lesson in manners at high speeds.

“NOW!” Mom yelled from her seat next to me. I pushed Jake into a one-eighty slide that put him into the ditch. We passed him doing ninety-five and climbing. Mom must have reached the same point as me because she started calling out turns and warnings for the other cars. With her help I was able to push the Judge to its limits. I don’t know where the cops were and didn’t care. These shitheads were my meat and I was hungry. We blew passed the garage for the gearheads at top speed. I knew that I would catch hell come tomorrow morning from that crowd for doing what I had just bitched them out for the other day. But then again, I was running for my life with my family in the car.

We cleared the outer edge of town and were finally on quarry road. I owned the assholes now. I just had to reach the old quarry ahead of them. Which wouldn’t be a problem. I let the monster I had under the hood howl and grabbed my top end gear. Nothing left to do but drag these assholes into the quarry behind me. The opening sounds for Kenny Loggin’s epic speed song Danger Zone rocked out of the speakers. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect if I had tried.

“GO! SPEEDY! GO! DROP THE HAMMER GIRL!” Isabella screamed out.

“DO IT BABY GIRL! DO IT!” Came from Beth.

“NOW! BOBBIE! NOW!” Mom shouted at me.

I heard none of them. I only heard the music and felt the beat. I had long ago lost myself to the race and the thundering beat of the music. This was where I lived now. This is where the cancer cannot touch me. I do this not to escape from Death. No, I do this to face the bastard down on my terms. This is where I fight back for the ones like little Lee, Lisa, and Christen who can’t fight. I know that I take it the razor’s edge of insanity sometimes when I get behind the wheel. I have to, just so that I know I’m alive at times. That is why I race the way I do.

I know that if Sharron ever found out about the way I drive when I race she would lock my ass up and throw away the key. I can still see that fucker’s boney face in my dreams coming for me. I can feel the cold grip of his fleshless fingers on my heart in my nightmares. Only when I am pushing myself to the edge do I realize that I beat the fucker, like now. Only now do I truly feel alive.

I must have been laughing as I pulled the last drift into the quarry. The basketball team was so far behind me that it was pathetic. I could have shown mercy and let them keep my tail lights in sight. Yet for some strange reason I just didn’t have it in me to care. I had been pushing my car to its limits for the past eighteen minutes and never once lost control. I look up ahead and see dad with the rest of the men from our shop. Time to shut it down. I slide into a one-eighty drift and bleed off a good amount of my speed before coming to a stop.

“Holy shit! I was wrong. This girl is beyond crazy.” Isabella staggered out of the back seat. “When you said she could drive I had no idea that you meant like a mad woman. Jewels your daughter is going to break hearts and records when she finally hits the circuit. Screw getting her more clothes and a makeover. Get her a fucking chastity belt.”

I wasn’t paying her any attention. I was waiting for the asshats of the basketball team to show. I didn’t have to wait long as the seven remaining cars of the team pulled to stop in the quarry. Dad and the rest of the men from the garage surrounded them before they had a chance to turn around or get out of their cars. The men were pulling the teenagers from their cars faster than they knew what was going on. I wasn’t going to get in their way. Mom on the other hand had death in her eyes. She wanted one Jake Tidwell’s balls in her purse. And she wasn’t going to be thwarted.

I watched in horror as mom grabbed the boy by the crotch. She pulled him up on his toes. The snarl was just short of animalistic. “Keys, and registration little boy.”

Tidwell and the others quickly got the hint. When mom let Tidwell go the boy pissed himself in fear. Because dad grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “The next time you fuck with my family boy, you deal with me. I won’t be taking your fucking car either. I be taking your god damn worthless life. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and bury your sorry asses out here.”

I watched as the basketball team all took off at a dead run. I knew that this wasn’t over. I knew that they would run home to mommy and daddy. Then we would have to deal with the sheriff. That was until they got stopped by mine and Beth’s pit crews. The ass beatings started hard and fast. I wanted to run over and join in on the fun, but dad stopped me.

“Let your pit crews handle this baby girl. It’s what they’re supposed to do in the first place.”

“What does that mean daddy?” I throw the daddy crack in there because of the baby girl comment.

“Pit crews take care of and protect their drivers first and foremost Bobbie. This is just them getting an early start is all.” Jim Hailee told me before pointing at the five wreckers waiting off to one-side. “We’ll pick up your new trophies. Where do you want them to go?”

“The VFW is holding a charity auction next week for Saint Jude’s. Give them the cars. They should be able to get a grand for each one. Especially if those fuck nuts want to buy their cars back.” I suggested which brought about a round of chuckles. Not only were the basketball team going to pay to get their cars back but help out a worthy charity in the process. Not that I cared, but that hospital does good work and they need the help. As far as I was concern the basketball team could fucking walk. It would do them some good. I turned when I heard mother cough. “Yes ma’am?”

I knew I was in trouble because mom had her arms crossed. The problem was I didn’t know what for. “I believe we need to have a little talk about the music you’ve been down loading Robert.”

I only had two words to say to that. “Oh shit.” There went my Internet privileges for at least a month. If not more.

“I want a copy for my own use.” Mom said.

-----tbc-----

Chapter 7
Humpday madness is all the rage.

I know that I should have expected it, but nothing can really prepare one for the sudden rush of WFT from people. My day started off slightly different than normal. First of all, when I got up this morning I found that none of my old male clothing was in my closet, chest drawers, and dresser. In their place was nothing but the female clothing we had bought last night. I must have really been out of it after we got home. The last thing I really remember was mom, Issy, and Beth helping me haul everything in from the car. Then Issy saying something about making room for my new wardrobe. I guess that meant throwing out all of my male clothing. Those bitches will pay for that, I promise.

Anyway, with nothing else to wear and needing to get dressed for school I gave up the fight for now. With gaff, panties, bra, and tights I threw on my robe and headed for the bathroom take my morning shower. I was even more surprised to find my Old Spice shampoo and bodywash replaced with something out the girly-girl section of Bath and Body works. Crap that Beth would use. I was more than a little tempted to rebel and use Joey’s shower stuff but knew that it was a useless battle. Sooner or later I would be stuck using the crap, so I just gave up the fight. For now.

After showering, and drying my hair, I headed back to my room to finish dressing. It didn’t take me long to find something to wear for the day. The tan breeches, light blue turtle neck, and tall field boots would do the trick for today. Little did I know the impact my choice of clothing would have on the student body of BSHS. As I had pulled into the parking lot Joey spotted a couple of the gearheads waving us towards the front row. Not really understanding what they wanted I followed their directions. I knew that they won’t try something stupid in the parking lot. They may be dumb at times, but they were never that dumb, usually.

As I pulled onto the front row where the reserved spots were for the student council, head cheer leader, and the other privileged few, standing in the empty spot next to the band’s Majorite reserve spot, was Thomas Hart, Mike Sorenson, Dale Cartwright, and John Foxx. When they saw my car they started to wave me into the spot. Not one to pass up a good spot I quickly backed my car in. Yes, I said backed. I had always believed in pulling out of a parking spot head first. No way was I going to let some jackass rear end me in a parking lot if I could help it. Once parked Joey bailed out as usual to go find his friends. I took a deep breath and opened my door after grabbing my purse and keys.

As I stood to face the four main gearheads I wasn’t expecting to see what I did. All four stood there looking at me with the WTF face in full effect. None of them seemed to recognize me. In fact, Thomas didn’t. the boy actually demanded to know where I got MY car from. When I told him it was mine he said no way in hell could that car be mine. That it belonged to Robby McGuire not some girl. He and the other three were so set on the idea that I had either stole or bought my car off of me that it was too funny. I finally had to take out my driver’s license to show them that it was indeed me. That I hadn’t lost or sold my car.

If it hadn’t been for the intervention of Kelly and a few of the female members of the pit crews I doubt that Thomas and the gearheads would have believed me. My new appearance had even more of an impact on them. Kathy, Cassy, Sherry, and Charlotte were right there with Kelly as they all got the first real good look at the new me. My worse fears were realized the moment the four cheerleaders found out that I wasn’t wearing makeup. They grabbed me by the arms and dragged me into the school and to the nearest girls’ restroom. Talk about your ambush makeovers.

When I was finally allowed to step foot again in the hallways of BSHS the plane Jane look that I started the morning with was gone. In its place was a teenage beauty queen. Talk about turn heads just by walking a hallway. I hadn’t gone more than seventy feet down the main hall than Principal Corely stopped me with a confused look on his face.

“Excuse me young lady, but you need to sign in at the office. We have a policy concerning visitors. If you will please follow me?” Kelly started to giggle at hearing this. Kathy, Cassy, Sherry, and Charlotte weren’t far behind her in their own giggle fits. Mr. Corely gave them all a disapproving look. “This is not a laughing matter ladies. That policy is in place for your protection.”

“Mr. Corely you really need to take a second look at who you’re trying to keep out.” Kelly managed between giggle fits. “She is one of the students.”

“Miss. Ringwald, I know every student in this school.” Mr. Corely looked over at me. “And I can assure you that I do not know this young lady.”

I sighed and gave the man a dirty look. “Mr. Corely not only am I a student here, but I have been for the last two years. It’s me Robbie McGuire.”

It was like a light went off in his head as he finally recognized me. “Oh my! I must say Miss McGuire when I was informed of your change in status that I was most definitely wasn’t expecting such a dramatic change in appearance. Wait that didn’t come out right. What I meant to say.”

I saved the poor man any more embarrassment. After all he was a decent guy. “I understand what you’re getting at sir. Trust me, I wasn’t this dramatic of a change either. Personally, I blame my girlfriend and the ladies of my pit crew. They went and ambushed me in the parking lot for a makeover.”

The dirty looks I threw the girls got Mr. Corely laughing. “I would imagine so Robbie. Before you head to class why don’t you come on into the main office. I doubt that your old student id will do you any good anymore. While we’re in there I’ll go ahead and authorize the change in name for grades. No need for you to deal with that after you leave court tomorrow. You are due to be in court tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. I become official tomorrow.” I blushed and looked down at the floor. “I’m really sorry for causing such a stir this morning. I really do have a good reason.”

As Mr. Corely held the door open for me he just waved his hand. “No need to explain Robbie. I read your contract yesterday. Yes, I do go over what my students in the work study program are doing. Unlike that woman, I care what my students are doing with their time in that program. I must say that I was surprised about that particular clause. I never realized that a corporate entity could dictate the appearance of their employees.”

I had to chuckle at the very bluntness of the man. “Mr. Corely, you would not believe what a corporation can get away with in contracts like mine. My lawyers informed me that corporations can even put morality clauses in contracts for employees in the public eye. Why the major league sports franchises don’t use them is beyond this teenager’s understanding.”

“Sorry Robbie, but you don’t fool this old man. I know that you’re smarter than you’re putting on. But you’re right. I believe that if the major league sports franchises used morality clauses like the ones your lawyers talked about ninety percent of major league athletes would quit.” I could tell that I had hit on a passionate subject for Mr. Corely. Then I remembered one of the pictures behind his desk. It was of him and NASCAR legend Jeff Gordon. Not one of those fan poses either. This one taken in a living room somewhere, of the two of them sharing a few beers.

“Mr. Corely, I’m sorry about not getting a NASCAR contract.” I felt that I should apologize for not sticking with the heart of racing in Darlington County. Mr. Corely looked at me for a few seconds then busted out laughing.

“Forget about it Robbie. Just be sure to win one for the school and we’ll call it even. That and send me a signed poster for my wall. I want to rub it in Jeff’s face that I knew you before he did.” Mr. Corely boasted. “Yes, I can see it now. Local girl comes home to the heart of NASCAR after five years in the wilds of Formula one. I’ll be able to brag in more places than just the schoolboard.” That was it.

I busted out laughing. Right in the middle of the main office. If I could have I would have sign the poster then and there. Only I didn’t have any posters, yet. The advertising monkeys weren’t due to show up until next week. That meant the soonest I got a print of the posters would be next month. “You got a deal Mr. Corely. You’ll be the second person to get one. I promised the first one to someone special.”

“Good. I’m glad to see that you have your priorities straight by promising the first one to your girlfriend. I’ll hold you to that promised second one though, Miss. McGuire. No take backs. Understood?”

It took me a second before I realized that Mr. Corely was actually cool with me and Kelly. “Tell me something sir. What’s your stance on LGBT?”

The man sighed before answering me. “Robbie, I don’t care who a person loves or is attracted to. That is their business and none of mine. I live by the words of the great Chinese philosopher Confucius. ‘He who lives in glass house shouldn’t. Especially in day time.’ And ‘Man who makes love to woman on side of hill is not on the level.’ Remember those two sayings and life goes basically on the smooth.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Here was a man in charge of students and he is quoting half-backed jokes for a personal philosophy. He must have seen the confusion and disbelief in my eyes. “Robbie, before I became a teacher I served for ten years in the Army. I learned two very basic lessons in life during that time. One of which you have already learned the hard way. No one lives forever, we all have expiration dates. The other one is one that you need to learn.”

“What is that sir? And by the way thank you for your service. I didn’t know that you spent time in the Army. Why didn’t you stay?” I was actually impressed that there was a second veteran who was a teacher at my school.

“Keep on laughing. Life is the ultimate practical joke. Play on us poor dumb assed humans by a God with a twisted, truly fucked up, sense of humor.” Once again, my eyes bugged out of their sockets. The Principle of my school just cussed in front of a student. “So long as you remember those two rules you can do anything you want in life.”

Mr. Corely walked around behind the reception desk and pointed to the area with the camera. I walked over and stood with my back to the blank wall. He took my picture four times. Separating the pictures into individuals he handed one to Mrs. Miller the school’s secretary. Ten minutes later I had a new student id that reader Roberta L. McGuire. I was expecting the picture to look like the one you get from the DVM but not this one. It actually made me look good.

Mr. Corely handed me a note to show my teachers as I went through the day along with the id. “Just show this to your teachers Robbie. If they have any questions or give you crap. Don’t wait to call for me. Understood, young lady?”

“Yes sir. I hope I won’t have too. You have a good day, sir. You too Mrs. Miller.” I waved to them both as I left the office and headed for homeroom. I wasn’t surprised when I left the office that the girls had gone on to their homerooms. After all I was a professional racecar driver, and a grown teenager. I should be more than able to take care of myself.

My homeroom teacher just gave me a curious look as I entered the room. She must have thought that I was a new student that she hadn’t been informed of yet. Which in a very real way I was a new student. I handed her the note and took my normal seat after she read it, then handed it back. I knew that I was getting more than a few looks from the rest of the room. I decided to just say fuck ‘em and go with the flow. After all this was the new me. If they didn’t like then they could all go to hell and kiss my ass on the way. It was like Mr. Corely said. We all have an expiration date. Something I had indeed learned at a very young age. I watched as too many of the children on the ward were transferred to the hospice center for their final days.

No one asked any questions as to who I was until the end of class. I had a lot of fun with the guys. The second piece of advice from Mr. Corely kept running through my head as they fell all over themselves trying to find out who I was. When I finally broke down and told them it was a true Kodak moment. Maybe it was more like that commercial for Master Card.

Shower and hair, twenty minutes. Getting an ambush makeover by girlfriend and cronies fifteen minutes. Gaff, panties, bra, and tights thirty-seven dollars. Tan breeches one-hundred-twenty dollars. Light blue pullover turtleneck forty dollars. Tall black field boots one-hundred-ninety dollars. The stunned looks of my male classmates priceless.

Needless to say, word quickly spread like wildfire throughout the school that the hot looking new girl was really me. It didn’t take long for the bible thumpers to show their faces after that. Now I have no problem with God or the bible. No my problem is with organized religion and those that use the bible to spread hate. Not just the bible either. I don’t care what your religion is, but if you use God and his word for hate then you can drop dead. I know for a fact that he forgives everyone for their sins. I should know.

I spent enough time around death as a kid fighting cancer. I got to be real good friends with that boney mother fucker before I went into remission. There are times that I can still feel his icy grip on my heart and soul. I guess that’s one of the reasons that I race the way that I do. I lost the fear of dying a long time ago. So, a bunch of born again shit sticks with bad attitudes doesn’t scare me. The only one of that crowd that worries me is the school’s Queen Bee, Sara Rockford.

Sara is not on any of the athletic teams or the cheerleaders, but she is the Homecoming Queen and a shoe in for Prom Queen this year. She has the classical good-looking blond bombshell looks and piss poor attitude to go with them. She is the also the arch typical mean girl. She goes nowhere without her two heads right behind her, Lisa Carter, and Lorrain Smells. Between the two of them they might have a whole operational brain. They did have some redeeming qualities. Both girls knew how to use the Social Networks to get dirt on someone or spread that dirt.

I had just left second period and was heading for my last class of the day they cornered me in the east hallway. Sara lead off the attack as usual. “Who let you in here freak? This school is for God fearing Christians and upstanding morally correct people. Not gutter dwelling scum like you and that dike slut carpet muncher you call a girlfriend.”

I sighed and gave her a sad look. “You know something Sara. For an ignorant redneck self-absorbed condescending cunt, you really need to get a new book of insults. I’ve heard better from that ass wipe wind bag, Reverend Parker.”

Sara’s face was turning red with every word. She was quickly becoming blind with rage. Just as I hoped she would. When she went to slap me, she wasn’t expecting me to catch her hand in mid-swing. I pulled her in close and hissed in her face.

“Pay attention bitch. Pay real close attention, because I’m only going to tell you this once. Stay the fuck away from me, Kelly, and my friends. You don’t want me as your enemy. I’m not like the others in this school. I couldn’t care less about who the fuck is Queen Bee or who is the prettiest. But you come after the people I care about or me, I will end you. Not only will I end your sorry excuse for an existence, but I will take your whole gods be damned family with you.” With twist of my wrist I crank her arm over backwards and pin it there with enough force to send Sara to her knees. Like I said before. I learned how fight from a bunch of rowdy assed mechanics.

I looked up at the rest of her crowd. “Let me be perfectly clear, fuck heads. This is your first, last, and only warning. If what happened to the basketball team hasn’t sunken in yet. Let me break it down for you all. MRDI doesn’t play games. You come at us, and we fight back. Only we do it to fuck win. Nothing is off the board and all is fair in love and war. Like the old saying goes. If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.” I know that I was trying to growl but unfortunately the threat sounded more like a sexy purr.

“Miss. McGuire, I hope that you’re not planning on carrying out that threat on school grounds young lady?” The voice of Mr. Harper behind me was the only thing that kept me from breaking Sara’s arm just then. “I know that you have ample reason for breaking that arm, but this is not the place. Understood?”

Yah, I understood alright. So long as the bible thumping bitch was on school grounds she could act however she wanted. If she didn’t step over the line. As much as I hated it they were protect by the law and rules of the school. Until they stepped over the fucking line. Sadly Mr. Harper would protect the bible thumpers just as much as he would protect me and my crews. I let go of Sara’s arm and stepped back.

“Thank you, Miss. McGuire. I suggest that you take your seat while I deal with your ‘friends’.” I swear I could hear the air quotes when Mr. Harper said friends. I smiled and headed inside the classroom as Mr. Harper lit into the churchy crowd. I guess he must have been a Drill Sergeant at one time. Because I have never heard an ass chewing like the one he was handing out to the churchy bible thumping crowd. Even with the door closed everyone in the classroom could hear the old man going to town. Me, I wanted to cheer him on.

I knew that this wasn’t over with that bunch, especially Sara. That was just something I would have to deal with either on the streets or on the back roads of Darlington county. That was for later though. Right now I needed to just keep my mind on the problem at hand. U.S. Government studies. The one class that I hated more than Advanced Algebra. Thank the gods of education that I no longer have to deal with that pain in the ass class. I was more than a little surprised when Mr. Harper didn’t join us until almost halfway through the period. When he finally did return he just told us to open our books and read chapter 10 and answer the questions at the end. We all just did as ordered. Nobody wanted to piss him off today.

At the end of class I just grabbed my books and headed for my locker. After grabbing what I needed for homework I head for my car. As I exited the building I saw the guys and gals for the pit crews waiting at their cars. I waved to them and they all climbed in their cars. I throw my book bag in the back seat along with my purse. I knew where I had to be this afternoon. I was looking forward to it in more ways than one. Today is the first day of working with the pit crew.

Even as I was pulling out of the parking lot the music pumping out my speakers was already filling my blood. Steve Earle performing Copperhead Road. I never thought about the meaning behind the words but for Darlington County they fit. After all this was the home of the Southern 500. This song spoke to the heart and roots of NASCAR. Bootleggers running shine. I may have ended up with a Formula One contract, but my heart will always belong to NASCAR.

I was surprised when I pulled into the parking lot for MRDI. I knew that MRDI sat on just over fifty acres of land with ten of that just for the employee parking lot, office and manufacturing building. Those ten acres were all towards the front of the property. The rest of the acreage was paved over and used as a training area for pit crews. Mom and dad bought up the land around their garage over the years little by little until they had the whole fifty acres track just for MRDI. I asked why we need all that land once especially that back forty with all that pavement. Mom just told me that it was for the day MRDI got their first racing team. I never expected to be one of those making use of that land.

Off to the right side of the building were four Mobile locker room shower trailers from JAG mobile solutions. I knew that the garage had a locker room. I didn’t understand why we needed the trailers. I parked and reached for my gym bag as I got out of the car. Mom and dad were standing in the lobby as I entered. I swore that mom had that smile again. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that says I got a surprise for you and you’re not going to like it.

“You can use the shower trailers that the other girls are using Robbie.” She ordered as she pointed at the nearest two. “The far ones are reserved for the boys.”

“Hold on here a moment mom. I’m still technically a boy. Remember?” I countered. “And why aren’t we using the shower and locker room inside?”

“That may be true dear, but remember that little clause in your contract?”

“Ah shit! You got to be kidding me?” She had me, and we both knew it. I had accepted the bullshit about appearing as feminine as possible at all times.

“Nope. Besides, this is every teenage boy’s wet dream come true. Free access to the girls’ locker room. As for why we’re using the Jag Solution trailers we don’t have enough lockers in the normal shop locker room. That and we never figured on having to make accommodations for young ladies.” The smirk on mom’s face let me know what she felt about that. “Besides dear, with your current physical appearance it would be far too dangerous for you to use the boy’s locker room.”

I just grumbled and head for one of the nearest trailers. I ran into Kathy, and the other cheerleaders as I got near the first trailer. I was a little surprised to find my girlfriend Kelly with them. I didn’t even know she was in the work study program for the teams. “Hi ya Kelly. What brings you here?”

Kelly huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk about getting ignored. I swear there are times that I should slap on a pair of whitewalls to get her damned attention. I don’t know which she loves more. Me or that damned Judge of hers.”

That got the rest of the girls to laughing and me to blushing. “I am not that bad.”

It was almost as one as the gathered girls all shouted. “Yes you are!”

That was it. This means war. “You do know that I can always have an accident in the pit by running over your toes?”

“Let’s move it ladies. That means you too Robbie.” I looked over and was surprised to see Coach Hall. “We finally got both drivers here today and I want to go over team drills. Now move it!”

I looked at the girls as they hauled ass into the trailer. With a sigh I joined them. For some reason I had this feeling that Coach Hall won’t brook any arguments from me about being a boy. As I walked down the lengths of the lockers I found that there were dividers between each locker area. It took me a few seconds to realize that this trailer was lockers only. The two trailers acted together to form a full locker room. The other one held the shower stalls. These trailers were normally used in emergency response areas. I wondered who was paying for these monsters as I changed into my gym clothes.

Once changed I joined the others teens outside the trailer. Coach Hall was standing there in her dark blue track suite with her feet slightly apart and hands on hips. Laid out in the parking lot was a set of orange traffic cones. I took one look and dreaded the next words out of Coach’s mouth. “Okay people, we’ll start off with stretching and then some wind sprints. Pair up and help each other out. Bobbie, Kelly, you two find someone else to pair with. I don’t need the ragging hormones going into overdrive. Come on people we’re burning daylight.”

For the next forty-five minutes the woman busted our humps nonstop. Coach Hall was relentless in our physical conditioning. When we hit the time for wind sprints she was right there with us. She pushed herself as hard as us teens. After forty-five minutes of nothing but wind sprints she give us a fifteen minute break while she went to go find Jim Hailee and Bob Marks. Our respective Crew Chiefs.

When the three adults returned I knew we were in for a real ass kicker of a time. I wasn’t disappointed. Chief Hailee smiled as he stood in front of us. “Okay, boys and girls, time for you to get some hands-on training. Beth, Robbie, go suit up. The boys are bringing out both cars. We’re going to give your pit crews their introduction to pit stop procedures. Don’t worry we got ya covered.”

I wanted to say something but I knew better than to argue with Jim Hailee. I just did as the old man told me. With Beth hot on my heels I hit the locker room. Ten minutes later we walked back outside to find the new cars waiting for us in the back lot. I watched as the pit box equipment was setup on the far ends of the back lot away from the trailers. I knew what the two Crew Chiefs were up to the minute I saw the pit box setups. There were front and rear jacks, with the former having a swivel feature so the mechanic can move out of the way sooner and then release the car. The jacks have a quick release lever, no powered device can be used. Each corner of the car gets two pneumatic wheel guns, in case one of them fails, operating on compressed air. The system is hugely sophisticated and has changed considerably over the years. Mechanics have buttons on the wheel guns to signal when a stop has been made, but may also raise their hands too. There is also the light system, which hangs from the pit gantry. This also houses CCTV cameras, air lines and trigger wiring for the wheel guns.

With everything setup Chief Marks stepped in front of us all. “Okay kids, today we’re going to go over what actually happens in a pit spot. Now, each of you have been assigned your individual positions. Before any of you young ladies bitch about not being on the jacks we have a valid reason for that. None of these jacks are a powered device. They’re pure muscle powered. That means all upper body strength. They are also heavy son-of-bitches and have to be out of the way the second the car is dropped. This is why we have the guys on the jacks, fire extinguishers, and starters. All of these pieces of equipment are the heaviest and require a lot of upper body strength. Now the tires, tire guns, and wing adjusters don’t weigh near what those three pieces of equipment do. They require speed and dexterity. That’s where you gals shine over the lug heads.”

I had to keep from laughing at the way Chief Marks was describing why each member was assigned to each position. When he looked over at me and Beth I knew what was coming as he pointed at us. “Those two may be the ones in the spot light, but we’re the ones that make or break a team. A piss poor pit stop can cost the driver two to three positions on the track. A piss poor pit stop can lose a race. Understand kiddies, races can be won or lost on pit row. You lose me a race on pit row and you do not want to be in the garage the next day.”

Beth quirked her lips and whispered to me. “You can say that, again.”

I had to do it. In a gruff and gravelly voice just barely above a whisper. “You lose me a race on pit row and you do not want to be in the garage the next day.”

I must not have been as quite as I thought because Marks turned on me. “You think I’m joking, Robbie? You can just give me twenty for that wise ass. Start pushing.”

I just groaned and got down in the classical pushup position. I had forgotten that Chief Marks was a Marine Drill Sergeant at one time. In a clear voice I called out. “One Crew Chief Marks, two Crew Chief Marks.”

“About time you decided to show me the proper respect you little pain in my ass.” Chief Marks grunted before turning back to the gathered pit crews. “Where was I? Oh yes, drivers get the glory sure but we are the ones that give them the tools to get the job done. From the time a driver brings the car onto pit row to reentering the race is a total time of fifteen seconds for a good pit stop.” Kathy Hall held up her hand. “You have a question young lady?”

“Yes, sir. You said that the total time was fifteen seconds for a good pit stop. Could you break that down for us sir. Just so we understand each part.”

Chief Hailee chuckled as Marks stood there stunned by the teenager’s request. “I told you Marks. These are not your everyday grease monkeys. Every last one of them is a high school athlete. They need more than just an I told so for an answer. Think of them as recruits in Basic Training and show the same respect.”

“I know that you told me, we were bringing in high schoolers, but I thought this was just a show stunt. Sorry about not taking it seriously.” Marks looked over at Kathy. “Young lady you just asked a very complicated question that requires an exacting answer. Let’s take it step by step. One lap before the stop even starts I let the driver know that we’re pitting. With a countdown of ten seconds they enter pit row. This is when the pit clock starts people. At three seconds they approach the garage. Now by this time you are all in your assigned positions waiting for the driver to enter the box. This is where timing and choreography come into play. You have a question young man?”

Greg Stokes had raised his hand. “Yes sir. When you say choreography, what do you mean by that?”

“Just like in football Greg every team member has a set job to do at a set time. Think of it as running a passing play. Only this time the quarterback is sitting behind the wheel of a sixteen hundred pound demon of speed keeping it under control. As the front jack man you not only show the driver where to stop, but start the whole tire change process. Your position is one of the most dangerous and most important. Let me add one more thing people. Safety is rule one through ten in the pits. You disrespect these cars and they can hurt or kill you. Never take your eyes off that car. Does that answer your question?” Marks smiled at Greg as he answered the boy’s very clearly asked question.

“Yes sir. Thank you for explaining.”

“I want all of you kids to understand something right here and now. This is more than just a job for you kids. This is also a classroom. You will all learn more than just your positions in the pits. You will learn every inch of the cars that your individual drivers push to their limits.” Chief Hailee told us all. “You got questions you better fucking ask them. Like the old saying goes there are no dumb questions. Okay Bob continue with the breakdown.”

“Where was I?” Chief Marks asked.

“At the stop Chief Marks.” Kelly answered.

“Thank you, young lady. Oh I will learn all of your names over the next few weeks. I’ll also most likely stick you with a nickname. Think of it as a sign of respect people. Because I don’t give out nicknames to just anybody.” I chuckled at Bob Marks’ very blunt statement. He was notorious for forgetting people’s names. I think every member of MRDI has a nickname thanks to him.

“As I was saying the front jack man needs to be lined up and waiting for the car to pull in. The driver only keeps their foot on the break. They do not shutdown the engine. During the first second the wheel gun crews remove the lug nut while the jack men raise the car off the ground. By the one point five second mark the wheel off crew has pulled the old tire, and the wheel on crew is mounted the new tire. By the one point eight to two second mark the gun crew is tightening down the lug nut. By the two point one-five mark the jack men drop the car and the driver is on their way out of the box. That is a total time of two point five seconds for the actual stop. In the past we were allowed to refuel in the pits but due to changes in the rules we no longer have to worry about that.” Marks looked at the stunned and disbelieving faces of the teenagers.

He chuckled at this turn of events. “If any of you doubt the time just go to Youtube Crashyard.com F1 Top 10 Fastest Pit Stops of 2016. The world record time is one point nine-two seconds. The average time in the pit is two point five to two point six seconds. Now, we don’t expect you to have those types of times right now, but you should be able to get in somewhere around four to five seconds. Right now, we want procession over speed. Over time you’ll get your times down to the two to three second mark. Now head over to your assigned pit areas. Those of you on Robbie’s team have the forward pit and Beth’s team the back pit.”

As I slipped into the driver’s seat I knew that this was where I belonged. I waited patiently for the starter to kick the engine over. I knew that I wouldn’t be getting up to speed in the back lot but that didn’t matter. Today was all about introducing my pit crew to their positions and their jobs. I knew mine. I was a little surprised when Bob Marks took his position at my pit box. I was expecting Jim Hailee to be my Crew Chief. I took it in, stride as I knew that we would be moving crew members and Crew Chiefs around over the next few weeks. Beth and I didn’t have a lot of input on who went where on the pit crews. Our jobs where simple. Take the cars and drive them to the edge on the track to win.

For the next four hours Beth and I made pit stop after pit stop. Every time the crews got a little faster. Towards the end of the day I wanted out of the car badly. My ass had gone numb, my legs were starting to cramp, and I needed to pee badly. The less glamorous aspects of being a professional racer were making themselves known to me during the day’s training. Chief Marks wouldn’t let me take a break when I wanted one. He reminded that there would be hours of body killing stress spent on the tracks. He also pointed out that I won’t be able to just climb out and take a pee break in the middle of a race.

By the time Hailee and Marks called a stop for the day I was well done. So was Beth. We both needed help in climbing out of the cars. I was glad Coach Hall was here to help train us kids in the physical areas. Because I have a feeling, I too, need to get my happy ass in shape. If just practicing pit stops for four hours could do this to me. Then I was in need of some major PT. I thought that I was in good enough shape to handle driving a racer, but I was wrong. I felt like a ragdoll when I finally climbed out of the seat.

“Looks like both of our drivers need some good old endurance training.” Coach Hall commented to Marks and Hailee. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the little darlings whipped into shape in next to no time. The same goes for the rest of this sorry lot. The only ones that are in any type of condition for this type of work is the cheerleaders. I would have expected the football and baseball players to have at least kept up with their weight training. I’m even more disappointed in the girls. I had most of them in my PE classes. I know that they were better trained for their individual sports. To be totally honest I think we need to start with the basics for all of them. Weight training for strength, aerobics for conditioning, and endurance training to give the needed stamina to handle the stress.”

I looked over at the guys that made up the pit crews. They looked like they had been put through the meat grinder. The girls weren’t much better off. It was exactly like Coach Hall said. The only ones not wrung out were the cheerleaders. I had a very bad feel about the future under this woman’s eye towards training. I mean she was, at one time, a professional cheerleader and aerobics instructor, before becoming the Phis. Ed. Teacher and Cheer Coach for our school.

I looked over at the rest of the team. They were all athletes. I had never really thought about the toll that the stress of a race took on a driver’s body. I was in good shape for normal teenager, but nowhere near where I needed to be physically as a professional racer. If I wanted to win races, I needed to be in shape just as much as my pit crew need to be. If not more so. I was brought out of my thoughts by Coach Hall asking me a question for the second time. “Robbie are you going to answer me? I asked you what type of physical training, do you have?”

“Sorry Coach. I was trying to think about how to answer that question. I’ve never really done anything like physical training. Most just using the treadmill and elliptical trainer at the house.” I was honest with the woman. I saw no need to try and butch up what wasn’t there. When she heard this, Coach Hall gave me a smile. I felt a chill run down my spine at her smile. Turning to Kathy, her daughter. “Kathy, is it a good thing when your mom smiles like that?”

“Robbie, all I can say is you just gave my mom the keys to the candy factory.” The dead seriousness of Kathy’s answer made me want to run. Her next words just confirmed this. “She is a true sadist when it comes to this stuff, and you just gave her a dream come true. A virgin for torture on the alter of Physical Fitness. It’s been nice knowing you.”

-----tbc-----

Chapter 8
High school bullshit and courtroom heartburn.
Thursday morning was neither welcomed nor appreciated. For starters I was up at five, again. This being a girl shit is rapidly getting old. I was already wishing for the days of the three ‘S’s. You know shit, shower, shave, and be out the door. Now, I have to do everything from my hair to shave my damn legs. Then there’s the war paint. You know makeup. And today I have to really put on the looks. Today I become Roberta Lee McGuire legally.

It was with more than a little fear that I faced this day. Give me a track, a car, and I’m fine. Facing a Judge in a courtroom was not my race. I don’t even get the option of ditching school for court. No, my hearing isn’t until one o’clock this afternoon. Which means a full day of the boys in my school staring at my ass. All the while the girls get to harp on me about how to sit in a dress and walk in a pair of heels. To put it bluntly today is going to be a great big pain in the ass.

As I walked downstairs just after six-thirty my suspicions were proven correct. The whistles from Joey and dad had me reaching for the nearest frying pan. There was one in the dish drying rank next to the sink. “Put that down dear. I’ll not have your breaking my good frying pan over your brother’s head.”

I grumbled and put the pan back in the rack. “If he makes one smart assed remark about how I’m dressed mom his ass is walking to school.”

“Now dear, you have to cut your brother and father a little slack here. They were just paying you a compliment. Crudely, but a compliment none the less.” The way mother was handling the situation just made me want to pound on my brother all the more. “This is just part of what we talked about the other night.”

I dropped my head in defeat. Mom was right and no matter what I wanted this was just another part of being treated as a girl. “Okay mom, I get it.”

“Thank you, dear. You do look lovely this morning.” The smile mom gave me was enough to brighten my crappy morning start. If you have guessed it yet, I hate mornings. Living as a girl has not changed that one bit. “Remember to go directly to the courthouse following your last class. After that you, and your sister, need to head over to MRDI. We’ll be fitting both cars with your new seats.”

“About that Jewels, there’s been a delay in the new seats.” Dad said looking up from his kindle. “Jerry said another four days before they can have them here.”

“What caused the delay dad? I mean they had our old molds to go off of. All they should have to do is use those.” I knew something was up.

“Remember when we had you and Beth go through a new seat fitting?” Dad asked, and I just nodded my head. Dad waved his hand in front of his chest smiling. “Well, you have had a growth spurt in a certain area over the last year.”

“Okay I get it already!” I snapped. “I needed to get new bras so that means a new damned seat. How long until the new seats arrive?”

“Four days, Robbie. Like I said. Other than that, the cockpit setups of the two cars is perfect. We got a balance that is a straight-out winner for both cars. In the hands of you girls we stand a real chance at placing in your first year.” There was a sound of pride in dad’s voice that I hadn’t heard in a long time.

As much as I wanted to give up and say fuck it, but I knew that dad was right. After a quick breakfast I grab my purse, backpack, and gym bag. “Get a move on Joey. We don’t have all morning.”

Joey swallowed the last of his milk. Ran for his stuff. Me, I just went outside to my car to wait for him. I knew the bonehead would forget to bring his backpack down. Even as I slide butt first into my car I think about everything mom, Beth, Kelly, and Izzy, have been teaching me over the past few days. Mostly it has been things like how to sit in a dress, walk in heels, basically how to act like a young lady so that I don’t get read. I swear between school, practice, and girlhood 101, I haven’t had much time for myself. I was beginning to wonder if it might not be best to just say to hell with school. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have enough credits to graduate already. Hell, I had those at the beginning of the year. Then I remembered that pesky clause about actually having to graduate in my contract.

Once again as I pulled into the school’s parking lot the gearheads directed me to the front of the lot. Just like yesterday they directed to the spot next the band’s Majorite. I was a little surprised to find that there was a ‘reserved for MRDI drivers only’ sign in the spot. After parking Joey got out and headed for his homeroom. Me, I took a little more time getting out. I wasn’t ready to face the upcoming ogle fest as I entered the school. I knew that it would happen, I just need a little more time to get ready for it.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my door and slide out feet first. Standing up slowly I smoothed out my dress and grabbed my purse, backpack, then closed my door locking it out of habit. The wolf whistles came fast and hard. The gearheads may be some of the rudest, troublesome, ass hats in the school, but they were also some of the most accepting people in the school. Their biggest beef with me was always the fact that none of them could beat me in a race. When I told them, I would do my best to get them a ride if they cleaned up their acts, I knew that they would bust their collective asses to turn their lives around. I had held their dream in my hands. I knew the gearheads would do everything they could for that chance.

As I headed for the door the gearheads fell in all around me like a bodyguard. I looked over at Thomas Hart. “Okay guys, what gives? Somebody spike your pot?”

“Ya, like you said on Monday. No one is going to hire a bunch of drugged out street racing punks. We all got together over at Slow Jack’s Garage the other night. Old man Shepard really lit into our asses. He gave us all an ass chewing that would do a Drill Sergeant proud. He really went off when we told him about your offer. So, yah, we’re taking it seriously. We’ve all hit at least two twelve step meetings.” Thomas’s very blunt answer made me stop short. “We know we got to clean up our acts McGuire. That means hard work for all of us. Me more than the others.”

“Well, I hope that you can Thomas. I look forward to the day that you’re in the field racing against me.” I had to be honest with myself just as he was being honest with himself. I doubt that we’ll ever be on the same track at the same time. Then again, five days ago you would have say that there was no way for me to sign a F1 contract. The difference will be Thomas belongs on a NASCAR track bumping and grinding with the Earnhardt’s, Petty’s, Gordon’s, and Johnson’s of the race world.

Thomas chuckled at hearing that. “I doubt we’ll ever race against each other Robbie. I want NASCAR with all the good old boys. You belong in Indy and Formula One. You may not see it, but we do. You’re all champion and high heels classy. We found that out on Monday. You could have just told us all to go fuck off, but instead you offered us a chance at turning our acts around. You’re a real lady. No matter what the bible thumpers say. Today just proves it.”

“What does that mean?” I asked him as politely as I could without losing my temper.

“You look like a real high society lady dressed like that is all.” Thomas blushed cleared down to his neck. All while giving me the eye. “Why are you all dressed up? Not that you don’t look pretty normally.”

I wanted to slug the big moron, but I could tell that he was trying. I gave him a pass for the day. “Oh, thank you Thomas. I got to go to court this afternoon.”

“It’s not over what happened with those fuck sticks on the basketball is it? if it is then we’ll take care of it for you. We’ll make sure none of them get a chance at bad mouthing you Robbie. We may not be the stars of the school, but sometimes it’s better to have friends in low places.” Thomas growled with the rest of the gearheads popping knuckles and punching palms.

“Relax, guys. No, I go before the judge today to get my name change legalized. Today I become me legally.” I saw their looks of confusion. “After today my name will legally be Roberta Lee McGuire.”

“Oh this one of those things you gotta do when changing sexes isn’t it?” Dale Cartwright jumped in with. “I read about all the shit Robbie has to go through the night just to be herself. Talk about making something so simple legally fucking messed up and complicated. That doesn’t even take in to account all the doctors she has to deal with. You would think she had committed serial murder or something.”

I don’t know what got into the gearheads but whatever it was really flipped a switch with them. I knew that it had to be more than just the promise I made to help them get a shot at a pro-ride. I knew of one source to find out and I’ll have to wait to talk to her tomorrow. Today was Christen’s physical therapy day. I said goodbye to the guys and headed inside leaving them to talk with Dale. He must have really studied up on what it takes to go through gender reassignment because he actually was getting shit right. It made me wonder about him a little bit. Could he be hiding something from his parents and friends. Then I remembered something that Sharron once told me. ‘Life is a personal journey of self-discovery for everyone. It doesn’t always end out the way we planned it.’

As I walked the hallway to my homeroom I got more than a few confused looks, and more than my fair share of admiring looks as well. There were even a few looks of ‘I hate you’ from the girls. When I took my normal seat there was a collective gasp from those already present. It didn’t take long before the questions to starting coming hard and fast. Mostly from the girls. They wanted to know everything from where I got the dress I was wearing to who taught me how to walk in high-heels. I was so happy when Miss. Fechner entered the room and stopped all the questions. I had peace and quiet for the next forty-five minutes at least.

I grabbed my bookbag and purse when the bell rang and headed for my next class. I had gone only twenty-feet down the hallway when someone pinched my ass. I spun around as I screeched. I found a bunch of grinning assholes that all had one thing in common. Spandex onesies, padded mates, and public groping. I know that I would run into the shitheads sooner or later, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen this soon. I figured that they would have backed off even more after what happened with the basketball team.

“Okay, Stone. What do you fucking want?” I demanded of Steven Stone, captain for the wrestling team and all-around bully.

“We were just wondering if that was padding or natural. I guess those hormone shots work wonders now days.” The thug smirked. “Just a friendly reminder that we still run this fucking school McGuire. Sooner rather than later the schoolboard will come to their senses rehire our Coach. We’re the ones that bring in the big money for this school, along with the championships. You and your little want-a-be racing teams are a distraction from that. Get smart and drop out. You don’t then thing will get ruff for you all. The wrestling team isn’t as dumb as you think, McGuire.”

I just sighed and looked him in the eye. “You know something Stone. You’re right you’re not as dumb as I thought. You’re fucking dumber. You don’t get it do you? You fucking mate monkeys, and the basketball team are done. Your programs are on life support as we speak. The board is already talking about disbanding the teams for good. You have between now and the end of the semester to turn your grades around. You’re on academic probation already. Which means that you don’t get go to State.” I knew I was pushing Stone’s buttons. It was a gamble, but I had to do something to buy time. Time for the bell to ring or my pit crew and the teachers to show. Either one would be preferable to facing these thugs alone. The smallest member of the wrestling team outweighed me by fifty pounds. If they wanted to get pshyical I didn’t stand a chance in hell. Not the way I was dressed.

Stone just snorted. “That will change, McGuire. Once word gets out that you’re nothing more than a tranny freak. You’ll lose that fancy contract and be the laughing stock of the world. We’ll get our Coaches back, our teams will be reinstated, we’ll run the school like normal, and your tranny freak ass will be gone. Nothing left but selling your ass on the streets once the Coaches’ law suites get done with taking everything away.”

I had already heard about the law suites that Kline and Honeywell tried to file. They were thrown out of every law office in town. Not even the ambulance-chasing shysters over on Canal Street would take their case. The main reason was there were too many witnesses who saw their outbursts in the board meeting. Witnesses that were far more reputable than Kline or Honeywell will ever be. Our lawyers had gone to see them yesterday and informed the two jackasses that if they kept pushing they would lose more than just their teaching certificates. They would be losing their freedom. It was time to educate their protégées on the fact of life.

“Let me give you a fast lesson on the way the law actually works, Stone. First, your Coach is a known bigot and sexist. This placed his happy ass in deep shit. They thought that they could force my parents’ company into accepting your sorry asses as employees. Well guess fucking what. They can’t order an employer to hire anyone that doesn’t meet reasonable requirements set down by that employer. Which none of you currently can.” I pointed out before going on with my lesson.

“Second, threats of physical violence towards another is, by law, considered extortion. That can lead to things like RECO charges and jail time. You and your buddies can be brought up on the same charges by threatening me now. Third, all of you are on thin ice with the school for the number of bullying charges that were filed. There enough of those that if the police decide to get involved you’re all going down for a long time. Oh, and from what I understand is something none of you want. It seems that the local DA has a real hardon for bullies. He sent a seventeen-year-old boy to Longfellow Correctional for two years, then to be transferred to Kingston Correctional for another eight. That means ten-years total. Just for giving a kid a swirly last year.”

I could see that I was getting through to the dumbasses. The threat of jail time was a very real one. They may have been the cocks of the walk, but that time was gone. They no longer had that protection provided by their former Coach and Carson. I was saved from having to go any further by the ringing of the class bell. I knew that I was late. I also knew that the teachers would be stepping out to clear the halls. I was saved by the arrival of Mr. Harmon, and Mr. Coaster. They were both glaring at the wrestlers as Mr. Harmon started giving out orders.

“Alright people clear the hallway. You all have classes. I suggest that you get there now.” Harmon looked over at me and smile. “Miss. McGuire, I know that you only have three classes but skipping even one can cause you to be back here on a full schedule. Which I am sure you don’t need.”

I returned his smile. “Yes sir. Understood. I was just trying to explain to our valiant wrestlers the facts of life.”

“I’m sure you were, Miss. McGuire.” Mr. Harmon snarked then waved for me to get to class. I took the hint and hauled ass. I knew that Harmon and Coaster were going to have a private talk with the wrestling team members before letting them go. If they let them go. For some reason I had this feeling that those two teachers have been waiting for the chance to pounce on the wrestlers.

I walked into my second class of the day to stairs and a few accusing looks from the other students. Most of whom were my pit crew. I just shook my head and signaled that I was alright. Mr. Johnson just asked me why I was running late. I explained that I was helping Mr. Harmon explain the rules about sexual harassment to a few of the male students. Mr. Johnson just gave a strange look and told me to take my seat. I was left alone until the end of class. Kelly, Kathy, Cassy, Sherry, and Charlotte surrounded me as Danny, Jose, Will, and Greg took up positions just behind their girlfriends. I could tell they wanted answers.

“Don’t worry guys I’m fine. Harmon and Coaster shut down the mat monkeys before shit got out of hand. We’re all good.” I was doing my best to play the confrontation off as nothing big, but for some reason I was failing to fool my friends.

Kelly wrapped me in tight hug, while whispering in my ear. “Don’t bullshit the troops, Robbie. What really happened?”

I gave up and told them about my run in with the wrestling team on our way to our last class of the day. I could tell that the guys would be having a little talk with Stone and his butt buddies. Kathy and the cheerleaders had a similar look in their eyes. I got the impression that girlfriends, sisters, and mothers would be getting phone calls as well. There was one thing I learned a long time ago. Girls don’t fight fair. They use every dirty, sneaky, underhanded, lowdown, and dastardly trick in the book. And don’t care one wit about doing it. Like grandma once told me. Angelic faces often hide devilish hearts.

I led the way into our last class of the day as text messages were flying through the digital world. Nothing Mr. Harper could say or do would change the fact that my pit crew was pissed. They wanted the asses of the wrestlers for lunch and they were going to have them. Even if it meant facing old man Harper’s wrath. I needn’t have worried though. As soon as the bell rang phones were put away and Harper was given the respect he had earned. Not that all of the students showed him this respect and courtesy though. Sara and her crowd wouldn’t know how to show respect if it was a snake that bit them all on the ass.

As much as I hate the church crowd and their holier than thou bullshit. This one act of disrespect is enough to piss me off. It also pisses off Mr. Harper big time. He started snatching up cellphones faster than a diamondback rattlesnake. All he said when he returned to the front of the room. “You people can pick these up at the end of class.”

When the bell rang at the end of third period I just grabbed my shit and joined the others as we headed for the parking lot. Kelly climbed into my car with a smile. “Come on gorgeous, we got a hot date with a sexy judge.”

“Calm down, Kelly. The way you’re acting it’s like we’re getting married or something.” I chuckled at my girlfriend’s antics.

“Well you become official today Robbie. In a way it’s like you’re getting a second birthday. We’re all going to be there.” She told me with a smile as she pointed to the other kids. “We’re a team.”

I was slightly surprised when she said the team was joining us at the courthouse. When I looked in my rearview mirror I saw everyone’s cars in a convoy behind me. Whatever was going on with my team they were here to support me. For now, at least. I just hit the button for my playlist and tried to relax before reaching the courthouse. I was more than willing to deal with driving a car at over a hundred miles per hour but stepping into a courtroom terrified me to no end. I was about to leave Robert Burns McGuire Jr. behind for the rest of my life. In just a few short hours I will legally be Roberta Lee McGuire.

It didn’t take us long to get over to the courthouse. After parking the car, I started to shake. Until then I was as steady as a rock. Grabbing my purse, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Kelly placed her hand on mine giving me a small smile.

“I know that you’re scared shitless Robbie. This is not your type of race. You need to trust your lawyers.” She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “We both know that this is part of the deal with Mercedes-Benz and your racing contract.”

“It’s more than just that, Kelly.” I sighed. “For the last eighteen years I have been Robert Burns McGuire Jr. After today it’ll be like that part of me never existed. Everything I have accomplished has been as Robert Burns McGuire Jr.”

“Robbie do you remember that line from Romeo and Juliet? The about names and roses. How did it go?” Kelly got this faraway look in her eyes. “Oh yah. ‘What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet.’ Just because you’re changing your name to match your appearance doesn’t mean it wipes out all of those accomplishments.”

“I get that Kelly. I understand what you’re saying. It’s just that I never thought this day would come is all. I’ve spent the last two years going over this shit in my head and with Sharron. I know what I look like. I’ve know that sooner or later I would be forced to make the choice. I’ve put it off for far too long and now it has come back to bight me in the ass.” I sighed and leaned back in my seat. “I just wish that I had more time.”

“If you truly feel that way go in there and tell Mr. Dewey that you need to postpone the name change. You don’t have to do this today, Robbie. Me and all the others will back your play.” As much as Kelly thought that was the case it wasn’t. I knew better. That contract needed to be reinforced by legal documentation. Part of that documentation was a legal name change.

“No Kell, I need to do this today. I have put it off for long enough. Besides, you know that I have never been one to do anything half assed. The moment I started to live as a girl full time I knew it was time for the name change.” I opened my door and swung my legs out as I had been taught. “Come on time to go.”

We were the last two to enter the courthouse. I let Kelly go in front of me as we pass through the security check point. I place my purse on the conveyer belt right behind hers. I waited for Kelly to pass through the magnetic scanner then walked through. I was met by Mr. Dewey just on the other side.

“Hi, Mr. Dewey. Is everything in place for the hearing?”

“Just a slight change, Robbie.” I didn’t like that sound of that. I was about to question what was going on. He put me at ease with his explanation. “Judge Keller, has a hearing that has run over by two-hours. To address this your case has been moved to Judge Pitcher’s courtroom. This is a good thing for you.”

“How so?” I was still worried about the sudden change in courtrooms and Judges. I hate last minute changes.

“Judge Pitcher has far more experience with cases like yours. In the parlances of law his ruling will carry far more weight in the long run. Him hearing your case is a good thing.” Mr. Dewey explained then smiled. “By the way you look very pretty today.”

“Thank you, sir. I wanted to make a good impression on Judge Keller. Well, I guess that’ll be Judge Pitcher now. Is he really that much more inclined towards LGBT rights?” I asked him.

“Judge Daniel Pitcher, has ruled on more LGBT civil rights cases in South Carolina than most. He is a graduate of Georgetown Law. Did six years with the Navy JAG Office before going into private practice. He cut his teeth on these types of cases as an attorney for a small family law firm outside of Savana. He represented more than twenty individual cases concerning LGBT clients. When he was elected as Judge sixteen-years ago on his first try.” Mr. Dewey must have sensed my apprehension at the change in venue to be explaining as much as he was about the Judge Pitcher.

“Thanks Mr. Dewey. Is there anything I need to know before we head in?” I asked straight out.

“Not really. The Judge will ask you a few questions then make his decision.” Mr. Dewey took a deep breath. “He can rule against you. That only happens if they feel there is criminal intent.”

I just nodded my head and followed him inside. I took my seat up front next to Mr. Dewey while my parents sat in the first row behind us. The next four rows were taken up by the pit crews. On the other side of the isle the first five rows held all the guys from down at the garage. In short all of the MRDI family was in the courtroom. If I needed character witnesses. I had them.

The bailiff call the room to order, before calling for us to stand for the judge. I was surprised by the man that entered the courtroom. He had to be in his mid to late fifties. “Be seated. What do we have today Marry?”

“People of South Carolina verses McGuire, your Honor. Petition for name and sexual identity change.” The court clerk answered.

“Is the plaintive present?” he asked. While looking over the paperwork that was handed to him.

“She is your honor.” Mr. Dewey answered after he stood up.

Judge Pitcher looked over at me then at Mr. Dewey giving him a harsh look. “Counselor is it the plaintive’s intention to live out the rest of their life as a male?”

When I heard this I almost jumped out of my skin. Mr. Dewey placed his hand on my shoulder. “I believe that there is a misunderstanding here your Honor. The plaintive is petitioning for a male to female identity.”

Judge Pitcher did a double take. Then reread the paperwork before looking down at me. “I see. My apologies young lady.”

“You’re forgiven your Honor. I know that I pass quite well.” I figured that should I put him at ease. So, I lied. “I’m used to people seeing me as a girl. I find it relaxing.”

Pitcher chuckled. “No need to try and save an old man from his own stupidity. I should have paid better attention to what I was reading. As I was saying is it your intention to live out your life as a woman?”

“Yes, your Honor.”

“May I know your reasons behind your decision?” It was a valid question and I had no reason to lie.

“It is by medical necessity, your Honor. The drugs that were used to save my life from cancer had certain side effects that left me with little choice in the matter.” I knew that he would be asking for proof of my claim. That was why Doc. Sharron and Doc. Clancy, my oncologist, was here.

“Is there documented proof of these claims, Counselor?” He asked of Mr. Dewey.

“Exhibits seven, through forty-one, your Honor.” Mr. Dewey answered quickly. “The drugs to save my clients life were all highly experimental and the side effects were unknown at the time.”

Judge Pitcher spent the next ten minutes reading over what could only be my medical records. “Are the doctors present to collaborate these records Counselor?”

“Yes, your Honor. Both are present at this time.” Mr. Dewey answered before pointing to them.

“Then I see no need to challenge what has been presented. I do have a question for Doctor Kelly.” Sharron stood up so she could be seen. “Doctor, I see that the young lady has been in your care for several years now. Was it your decision to hold off for the name change or your patient’s?”

“I never force my patients to do anything your Honor. It has been Roberta’s decision to make and hers alone. Unlike some of my colleagues that believe children need to be told what to do, I try to guide them in their choices. When I first met Robbie, she was an extremely ill child filled with hate for every headshrinker in the State. If not the country. It took me a great deal of pain stacking hard work to get her to look up to me.” I want to bust out laughing at the way Sharron described our first meeting. All the pain was on my part with the hard work only on her part as she cut my bare ass with her hand. I think Judge Pitcher heard my snicker as he looked at me for a second before asking.

“I take it that you don’t remember your first meeting with the seriousness young lady?” He was smirking, so I knew that it was a rhetorical question. I couldn’t help it my smartass bone kicked.

“No, your Honor don’t. Oh, it was hard work but the pain in the backside was all mine.” My answer must have struck his funny bone as he started to chuckle.

“I imagine so, young lady. I’ve heard about Doctor Kelly’s sometimes less than normal approach to getting her patients’ attention. I only hope that your introduction was less painful than my niece’s.” he turned back to Sharron. “Doctor Kelly what is your opinion on the plaintive mental state now?”

“I find that Roberta is a well-adjusted young lady. To deny her, her rightful name and gender would be a severe and disabling act. One that could very well undo years of counseling.”

“Thank you, Sharron.” He turned to Doctor Clancy. “Doctor Clancy, can you explain the side effects of the experimental drugs and how they play into the young lady’s current petition?”

“At the time of Robert’s treatments, the following drug cocktail was used.” Doctor Clancy rattled off a string of four syllable words that sure sounded Latin to me. When he got done I was floored by the number of drugs in that cocktail. “Several of those drugs were long lasting hormonal in nature. Those hormones were used as a counterbalance to the harsher drugs that were used to kill the leukemia. And provide the needed bone density, muscle mass, and organ development. Unfortunitily the only hormones that would work with the chemotherapy drugs were female in nature.”

“Doctor I have to ask why male hormones weren’t used?”

“The primary reason was that the chemotherapy drugs that were used attacked young Robert’s natural androgens and testosterone. Some of those drugs are long term and remained in Roberta’s system. To use male HRT now would endanger her life.” I wanted to cringe at hearing Clancy explain what all the chemotherapy drugs had done.

“Thank you, Doctor. Now that I have a fuller understanding of the medical side of the case I am ready to hear from any character witnesses for the plaintive.” I almost chuckled when both pit crews stood up along with the guys from MRDI. “Are all these your character witnesses, Counselor?”

“You’ll have to forgive me, your Honor, but these are the only ones would could get the afternoon free. If all of the witnesses for the plaintive could be here this hearing would have to have been held in the gym of BS high school.” I did laugh at Mr. Dewey this time. I quickly regained my composure at the look from Judge Pitcher. I looked down at my hands to keep my control.

Pitcher cleared his throat. “I see. I take the young lady is well liked and a respected member of her school. Not to mention her community. How many have already given their statements?”

“All have given a written statement, your Honor. Those statements are in the evidence files, examples forty-two through ninety-three on the docket. If I may suggest, we just admit the statements into record rather than go through each witness.” Dewey smiled.

“Heard and agreed to, Counselor.” Pitcher waved for the others to return to their seats. “Thank you for time ladies and gentlemen. The court appreciates your participation in this matter.”

When he finished he looked back over at me and Mr. Dewey. “Will the plaintive stand?” I stood next to Mr. Dewey. “Young lady, it is often said that Lady Justice is blind. She has to be, so that she can overlook the failures of us poor humans who come before her. However, the Lady is not deaf. Today she has heard your pleas for justice. It is with great honor that I grant your petition.”

Turning to his court clerk. “Let the record show that from this day forward Robert Burns McGuire shall now be known as Roberta Lee McGuire. Professional Formula One driver for MDRI and Mercedes-Benz International. Case dismissed.” With that Pitcher banged his gavel. “Congratulations, young lady.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good day.” I said as I stood up with everyone else. I received hugs and congratulations as I left the courtroom. Mom and dad were waiting just outside the courthouse as we exited. I noticed they were not alone. The people from Mercedes-Benz were still in town and standing there with them.

Bertha Benz, and Mercedes Jellinek, walked up and hugged first me, then Kelly. Bertha smile at the both of us. “You girls make a beautiful couple. Congratulations Roberta.”

“Thankyou, Mrs. Benz. This has been a day that I have long looked forward to. Now that it has finally arrived I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.” I was honest with the woman.

“Ja, I can see how this would be. You have your dream come true in just a few short days. It is a wonder that your feelings are not all over the place.” Mercedes Jellinek told me as she hugged me.

“It is more than just that ma’am. I’m truly feeling overwhelmed right now.” I couldn’t figure any other way to describe what I was feeling just then. “I never expected to have my dream and all this in just a matter of a few short days.”

“Ah now we hear the crux of the matter. You got your dream and wish that we handed over on the silver platter.” Bertha answered with a grin. “Then we go and give you even more.”

“Not so much more ma’am. Than just everything beyond what I ever imagined I would receive in my life.”

“This is the way of the world Roberta. One minute one is down, the next they are on top. Much life is much like auto racing. A bad pit stop, and you lose the race. A lucky pass and you’re in the lead. A simple twist of the wheel and you avoid the crash. Miss the turn and you spin out into a crash. This is the way of the racer. It is a fast-paced life with more twists, turns, climbs, and drops than any track in the world.” Mercedes said by way of explanation then smiled. “You have joined a very elite group of men and women my dear. They live on the edge. This is just the beginning for you and your sister.”

-----tbc-----

Chapter 9
Graduations, and travel plans.
For the next five weeks my schedule long with that of the teams stilled into a relative calm. Monday through Friday we had classes for the first three hours of the day. Then it was off to MRDI’s gym for a two-hour torture session with Coach Hall. This was then followed by seven hours on the back lot of MRDI doing pit drills. Needless to say, the days were long and filled with hard work.

On the weekends the pit crews would spend three hours in the gym while Coach Hall had me and Beth working on stamina drills. It was during the fifth week that the last of the passports arrived. I smiled as my pit crews looked at those little books in awe. There in their hands was a dream come true. They really were going to be traveling the world. They would see 21 different countries in one year. Granted there wouldn’t a lot of time for sight seeing they all knew this, but just the idea of traveling to all those countries excited my friends.

Two weeks before the first race I went into the school’s main office on Friday and informed Mr. Corely of the teams travel plans. He just sat behind his desk and started typing. A few minutes later he looked up at me. “All of the teachers have been notified Bobbie. The lesson plans will be on-line by Monday. When will you and your teams be leaving? If I may know?”

“We leve for Melbourne on the fifteenth, sir. From there on out I will be busy as all get out. I won’t be the only one with a busy schedule either. You might want to just go ahead and setup our class schedules to be emailed to us for the rest of the year. Because on Thursday Beth and I fly into the racetrack and spend some time with the team, checking that the cars are OK and working out strategy for the weekend. We got our first press conference that afternoon, after that we’re signing autographs for the many autograph hunters. That evening, we’re supposed to take part in a sponsor function dinner, hopefully escaping at around 10 p.m.”

I really got into the way the world of auto racing was for drivers. I’ve been wanting to lay into one of the teachers that think it is nothing more than doing laps on a track. “Our first practice starts very early on Friday morning, especially since we’re a new team and our Crew Chiefs have signed up for the extra two-hour test session. I’m supposed to be at the track by 8 a.m. after spending an hour in the hotel gym and do a run through the day’s program with the team. The rest of the day is practice and technical debriefs, while the team evaluates the set-up of the car and its performance. Afterward, we got even more press conferences. During all these other responsibilities, we got to complete the first qualifying round, which decides the running order for Saturday’s main qualifying session. That evening we got another sponsor function, which can and probably will run late.”

By now I had a full head of steam and was on a roll. “Saturday is two practice sessions in the morning and then a warm-up before we actually qualify our cars. We got to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect with our cars because we only have the one lap to get one time in if we make a mistake and spin off the track or we suffer a mechanical problem we could find our asses starting right at the back of the grid. If qualifying goes well and our time puts us in one of the top three positions, there is a special press conference, broadcast all around the world. After this press conference we must attend more debriefs with the team and then even more press conferences. We got a stupid evening function planned for us on Saturday night, that we must attend, as well, although it shouldn’t run too late because Sunday is race day and we need our sleep.”

I looked at my very stunned Principle. The more I told him about a Formula 1 Drivers week the more the man stared at me as if I had grown a second head. “Race day is by far the most important, and busiest, day of the week. In the past, drivers could just turn up a few minutes before the race started, jump in their cars, and then head off home as soon as the checkered flag came out, that’s no longer the case. The day often involves everything from warming up and meeting sponsors to race day parades and post-race functions. And if a driver can’t get a helicopter into the circuit he could find himself having to get up even earlier to beat the traffic jams caused by the fans.”

“My God Bobbie! How on earth are you going to handle all that?”

I just chuckled. “If am lucky I’ll wake up in my own bed on Monday morning. Even though I’ll be tired and maybe a bit sore from the race, I still have to go to the gym for a few hours to make sure I stay in shape. Monday afternoon, if I haven’t been called up for a sponsor function, I’ll fly out to one of the European tracks to get ready for that week’s testing schedule. On Tuesday less than 48 hours after the Grand Prix, it’s back in the cockpit, working hard on developments and improvements for the next race. The teams will be experimenting with new parts or different set-ups to try to make the car even quicker. Testing a Formula One car is a relentless job, and the track usually stays open from 9 a.m. until darkness. After that, it’s a few hours with the team, working through a technical debrief of the test, before dinner and then maybe an interview with journalists.”

I took a deep breath and smiled as I went in for the kill. “Wednesday is another day of testing, although a I may be able to fly home in that evening to get ready for the following week’s Grand Prix. It all depends on when the next race is sometimes we get a break of a week or two between races. The big teams usually have one or two test drivers who help ease the workload on their regular drivers, because there’s no point getting their stars completely shattered before the next race. Only we don’t have those driving staff for that yet. Hopefully by the end of next month we will, but for now it’s just me and Beth.”

“What about your pit crews? It sounds as if they’ll be gone just as much as you will be.” Mr. Corely pointed out.

“They will be. If anyone ever says that racing isn’t a team sport smack them in the chops sir. I depend on those twenty members of my pit crew far more than a quarterback ever does on his Linemen. Tell the blue hairs to kiss my ass while you’re at it.” I know that I was pushing it but didn’t care. I was tired of people tell me how to run my pit crew. “Every last member of my pit crews and I have more then enough credits to graduate tomorrow morning. Trust me, I double checked.”

Corely sighed and gave me a sly smile. “Oh, I know, Bobbie. In fact, I am a little surprised that you haven’t asked for your diplomas already. If it was up to me I would just sign off on your graduations and be done with you all.”

Hearing this I gave Corely a hard look then went for broke. “Back up your mouth with actions then, sir. Sign the diplomas and pass them out today.”

The man gave me a dirty look. “You want that for your teams don’t you Bobbie? You want them all to be high school grades.”

I smirked. “With our schedule it will be the only way. Like the old saying goes. Put up or shut up. This is a no half measures situation. You say that you’re an educator first, prove it!”

I knew that I was pushing things with the man, but he had the power to put an end to the bullshit. Bullshit that me and my team had been dealing with for the last two months. He would either call my bluff or follow through. Corely looked me in the eye and started to chuckle as he typed.

“Your teams will have their diplomas by Monday. That should give them enough time to clear out their lockers. You on the other hand young lady will need to complete the year.”

“No sir. We all graduate at the same time or nothing at all. I’m sick and tired of the bullshit. I don’t have time for the political bullshit anymore. I have twenty-one races to run in the next eight months. I need to have my mind on those tracks, not some fucking paper for Government. If you think I’m kidding I want, you to think about this. The first time I lose because I’m worried about completing a paper and pile into the wall at a hundred-and-forty it will be your fault.” I was snarling by this point.

I had passed the point of caring anymore. Between the schoolboard, the district superintended, and now this asshole. My give a fuck meter was broken, it was currently stuck in ‘don’t’ and I could no longer get parts for making repairs. Corley sat there for a minute then chuckled.

“Bobbie, you’ll get what you want. I’ll have your diplomas mailed out to you all. As it is you only have six weeks left. Four of those you and your team will be traveling. I just have one condition.” I gave him the stink eye wondering what he was up to. “I want a team photo for my wall. One with all of your signatures and from each track that you go to for the first year.”

I blinked then glared. “Let me get this straight you want twenty-one signed team pictures for your wall? Is that what you’re asking for? Just so we can all get our diplomas and graduate this week.”

Corely smiled. “Yup. That or nothing.”

“That’s blackmail.” I smiled and held out my hand. “But you leave me with no choice. You have a deal sir.”

We both chuckled as we shook hands. “You know Bobbie it has been a pleasure to have you in our school. You and your pit crews.”

“I learned a lot sir. I hope that you won’t hold it against us when we don’t win our first race.” I had to be honest with the man. After all I knew the chances of win our first race were sky high to outer limits.

“Bobbie, I would be highly surprised if you didn’t win. I’ve heard of your skills behind the wheel. You’re just too damned good.” He pulled out a hall pass and signed it. “That’ll get you into your first class. By the way why didn’t you try to negotiate with me?”

“Are you kidding sir? I know when I’m getting a deal.” I flashed him a smile and turned for the door. “Just out of curiosity. What would you have settled for?”

“I would have accepted four pictures. One form the following tracks. Albert Park in Milbourn, Silverstone in Britain, Hockenheimring Baden-Württemberg in Germany, and Circuit of The Americas in my hometown of Austin, Texas.” I knew why he had a love for Formula 1. The Circuit of The Americas is a grade 1 FIA specification 3.427-mile motor racing facility located in Austin, Texas. It may not have the history of the other tracks, but it is an American track and that was all that mattered to Mr. Corely.

The Europeans may claim that auto racing was born in their countries, but the true heart of the sport lay in the US. From February through November you can find Americans filling the stands of race tracks of all types Friday through Sunday. All to see men and women pit themselves against each other and the track in a desperate pursuit of the need for speed.

“That kind of explains why you’ve been so supportive of the pit crews Mr. Corely. You only named off three of the oldest tracks and the newest. I take it that you have followed the sport for a while now?” I had to know the rest of the story.

To my surprise he pulled out a photo album. “You could say that Bobbie. This is a copy of one of my greatest treasures. It is also one of my greatest secrets. One that I hope you’ll keep. Every picture in this album is from one of the great Formula One tracks in the world. I was the son of a United States Ambassador at large. I must have seen sixty different countries before I was seventeen.” He started to chuckle. “The one thing I was never able to get was a signed team picture. Those things were always sold out before I got there. I get one of you and your sister. Shit. I’ll be the talk of the district, if not the state. Before you even point to the Jeff Gordon, Jimmy Johnson, and Dale Earnhardt pictures I’ll let you in on a little secret. My family is good friends with Rick Hendrick and his family. Just one of the perks.”

I just chuckled. Then in my best cartoon superhero’s voice I call out. “Finally, he shows the true deviousness of his plan. You’ll not get away this Dark Principle. I know your plan now. Your blackmail scheme will fail. I’ll drag you into the light and expose you to the world as the Master Educator that you are.”

I had to give it to Mr. Corely. He jumped right in with a snappy comeback. “Drat! Foiled again! I’ll win one of these days, Racer!”

We both stood there laughing before Mr. Corely waved for me to get to class. I just smiled and waved then headed for class. Today would be my last day. Along with the pit crews’ last day. It didn’t take long for word to spread through out the school about the pit crews’ early graduation. I was in my last class of the day when Corely came over the loudspeakers requesting me and the pit crews to come to the auditorium. As we all walked into the auditorium I spotted State District Superintendent Doctor Mark Samuels and Principle Corely standing in the center of the stage.

Samuels waved for us to sit down in the front rows of seats. He waited for us to take our seats then picked up a piece of paper. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is not often that our schools can boast of such an accomplishment as we are about to today. Forty-three students all approved for early graduation. The truth of the matter is this school system has never had this many early graduates at one time. When your Principle called and informed me that you all wanted to graduate this week let’s just say I was floored. I spent the next hour and a half researching each one of you. Only to find that all of you not only have enough credits to graduate but could have done so at the midterm.”

Samuels looked over each of us one at a time. Until he got to me. “I was more than a little surprised when none of you were offered the chance at early graduation. From what your current Principle has been able to explain your local District Superintendent and Schoolboard have been using you young people as political pawns. Let me be perfectly clear here ladies and gentlemen. Those days are over with. I will not have the students placed in our care used in such a manner.”

I wanted to jump and shout at the top of my lungs but was beaten to the punch by Kelly. “It’s about time you took care of the problem. Those ass hats downtown have been letting too much shit get out of hand around here.”

“Miss. Ringwald, please calm down. That is one of the many reasons why I am here today. I made the trip from Columbia so that I can personally hand out your diplomas. That is the reason why I have asked for you all to be here.” Samuels picked up a stack of papers. “In my hands are those very diplomas. As I call out your names please step forward and receive yours.”

I held up my hand. “Sir, wouldn’t it be better if our parents were present to see this?”

“Miss. McGuire, if you can arrange that on such a short notice I am more than willing to hold off.” I knew that Samuels thought he had me. I just smiled and pulled out my phone.

I heard my pit crew start to laugh as Sherry Howe busted his bubble. “You shouldn’t have given our driver that easy of a challenge Doctor Samuels. She arranged for every parent and member of her pit crews to sign contracts with Mercedes-Benz in less than an hour. I hope you can hold up you end?”

“Young lady if Miss. McGuire can pull off that kind of magic. Then I can do no less on my part. And before you ask the local Superintendent, Doctor Stone has been placed on unpaid leave. Over the past few weeks, with the help of Mr. Corely, this district’s Superintendent, members of the schoolboard, and certain teachers have been under investigation. Please keep this information to yourselves as the investigation is still on going.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew that something was up after the way Mr. Corely treated me this morning but not this.

My phone rang before I or anyone else could say anything about this revelation. “Mom, can you get a hold of all the parents for the pit crews?” I waited as mom told me she could and asked why. “The State Superintendent is here, and he is going to pass out our diplomas today. Think we can use the garage for this? Sure, I can get him there. If he doesn’t wait to come willingly I’ll just flatten the tires on his car and Shanghai his ass. Be there in half an hour.”

I hung up my phone and smiled up at Samuels and Corely. “Well gentlemen, care to go for a ride?”

“I hate to tell you this, Doctor Samuels, no on second thought, no I don’t. I told you not to underestimate the students of this school. Especially Roberta McGuire. The young lady thinks faster than you can blink.” Mr. Corely cracked.

I just had to correct him just a little. “You’re wrong, Mr. Corely. I don’t think faster than you can blink. I think and react at over one-hundred miles per hour plus. When I’m out there on the track I don’t have time to think over every choice. I got to make my decisions fast and deal with them. Usually at over a hundred miles an hour in a hair pin turn.”

“No shit, Bobbie. We’ve all said it before and we’ll say it again. You and Beth are batshit crazy.” Cathy popped off. Which got the rest of the pit crew laughing at the inside joke. “One of these days, they’re going to scrape you off of a turn wall.”

“Not going to happen Cathy. They’ll lock her up before it gets that bad.” Kelly snarked then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

Doctor Samuels cleared his throat at the way the discussion was going and Kelly’s sudden display of affection. “Well, as much as I would love to let you all continue on like this. I do believe that it would be best to head over to Miss. McGuire’s family garage. I truly want to hand out these well-earned diplomas.”

“Then follow us to the land of OZ sir, or as we like to call it. McGuire Race Design International our second home.” Danny Hailee said as he got up and led the way out of the auditorium.

Cassy, Sherry, Charlotte, and Kelly all rode with me over to the garage. There was one thing that I noticed over the past few weeks about the girls on the pit crews. Even Beth had taken to copying my style. They had started to emulate either mine or Beth’s current styles. They in turn were being emulated by the other girls in school. Needless to say, there were more and more equestrian attired girls in our school.

As we rode towards the garage the three cheerleaders and my girlfriend were working their phones. I don’t know what they were up to whatever it is, it must be important. Because by the time we got to the garage they were all giggling. I parked over by the mobile locker rooms like Kelly wanted me to. As I climbed out, I helped the others in the back seat out, I noticed that the girls were heading for the locker rooms. No, knowing what was up, I followed them inside. I was ordered to change into my leathers and hurry.

I saw that all of the girls were changing into their race leathers. I didn’t need a Mac truck to hit to figure out what was going on. They had been talking with the guys and arranged to graduate in their race leathers. It didn’t take long for me to change into my new leathers supplied by Mercedes-Benz. Both teams walked out of the locker rooms in their new purple team leathers with the Mercedes-Benz logo embroidered in silver on the back.

As we entered the garage proper there parking lot was rapidly filling up with the cars of parents. Off to one side there was four of the local vulture carriers. Sorry, I should use the politically correct terms for them now that I will be a target for their attentions, News Vans. I smiled at the sight of everyone’s parents showing up on short a short notice. Doctor Samuels was standing with my parents when we walked in. Doctor Samuels looked over at me the team in our leathers. I saw a smiled breakout on his face as he excused himself and walked over to me.

“Miss. McGuire, I must say that you have truly surprised me. This is one time I’m more than happy to be proven wrong.” Samuels looked over the teams in our uniforms. “I must say that the team leathers are a nice touch.”

“Thank you, sir. We’re kind of proud of our teams here at MRDI.” Said Chief Hailee with a lot of pride. “These young ladies and gentlemen have shown what hard work and dedication can do.”

“I quite agree sir. They are role models for their generation. I cannot wait to see them perform on the world’s stage of Formula One Racing. I understand that Miss. McGuire owns the unofficial track record for Darlington. If she can do something like that on the Lady in Black, then she’ll own the Formula tracks.” Samuels most not have an understanding of F1 tracks.

Thankfully Chief Hailee set him straight. “Doctor Samuels, it is one thing to take on the Lady. And another to take on Street, Road, or Race course in Formula One. ALL of our races are Road course races with more twists and turns than a drunken cottonmouth. With Darlington you race the track, or she’ll eat you alive. With Formula One tracks they’ll reach out and bight you in the ass the first time you disrespect them. You just cannot compare the two vastly different styles of racing.”

“I see your point sir. I never really thought about it along those lines. While each track holds similarities to the others, there are always subtle differences that separate them apart from the others. How do you deal with the different track conditions?” Samuels asked Chief Hailee in wonder.

“With great care and planning, sir.” I answered. “It takes a certain type of driver and Crew Chief to deal with challenges that are presented with each track.”

“Excuse me, people, but as fascinating as this discussion is, we have a ceremony to conduct. We also have get the teams and their cars to Columbia.” At the confused look from Samuels Chief Marks sighed and explained how a F1 racer got moved from race to race. “Once we have the cars stripped down to their last component. The engines, and gearboxes are removed, along with the front and rear wings, mirrors and suspension parts. Each is placed within its own foam-slotted box. We also use custom-fitted foam and an anvil-tough and good old fashion humble but steadfast bubble wrap. It’s especially good for protecting painted surfaces, which is a prime concern because no one wants to see that glorious silvery-chrome paint or a sponsor's logo scuffed. The chassis is protected by its own custom-made cover and placed within its own case.”

“That doesn’t even take in to account the other several dozen tons of equipment to be packed and shipped. Each team carries enough spare parts to rebuild their cars, forty sets of tires, two-thousand-five-hundred litres of fuel, two-hundred litres of motor oil and ninety litres of coolant. And then there are the tools. And the computers. And enough food to make as many as two-hundred meals, plus all the stuff needed to prepare those meals. And... and... oh hell the list goes on. All told, the biggest teams may be hauling as much as fifty-tons of gear, and even the smallest outfits like ours are schlepping around thirty-tons of stuff.” Then I started to chuckle. “I’m just happy that the guys from DHL showed up yesterday to help pack everything.”

“I must say I never realized the sheer magnitude of Formula One. I never realized it was so many things, an elaborate show, an engineering extravaganza and above all a logistical nightmare.” Samuels just shook his head in wonder. “How will you transport the cars and such around Europe?”

“Well, for the European rounds of the championship most of a team's equipment will travel by road, sir. In the liveried articulated lorries so familiar from race paddocks across the continent. All of the race equipment required for the weekend will be loaded in these, cars, spare parts, and tools. Tires, fuel and certain other equipment are brought separately by technical partners and local contractors.” I wanted to kiss my mom as she walked up answering that question. “Doctor Samuels, if you’ll follow me we have setup an area where you can hand out those diplomas. We really do need to get a move on.”

“Of course, Mrs. McGuire. I sorry for letting my curiosity get the better of me. I just never truly realized the complexity of transporting a Formula One team around the world.” I smirked as mom led the State Superintendent of Schools around by his nose.

I joined my pit crews in the garage area. We all stood in a tight group in the center of the main area. Our parents took up positions around the outer edge as Samuels stepped up to the table that mom and the employees of MRDI had set up for his use. I watched as race fan was put aside for the Statesman. The vultures were all along the back wall with their camera men.

As much as I would love to run those people over with my car I know that they will be part of my life from now on. Especially if I should start winning races like Mercedes-Benz is hoping I will. I do good on back roads and the Lady, but I still wonder if I’m I good enough to compete on a Formula 1 circuit. I let my mind go as I think about all that has to be done yet today.

First off, I got to finish packing the gear for our first race. I know that this is supposed to be the pit crews’ job but those are my cars. It’s my ass on the line once that car hits the track. I can bet your ass that I’ll double check everything is packed. After that I got to get my bags for the trip. Get to bed early and get up early for the drive over to Columbia. DHL may be flying our equipment and cars out on their cargo carriers, but we get to travel in a USAir Airbus A-320 from Columbia to Los Angles International. From LAX to Melbourne it’s all Boeing-747 with a hour layover in Hawaii. I was so lost in my thoughts about the flight on Saturday and the upcoming race I didn’t hear my name.

Thank God, Kelly shoved me from behind. I quickly tossed her a death glare over my shoulder as I walked forward to receive my diploma. I had totally tuned out Doctor Samuels little speech before he started calling names. I proudly shook his hand as he handed me that piece of scrap paper. That was all it was to me really. I already had my diplomas in my wallet. Those pieces of paper that said I could drive on any track in the world. In two weeks, I would have my real graduation. The day I strapped my ass into the cockpit of my car and went for my first test lap in Melbourne. A track that was as mean as they come.

I let the specs for that track fill my mind as the rest of the team receive their individual diploma. The Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit is a street circuit around Albert Park Lake, only a few kilometers south of central Melbourne. It is used annually as a racetrack for the Formula One Australian Grand Prix, Supercars Championship Melbourne 400 and associated support races.

The circuit uses everyday sections of road that circle Albert Park Lake, a small man-altered lake just south of the Central Business District of Melbourne. The road sections that are used were rebuilt prior to the inaugural event in 1996 to ensure consistency and smoothness. As a result, compared to other circuits that are held on public roads, the Albert Park track has quite a smooth surface. Before 2007 there existed only a few other places on the Formula 1 calendar with a body of water close to the track. Many of the new tracks, such as Valencia, Singapore and Abu Dhabi have imitated that feature.

The course is fast and relatively easy to drive, drivers have even been heard to comment that the consistent placement of corners allows them to easily learn the circuit and achieve competitive times. The flat terrain around the lake, coupled with a track design that features few true straights, means that the track is not conducive to overtaking a competitor outside of the pit area.

I let the specs for the track race through my mind. I can see all sixteen turns. A single lap length is 5.303km (3.295 miles). Total number of race laps is 58. Race distance is 307.574km (191.118 miles). Pole position is on the left-hand side of the track. Lap record* is 1’24.125 (226.934 kph) by Michael Schumacher, 2004. Fastest lap is 1’23.529 (228.553 kph) by Sebastian Vettel, 2011. Maximum speed 312kph (193.868 mph). DRS zone/s (race) First and second straight. Distance from grid to turn one 380m.

I start going over car’s performance for the race next. A full throttle is going to be at best 61%. The longest flat-out section is only 843 meters. Downforce levels are going to be fucking high. I need to restrict my fuel usage 1.66kg per lap. The time penalty per lap of fuel should be around 0.051s. More than that and I’m screwed big time. Albert Park may be a Sunday drive in the eyes of the spectators, but it is a holly nightmare for the drivers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the graduating Class of 2018.” I was brought back to the here and now by Samuels words. I started to shout and hoot right along with my friends and team mates. When we quieted down Samuels waved for me to come up to the front with him. “As most of you know it was this remarkable young lady that put together these two amazing Formula One teams. I think it is befitting that she say a few words.”

He stepped off to one side clapping his hands as I thought long and hard about grabbing a torque wrench or cheater bar with which to brain him. “Thank you, Doctor Samuels for time today to handle such a very unique event in our school. All I can say is the members of the MRDI pit crews earned those diplomas. Both through hard work and with constant studying. We don’t cheat, well not off the track we don’t, and you can’t prove that we do on the track.”

The joke about cheating got everyone laughing as they all knew that my favorite saying revolves around cheating. ‘If you ain’t cheating, you’re trying hard enough to win.’ They all knew that I won’t outright cheat, put I had no problems with trying to skew the odds in my favor by bending the fuck out of the rules.

“Excuse me, Miss. McGuire. Is it true that you have a criminal record?” One of the vultures from the back of the room shouted. Before I could say anything, they were shouting another question one that really pissed me off. It wasn’t the only one either. “Is it true that you’re really a pre-operative tranny?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at the man. As I just stared at the fucker with raging hate in my eyes. This time I did pick up a cheater bar as I walked around the table towards the man. The rest of the mechanics in the shop descended on the reporters like a plague of locusts. None of these people were leaving here in one piece. Especially that first fuck head.

“Hey back off buddy! Or I’ll sue the shit out of you and this company.” The reporter snarked not seeing the rage in my father’s eyes. Dad was well passed the point of caring. “Besides the public has a right to know what kind of deviant freak they got representing them on the world stage.”

The moment I heard those words I knew exactly who had tipped this fuck wade off about me. I just need confirmation. I grabbed him by his balls before he knew what was happening and squeezed. “Who told you that asshole? Talk before I stuff your balls in a vice.”

“I… got… rights. You… ugh… can’t… ugh… do… ugh… this… to… me.” I squeezed a little hard with each word the man said.

“That is where you’re wrong fuck stick. You see in this garage we respect each other. Around here respect is earned, and you just pissed all your goodwill out the window. Now. Let me ask this one more time before I turn you over to my pit crew.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the gathered teens. He was either going to give the information I wanted, or they were going to drag it out of his sorry ass. I looked over at the other three reporters. “Let this be a very valuable lesson people. You coming pissing in the waters of MRDI. You just might get your dick bitten off by the gators that swim in these waters.”
I squeezed the dipshit’s nuts harder and he screamed. I let up just a little. He began talking. “It was Mrs. Eloise Carson. Alright? Carson told me that you’re really a boy in drag and that you’re in a homosexual relationship with some boy from BSHS.”

I let off the pressure just a little bit more as I started to laugh. “I hope you have a good bank account fuckhead. Because if you report one word of what that woman told you. You will be paying for the new paint job on my car. Oh, and they aren’t cheap. Somewhere around two and half million to three million per paint job. Not only will I take you to the cleaners, but I will be taking your Station or paper with you. The information that Mrs. Eloise Carson disclosed to you is ALL highly classified under medical records. Do you know what that means? It means you open your mouth and you go to fucking jail while I clean out your bank account.”

I let the threat sink in as I let go of his balls. “Now get the fuck out of this garage before I let my pit crew kill your ass.”

The man ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He left without his video equipment and recordings. The Four Horsemen relieved him of those before he got too far. The other reporters got the hint that there were certain things that where off limits if they wanted to continue breathing. The two pit crews and garage full of mechanics drove the point home. I walked back towards the front but stopped and looked over at the other reporters.

“Let me be perfectly clear for you ladies and gentlemen of the press. I drive a car at more than a hundred miles an hour. I take turns in excess of fifty miles per hour sliding all the way round a ninety-degree hairpin. I face death on the race tracks of the world or here in our own backyard on my own terms. You pack of vultures will not dictate how I will live my life. Nor will I allow you to presume that you have the right to invade my privacy. You do that, and I will come for you. One way or the other. Your ass will belong to me. I faced down death at the tender age of fourteen from cancer. You can do nothing to me but piss me off.” I was still pissed off the cars were already broke down for loading. I looked at mine and Beth’s pit crews. “We got three hours to get this shit on the trucks and heading for Columbia people. Let’s see some assholes and elbows. Chief Hailee, Chief Marks, you want to get these vultures the fuck out of our garage?”

I don’t know what it was, but people started busting their asses to finish packing up our gear for the race. As the guys in the garage got to work showing my pit crews what needed to be done. Hailee, Marks, the fathers of the pit crew, and my dad turned to escort the reporters from the garage. Mom walked over to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. She whispered in my ear as she held me. I know that it was meant to calm me down. And it was working.

“Remember turn one has a downward inside curve.” Mom was going over the exact specs for the Albert Park Raceway. I don’t know where she got the specs, but she had them cold. She had too, to be that exact in her description of the race track. When she started to question me about how I could expect the car to perform I gave her everything I could remember. I forget when we first started to do this, but whenever I need to calm down mom would pick a race track at random. After giving me a rundown on how to drive the course she would question me on how I should expect the car to handle. When and where to push the car to the limits and when to hold back and look for the opening.

“Mom, when did we first start doing this? I mean talking about the tracks and how the car reacts.” I couldn’t remember and that worried me. It was such an important part of my life.

“Bobbie, we started walking the tracks and feeling out the cars when you were only nine years old. You hated thunderstorms so much and I tried everything to distract you. Then one night you were playing on your Xbox when a thunderstorm came through. You had the F1 racing game in your Xbox three-sixty. Well you got mad when you spun out on a corner and screamed that in real life the car won’t have reacted that way. I had to correct you and said it would. You being the hardheaded child of your father just had to have proof. I described the corner and you pointed out that the performance of the car won’t have been that far off as to force a spin out that late in the race. We spent the next three hours going over every turn of that track and you broke down how you would attack each one. I was amazed. Ever since then it has been our little secret for calming you down when you become upset or stressed. Now go help out your team. They need to see that you got your act together, honey.” With that mom pushed me towards where the pit crews were finishing up with the packing.

Dad walked up to mom once I was out of the way. “The fire in her soul will either burn her out or drive her to a championship.”

“Robert, there are times when I think that you missed the line for brains. OUR youngest daughter has far too much control to let that fire burn her out and is too damned disciplined to be anything other than a champion. Mark my words she’ll make us proud.”

“I don’t know about you love. But she already did three times with me. The day she was born and the day she refused to give up and die.” Dad turned and walked back towards the new Stock car he was working on for Denny.

“When was the last time, Robert?” mom asked him.

“The day she earned her ride with Mercedes-Benz.”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 10
Thursday morning, Melbourne, Australia.
I was surprised by the hotel that mom was able to get for us. We were right downtown less than a half mile from where the race course would be set up. We flew in early on Sunday morning local time. By early I mean two in the morning local time. I wanted to pound Coach Hall when she woke us all up at just after eight that morning. Since then she has woken us up at just after six every morning for our daily training.

I swear that woman is Torquemada reincarnated. We started the day off with our daily workout in the hotel gym. After that it was off for a five-mile run. The route we take goes from the hotel down to the roads that would lead us around the actual race course then back to the hotel. For me these runs have been informative in a major way. Beth and I were able to get a real feel for the track. The course is going to be fast and relatively easy to drive. More than a few drivers have commented that the consistent placement of corners allows them to easily learn the circuit and achieve competitive times. I can see why they say this now. The relatively flat terrain around the lake, coupled with a track design that features few true straights, means that the track is not conducive to overtaking or easy spectating unless in possession of a grandstand seat.

Most of the trackside fencing, pedestrian overpasses, grandstands and other motorsport infrastructure are erected approximately two months prior to this coming Grand Prix weekend. As we run the course we get a good look at the area around the circuit. The area including the large aquatic center, a golf course, a Lakeside Stadium, some restaurants and rowing boathouses is now restricted access for the weekend. With each pasting yard Beth and I got a better feel for how the race would run.

The more we ran the course the better we get a feel for the course. I could already tell that the course was going to be fast. I knew that I would have to hold back on the engine. Too much on this track would end my race before it ever started. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get my first real feel for the track, but until then I’ve run the course twice every day. I know that I’m pushing myself, but the team is counting on me. This is my time. In twenty-four hours, I have my real Graduation on this course.

I turn to look at the dress hanging off to one side in a portable clothing rack. Tonight, is my first introduction into the fast-paced life style of a driver. Beth and I have been scheduled for an open-press meet and greet party by the Mercedes-Benz group. The cocktail dress is a dark maroon silken backless number with spaghetti straps. Its hem stops just above my knees. I’m just happy that the pumps that go with the dress only have two-inch heel. Any higher and I might make a fool of myself tonight. This was one of the outfits that mom and Issy picked out for me to wear.

There are three other outfits like this for the nighttime festivities that I have to deal with. Right now, I would give anything to be able to skip all the bullshit and just hang out with my friends. They have been busting their asses to get the cars ready to run, along with keeping up with their training. I overheard Chief Marks talking with dad last night that they are fast becoming some of the best pit crewmen he has ever had the pleasure of working with. I’m not surprised as they have no bad habits to break. They all latterly came into the industry with absolutely no experience. They really are learning on the job. Doing it the right way as far as the Crew Chiefs are concerned.

It’s me and Beth that have had to break some bad habits. Not big ones, but ones that we developed over the last few years test driving cars for mom and dad. We learned to drive in a way that allowed for us to jump from one type of racer to another. We’ve had to get used to driving only F1 cars and honing our skills for just that type of racing. I’m just happy that we were able to get a few days of the week on the Lady back home to work on that.

Not everything has been smooth sailing though. One of the things that I have been hearing about is the way the other International teams have been treating my pit crews. More than a few times it has come close to blows in the garage area. I know that as the new guys on the circuit we can expect some harassment from the other teams. The problem is they just don’t understand that pissing off a bunch of South Carolina rednecks is dangerous.

I’ve heard about some of the pranks that were already pulled on my guys and gals. They’ve been mostly harmless, but a few have come close to crossing the line. Especially the ones concerning the gals on the pit crews. Mom and dad went to the Commission over one of the pranks yesterday. It was either that or let the Four Horsemen and ‘The Tiger’ handle the problem. I still think that the boys all got together last night and handed out their own ‘penalties’ by the smug looks on their faces at breakfast. That and the bruises on the faces of the chief practical jokers.

I think that the jokes will end after today. If not, things will get deadly. I know my guys won’t start the fight, but they’ll damned sure to try and finish it. There is an old saying in South Carolina. One that is very true. Lee may have surrendered, but we started the war and we’re still fighting it. I also know that the other teams are going to leave the gals on my team alone after yesterday. One of the Red Bull Team mechanics slapped Jenny White, the smallest of the gals on my team on the ass. The hip toss, followed up by an armbar for submission hold, drove the point home that the female members of MRDI can handle themselves in a pinch. I guess it pays to have Tony ‘the Tiger’ Towers, all state Junior MMA champion as part of your team.

It seems he has been giving the others, lessons in self-defense or as kicking depending on who you talk to. Not that they really needed them. Like I said earlier, never piss off a South Carolina redneck. They get kind of mean and nasty when they fight. Things like ball crushing, knife strikes to the throat, chokeholds, eye gouging, and ear bighting are always on the table. Then there is always the possibility of a ‘Carolina tooth pick’ getting used as well. For those unfamiliar with the term that is a ten-inch folding hunting knife with a drop point lock blade.

Thank the good lord above that Chief Hailee and Marks searched the boys BEFORE we left Darlington. They made sure the guys left their hunting knives at home. I could just see the headlines now. American Teenage pit crew member guts and skins some famous dumbass European F1 driver. At least something along those lines. It’s bad enough that we’ve already gotten slapped with a stupid nickname in the pits. I mean come the fuck on, “Water Babies”, really? Where do those mooks come up with this shit?

I can deal with the nicknames those ass hat drivers have tagged me and Beth with. I don’t mind those, as every driver gets nailed with a nickname at one point or another in their career. What I cannot figure out is why the pit crews are going after our guys. I just hope like hell the other crews back off before it does turn deadly. Because I know that none of my crew will play fair and they only play for blood. I am fast realizing one of the disadvantages of having such a young crew from the backwoods of South Carolina on the international stage of F1.

I also realized that I’ve been stalling. I’m supposed to be downstairs in the conference room in forty minutes for my first real press conference. Once again, I give a silent thanks to the gods of fashion for Issy. I know that she can be a pain in my ass at times, but she knows what she’s doing when it comes to this stuff. Personally, I would avoid going to the press conference but the folks from Mercedes-Benz want to introduce their newest drivers and racing team. McGuire Racing Design Inc is about to become a household name. There will be a few sponsors there as well. We could really use one or two to help out with expenses.

I know that it may not seem like much but even a few hundred grand to pay for airfare and fuel will go a long way. I don’t want to rely solely on Mercedes-Benz if I don’t have a winning season. It would be extremely nice to have a cash cushion for the team’s finances. I’ve already heard that a big-name candy, and a soda pop company are looking to invest a little of their advertising bucks in a F1 team. Not to mention a few fast food chains. I don’t know what they’re expecting but if I have to kiss a little ass and put on a show. Then I’ll be kissing ass and dancing to their tune while doing my best not to make a fool of myself.

The only problem I have is that I don’t know this dance. Hell, I barely know how to dance as a girl. I sure as hell don’t know how to dance to the tune of politics. This is one time that I wish mom could stand in for me. She always knows just what to say to potential investors. She never lets dad talk with investors. The one time she did that dad took them out for Big Macs, fries, and milkshakes. Followed by a night of twelve-once decreasing curls at J&G Pub out on State route 17. It took mom four days to straighten out that mess. I just hope that I can pull it off today and later on this evening. There is just too much riding on my introduction to the F1 community.

I look over at the clothes Issy picked out for me. As I get dressed for the occasion, I’m kind of glad that the outfit is something that I would wear on a daily basis. I’ve grown to like my jodhpurs, or breeches, with a casual polo, blouses and boots. I know that most women wouldn’t wear something like this all the time, but for me the style works. Thanks to Issy I’ve come to embrace the whole Equestrian look and make it mine in so many ways. Beth has really taken to her new look as a Milan Model. I think that and our attitudes towards the other drivers is why they have tagged me and Beth with our nicknames. The Fire and Ice Princesses.

If they think were cold and fiery now, wait until we get behind the wheels of our cars. Over the past month both Beth and I developed two very distinctive styles of driving. Styles that were as different as they were unique. I had always been fast paced, passionate behind the wheel. Letting my emotions and feelings dictate how I attack the course. Beth on the other hand drives as if she is made of ice. Hard cold, logical, totally in control of her emotions as if she was plugged into a computer.

The knock at my room door dragged me out of my thoughts and back to the present. “Coming.” I open the door to find Kelly, Beth, and Tony. “Hi guys. What’re you doing here?”

“We’re your escort, Bobbie.” Tony said bluntly.

“I don’t need no escort. I know where I’m supposed to be. I also know that I have ten minutes before I have to be there.” I grumbled before letting them into my room. “I just got to grab my purse and we can go.”

“Bobbie, talk to me here love. What’s got your panties in a twist?” Kelly demanded of me.

“No shit Bobbie. You sound like you’re ready to take someone’s head off. I’ve never seen you like this. Not even when you were at your sickest.” Beth asked kindly.

“You should know, Beth. You’re in the same spot that I am.” I snapped. I realized I was taking out my nervousness on my friends and sister. I took a deep breath to calm down. “Sorry.”

Beth just smiled as Kelly pulled me into a hug. Tony just stood back and let us girls handle the problem. He did smirk though. “I won’t believe it, if I wasn’t here to see it. Bobbie the Fire Princess is scared of talking to a bunch of reporters.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean, Tony?” I asked with heat.

“I’m just standing here thinking about what you did last week. I mean you had those boneheads shaking in their boots and heels one minute then eating out of your hand the next. Where is that confident and cocky Formula One driver that we all busted our asses for? The one that is more than willing to take to the backroads of Darlington county to resolve a beef.” Tony was smiling at me now. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just be yourself Bobbie. If the vultures get out of hand just smile over at me. I’ll happily escort them outside for a little one on one counseling on the right way to treat ladies. I’m sure that the rest of the pit team will back me on this.”

“Damn it, Tony! I don’t need you or the guys pounding on possible assholes. Just let me deal with the press.” The moment the words were out of my mouth I know what Tony had done. I just smirked and grabbed my purse. “Come on guys let’s go.”

After a short ride down in the elevator and a quick walk through the lobby. We arrived at the conference room. It didn’t took long for the newshounds to swarm me and Beth. Thank the gods of racing, mom came to our rescue. Well, her and the people from Mercedes-Benz. When I first met Mr. Gunderson from the Mercedes-Benz Advertising branch I didn’t like the man. After today though, the first chance I get I’m buying that man a fifth of the best German Schnapps I can get my hands on. The way he backed the reporters down made me think of that scene in the movie Patton with George C. Scott. The one where he is addressing his commanders during the Battle of the Bulge and their drive to relieve Baston.

He took control of the room and commanded their attention from the start. He never let the news jackals get out of hand during their questioning of either me or Beth. He forced them to stick strictly to questions about our time as drivers. When one butt wipe tried to dig into our personal lives Gunderson had him removed and banded from the upcoming press events. After about thirty-minutes of Q and A he called for an end. After thanking them he ran their asses out of the room and turned the meeting over to us for the greet part. Now was the time that I was worried about.

I was surprised when a woman in her mid-forties introduced herself to me. “Good afternoon, Roberta. Allow me to introduce myself. Irina Goldberg of Maverick Fashions.”

It took me a few seconds to put things together as to who this woman was. “The pleasure is mine ma’am. I have to tell you that I really do love your clothing line. As I’m sure you can tell.”

“I thought I recognized that combination. That’s from last year’s fall line. It was very popular with our teenage riders.” I could not believe that I was talking with Irina Goldberg. Not just the lead designer for Maverick Equestrian fashions but their CEO. What the hell was she doing here kept running though my head. “My good friend Isabella La Fayette, told me that I should look you up when you came to town for the race. She did not tell me that you and your sister were two of the drivers.”

“Well, we’re just starting out in the field. I won’t call us drivers just yet. After tomorrow you can.” I smiled as I down played our success so far.

“Excuse me but did I just hear one of the newest drivers on the Grand Prix Circuit showing modesty?” Said a man I hadn’t met yet standing behind Irina. “Irina, please introduce me to this young lady? I most know more about her.”

“James, will you behave yourself. As for the young lady showing modesty you could not be furthest from the truth.” Irina turned to the man with a smile. “Roberta McGuire, this gentleman is James Rubbart for Hershey International.”

As I held out my hand to shake his, Irina leaned over and stage whispered. “Count your fingers when done dear. He’s a lawyer.”

I couldn’t help myself. I started to giggle at the look of hurt on Mr. Rubbart’s face. “Irina, you wound me. I am a gentleman at all times. Unless you meet in a courtroom.”

“Roberta, do you know why the good Lord made snakes first?” I didn’t know where Irina was going but shook my head no. “He needed the practice before he made lawyers.”

That was it. I lost it. I couldn’t help myself as I laughed at the joke and Mr. Rubbart just shrugged his shoulders. “At least she didn’t go for the one about the shipwreck survivors.”

“Excuse me sir? What do you mean by that?” I had to hear this one.

Mr. Rubbert smiled. “Please call me James young lady. And the joke that I was talking about concerns the ten survivors of a shipwreck off the cost of South Africa. The sharks there had attacked and eaten all the others that made it off the ship but left these ten men alone. When the news found out that they were all lawyers the answer became apparent for their survival. Professional curtesy.”

I started to laugh again. Once I had regained my composure. “Roberta McGuire, sir. It is a pleasure to meet you. You remind me of our family lawyers back home. You might have heard of them, Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe of Darlington, South Carolina.”

“I thought I heard a southern drawl.” He smiled wide. “Though I am slightly surprised to find not one but two southern bells on the Grand Prix circuit. I figured that you young ladies would have gone for a NASCAR ride. Being from Darlington and all.”

“Sir, if my sister were ever to go NASCAR she would be just as fast.” Beth said as she and Tony walked up with Kelly. “Sis, mom wants to see you over the snack table.”

“Excuse me young lady but I am sure your mother will understand me monopolizing your sister’s time.” Mr. Rubbart said with confidence. He was just a little too smug for my tastes just then. “After all I’m considering signing over several thousands of dollars to your racing teams.”

“No offence, Mr. Rubbart, but you don’t know jack shit about our family. If you think I’m going to make my mother wait. You’re fucking nuts.” I told the pompous ass as I turned to walk away. “Oh, and if you really want to make that investment you need to follow me. I just drive the cars our parents design and build.”

I smiled over at Irina as she hid the smile playing on her lips behind the champagne flute. Beth, and Kelly, fell in behind me while Tony just smirked as he turned to follow. Not before he gave Rubbart some much needed advice.

“Sir, if I can give you some advice.” Rubbart nodded. “When it comes to the McGuire family do yourself a real big favor. Be honest, and don’t try to double talk them. Show them the respect they’ve earned. You do that, and they’ll deal with you. You don’t, and they’ll hand you your hat along with your ass.”

Word of that little exchange between Tony and Rubbart would spread like wildfire in the conference room. I found mom talking with a man in his mid-fifties with slightly graying hair. The most striking thing about the man was his right arm was missing. He didn’t hid the fact that his arm missing either. He had one of those old-fashioned hooks for a hand. I didn’t need an introduction this time. I knew exactly who I was meeting.

David McFeeters, CEO of Advertising for the golden arches. Talk about getting an international fast food chain for a sponsor. If we land this contract I know we won’t have to worry over money. Mr. McFeeters gave Beth, and I, a warm smile as he held out his left hand for the introductions.

“Mr. McFeeters, I would like to introduce my youngest daughter, Roberta. Roberta, this is Mr. David McFeeters. CEO of Advertising for your favorite place to eat.” I grasped his left hand with my own as mom made the introductions. I gave him my best welcoming smile. “Roberta is the other half of the team’s drivers.”

“It is a real pleasure to meet you sir. Though I am more than a little surprised to see you here. Your company is not known for sponsoring sports teams or other such endeavors.” I felt that I should be honest with the man. After all, if Mickey D’s was going to support any sport it would most likely be a US only sport.

“On the contrary young lady.” Mr. McFeeters chuckled. “We have a history of supporting sports. Granted that history has never really gone to the International Racing community.”

“I stand corrected, sir. I forget that your company has been a major sponsor for the Olympics for several decades now.” I put on my best charming smile and played the game. A game that I wasn’t fully equipped to handle. “But I must admit that most of my experience has been with your Ronald McDonald Houses sir. I would think that you would put more of your advertising dollars into their operations than in a racing team.”

McFeeters chuckled again and turned to mom. “You should have warned me Jewels. Your youngest is just as charming as your oldest. I would never have thought that a young lady would have such a view. How is it Roberta has heard of our Houses?”

“My family made use of the one in Charleston South Carolina, sir.” I sighed as I knew that it would come out at some time and took the bull by the horns. “I’m a cancer survivor sir. Childhood leukemia. I’m currently in my fourth year of remission.”

McFeeters turned from jovial to deadly serious as he addressed my mother. “You know that contract you were proposing Jewels. Tear it up and rewrite for double. Put in there a clause that for every lap that Roberta and Beth run I’ll donate a hundred dollars to the Houses out of my own pocket. For every car they pass two hundred, for every lap either one leads a thousand, and for every race they win I’ll match the purse.”

“Is that last part a challenge, sir?” I asked with a wicked smile. One that was matched by Beth. The man didn’t know who he was dealing with and we had no problems taking his money.

“If you wish to take as such young lady, then yes, it is.” McFeeters just smiled not realizing the trap he just stepped into.

“Um… sir you really need to reconsider what you just said.” I wanted to pound Kelly just then. I had the man and his money. He just didn’t realize it yet.

“Why should I do that young lady? I find that it would be a great incentive for my news drivers to win.” McFeeters gave Kelly a questioning look that had Tony chuckling. “What am I missing here young man?”

“Sir, the McGuire sisters, race for pinks or cash. You do not throw down a challenge like that and walk away with either. More than one dumbass has learned that the hard way.” Tony answered truthfully then started to chuckle even harder. “You don’t under any circumstances want to challenge them to a rat-race. You’ll lose more than just the race. You lose your car.”

McFeeters looked at Tony as the warning sank in and chuckled. “Young man I take that you’re part of their pit crews.” Tony just nodded his head. “If what I have heard from Mr. Maybach is true then they can have my money. I think it a shame that you cannot claim your record at Darlington.”

“Before you sign that contract McFeeters you should see what they can do on a REAL race track first. Once you see that they’re nothing but hype you’ll be more than happy to sign with a REAL racing team.” The moment I heard the man’s accent I knew that I was going to hate the asshole. I’ve never been a big fan of the Italians and their attitudes towards none European racers. “ALL that American racing is going around and around in circles. No real skill is involved. My seven-year-old boy can do that.”

Yup, I hated the fuck wad, alright. Before I could put the man in his place though Mr. McFeeters glared at the man and growled. “Fontana there is one thing you need to understand here. Darlington Raceway is the oldest paved NASCAR raceway. It is also the track that those drivers were training on the hardest. You race the track not the other drivers there. As for the European courses there is none that compare. You want a REAL challenge of your skills behind the wheel? Then do what this young lady and her sister did on a track that has been called the Track TOO Tough to TAME. And for damned good reason.”

“Here, here, well said, David. Well said indeed.” The refined and cultured voice of the woman who had walked up just then made me do a double take. I don’t know who this woman was, but she really cowed the Italian dipshit with just an icy glare. “Unless you have driven on a true NASCAR track you need to curb your attitude. Those men and women will put your arrogant ass into the wall. Just to teach you some manners.”

McFeeters went in for the kill. “And unless you’ve danced at over two-hundred miles per hour going three-wide into turn three at Pocono or drove through the big one at Talladega. You haven’t driven yet. Until you do then you need to correct your attitude.”

“They are nothing more than a publicity stunt. It will become apparent the moment they qualify. Or should I say fail to qualify.” Fontana snapped as he turned and walked away. He stopped and looked over at me. “And you little girl. Don’t get in my way. You do, and you’ll regret it. As I put you into the wall.”

“You know something partner.” Tony growled behind me. “You really need to check that shit at the door. You really DON’T know who you’re screwing with. Take this as your last warning. Race clean, race respectful. You don’t, and Bobbie has no problem with getting down and dirty. She has no problems with putting people into the ditch or wall at over one-twenty.”

“Anthony, calm down.” Mom ordered as Tony blushed at having his full name used that way. “Bobbie and Beth will show him and the others that our girls are no publicity stunt.”

Tony just nodded his head saying. “Yes, ma’am Mrs. McGuire.”

“I must say Jewels, you have your young team will trained.” I wanted to say something to the lady, but I still didn’t know her name. Mom on the other hand didn’t have that problem.

“Clarice, when it comes to my team’s pit crews there is something you need to understand. They are highly disciplined, and highly dedicated professionals. They may be young, but don’t try them. They will hurt you and not care. It is a product of their upbringing. Just as my daughters drive to the fullest of their abilities our pit crews strive to excel in their own field.” There was something in mom’s voice that I knew all too well. She was in her ‘don’t screw with me’ mama bear mode.

The people that were around us started to chuckle. I don’t know what was going on, but it seems that a lot of these people knew mom better than I knew. One guy even shouted out. “AND the Bitch is back! Good to have you on the circuit again Jewels.”

“Herman, you can stop now. It my daughters’ time to shine.” For one of the few times I saw my mother blush. Whatever the story was behind her blushing I really wanted to know. “My time in the sun has long passed me and Robert by. No need to bring up old stories.”

“Now, now, Jewels. I’m sure that your daughters would love to hear about your time as one of the best engine mechanics on the circuit.” Clarice said with a smug tone. “Or that Robert paid his way through college by working in the pits.”

Now this was all news to me and Beth. We knew that mom and dad had ties to NASCAR, F1, and the other racing industries. We didn’t know that they actually worked the race circuit though. “I had thought that they met in college.”

Mom sighed. “We did meet in college Roberta. We also got married while in college. We got our start though by working as members of established racing firms. Me for my engine transmission designs and your father for his car designs.”

“What she isn’t saying is how she earned her nickname, Roberta.” Clarice said with a smile. “She was so protective of her designs that pit crews called her the Wicked Bitch of the garage.”

“Um… excuse me ma’am. But who are you?” Beth asked what was on my mind. And that of others as well.

“Girls, Anthony, the woman who has been talking out of school is Clarice Thomson. CEO of Marketing for K&N high performance air filters.” Mom growled through clenched teeth. “And don’t pay her any attention. She loves to spread rumors.”

“Oh, you love it and you know it, Jewels.” The man who had hollered out earlier chided my mom. “It has been too long since you last graced our raceways. Twenty-one-years too long.”

I looked over at mom to see her blushing. She was actually embarrassed by the greeting she was getting. I know that this was supposed to be mine and Beth’s introduction, but it was fast turning into a welcoming return to the sport for mom. I wonder how dad was doing down in the garage areas. I would have to wait to find out. For now, I still had to deal with the meet and greet.

“The man with the load mouth is Herman Shultz for Triple S Motor Sports girls. He is a bigger scoundrel than your father. Just as loveable too.” Mom gave the man a friendly hug. “We heard about Gretchen. Did the flowers arrive in time?”

“They were quite beautiful, Jewels. Gretchen also did love her bluebells. She went quietly and in no pain.” Herman turned somber. “She would have loved to meet your daughters.”

“She would have scolded them for putting up with that ass Fontana. If she had been here I think it would have been a toss up between who got to gut the man first. Roberta or her.” I didn’t know who mom was talking about but guessed that she was the man’s dead wife. At least I hoped so.

“You know that she would have beaten Roberta to the punch by pulling sonority of survivorship.” At my blank look Herman gave me a smile. “Gretchen was my oldest daughter. She would have been nineteen this year. She succumbed to her cancer last year.”

“You have my sympathies, sir. I know how hard it can be to fight back after a while. If it wasn’t for my sister there are times that I would have given in.” I was honest with the man. I knew exactly where his daughter had to have been mentally.

“It sounds like you have some experience with cancer young lady.” I turned to looked at Clarice before just nodding my head. “I see. Then it is no wonder that you do not fear the tracks or high-speeds. You most have been close a few times.”

You would have thought that the AC just got turned down to minus twenty below. If it hadn’t then it was mom’s tone of voice that dropped the temperature of the room. Even I was a little worried over what she might say.

“What my daughter has faced in her short life is not open for comment Clarice. All of you need to understand this right now. If one word of what my child has gone through ever leeks out. I will own your fucking company. If you doubt me, let me remind you all of how I handled stupid people that tried to get a hold of my designs. I don’t take prisoners.” Mom growled as she looked at one man in particular. “Horatio, I would suggest that you get your people in line before I let my daughter handle the problem.”

The man just nodded his head and kissed mom’s hand. “Consider it done Jewels. Not one word will ever escape our lips.”

“See that it doesn’t. Should that happen, I will order my daughters to take no prisoners on the track.” I don’t know what mom was driving at but I just smiled. There was no humor in the smile when the man looked over at me and Beth he shivered.

“Jewels, why do I have the feeling that your daughters would joyfully put the other drivers into the wall?” He asked mom.

“Because they don’t play games. Remember they have grown up driving and racing on the back roads of Darlington County. A place where winners are scored by the cars they leave in the ditch.” Mom told the man with a predatory smile. “For them the old saying of ‘If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.’ Is a way of life.”

To say that mom had just dropped a bomb was an understatement. I looked over at Beth and she just gave me a smirk. “Damned straight. Time to set the world on fire mom.”

“Elizabeth. How many times have I talked with you about your language? You can expect Coach Hall to have a word with you in the morning about proper lady like behavior.” I wanted to giggle at Beth being scolded in front of everybody but knew better.

I didn’t escape mom’s temper. “The same goes for you Roberta. I heard your language earlier with Mr. Rubbart.”

“Shit.” I mumbled under my breath. Only to get a glare from mom and chuckles for the rest of the crowd. “Sorry.”

“Jewels your daughters are a breath of fresh air. Let me make a complementary offer to David’s. Hersey will match their offer dollar for dollar. Across the whole of the contract.” Rubbart said with a confidence that showed his arrogance.

“James I suggest you hear my offer before you say that.” McFeeters told Rubbart quickly. Only to have me jump on the offer before the man could change his mind.

“DONE.” I gave mom a sly smile as I went in for the kill. “Let’s see that will be a hundred dollars to the Ronald McDonald Houses out of your own pocket for every lap we run. For every car we pass two hundred, for every lap either one of us leads a thousand, and for every race we win you’ll match the purse. Plus, two and a half million in standard sponsorship. Is that right mom?”

“With the exception of the two-point-five million yes. The standard sponsorship Mr. McFeeters has offered is a straight five million, Roberta. Though I think we can let Mr. Rubbart off with just honoring the two-point-five IF he consents to the rest.” Mom was in her HBIC mode. When she gets like this not even dad tries to change her mind. It’s one of the reasons MRDI is successful.

Had turned white when he heard what McFeeters had offered. When mom backed my play, I knew that we had him. He couldn’t backdown, not when he made the offer in front of all the other Executives. Especial now that mom threw him a bone by letting his company off with just 2.5 million in sponsorship fees. I waited as Rubbart thought things over before he just nodded his head then smiled.

“No. I said that I and my company would match David’s offer, Jewels. I meant what I said, and I’ll stand by that. If it is five-million then that is what we’ll pay.” I could tell that Rubbart didn’t like being backed into a corner, but he did it to himself. The man let his alligator mouth overload his jaybird ass.

“Then as my daughter said. Done. I’ll send the contract over by courier once it has been drawn up for your signature, James.” Mom told the man with a smile.

Clarice started to chuckle. “Once again, Jewels, you have shown the men of our world that the female is the deadlier of the species. Especially when it comes to protecting their young.”

“Now, Clarice you know better than that.” Mom pouted. “Besides, I wasn’t the one to bring in those deals. That was Roberta.”

“Now, wait one minute here mom. All I did was talk to Mr. McFeeters and Mr. Rubbart. They were the ones to approach me.” I countered with a smile. There was no way I was going to take all the credit for landing the two sponsors. “You were the one to work the deals.”

“Is that so young lady? I distinctly remember you basically accepting a generous offer as a challenge. Then upping the ante before I even realized what you were doing.” Mr. Rubbart smirked.

“Hey, that was your fault not mine. You made the bet before realizing the stakes.” I quickly countered.

“I must say Jewels, your daughters are just as feisty as you are. Do they drive with the same passion?” Shultz asked mom.

“Herman, there are two things you need to know about my daughters. First, they always race for cash or pinks. Their passion has always been fast cars and racing those same cars. Not always legally. Secondly, they’ll run a clean race, until it is time to play dirty. When they play dirty, they play hard.” Mom just let that predatory smile of hers grow as she described the way me and Beth drove. “Treat them with respect or pay the price.”

“It seems that the Wicked Bitch has decided to let her daughters take over for her on the track.” A new man said with a smile. He pulled mom into a hug. “Good to have you back Jewels. It has been too long. Where is Robert? Shouldn’t he be here with you? Or is he down in the pits as usual?”

“Johnathan, so good to see old friend. Where is Trisha?” Mom said as she returned the hug.

“Where else? Down in the garage fussing over her babies.” This Johnathan guy told mom.

“The same with Robert.” Mom chuckled and turned to me and Beth. “Girls I would like for you to meet Johnathan Worth. Lead designer for the TRI racing team. He and his wife are also a very old friends of mine and your father.”

“Is that all you can say? Old friends. Really Jewels!” Johnathan huffed before turning me and Beth. “What your mother should be saying is that we’re as close to being family as you can get. Your parents introduced me to my wife. We’ve know each other for more than twenty-two years.”

He took my right and kissed the back of it smiling. “Johnathan Worth young lady. At your service. Beautiful flowers such you and your sister really need to sign with a larger firm. We could do so much together.”

“Tell me something, sir. Have you always been full of shit?” I asked him with a straight face. When I really wanted to smack him. The room busted out in laughter as I wiped my hand on the handkerchief that Tony handed me. I looked over at mom. “Mama, can I get a disinfectant for my hand?”

My words set off another round of laughter. Even Johnathan was chuckling. “Jewels, do me a favor?”

“What is it, Johnathan?”

“Whatever happens, if you ever let your daughters drive for someone else. You give me a call first.” Johnathan had turned deadly serious as he talked with mom.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because no one else is going to be able to handle them.” He looked over at me and Beth. “I have seen passionate drivers before, but none that are so dynamically different. One fire, one ice.”

Tony just had to comment. “They’re our Princesses of Fire and Ice.”

-----tbc-----

Chapter 11
Saturday, practice times and Qualifying.
Friday went down just like I told Mr. Corely it would. I was beat by the time I climbed into bed last night. Between all the practice time on the track and the press conference where it was announced who my sponsors were, to the dinner last night. I just want to curl up in bed and do nothing this morning. The only problem with that is I have to be down at the pits for qualifying today. It is going to be another long day to boot.

Yesterday’s practice sessions drove an unexpected point home for me. Racing at Darlington or any NASCAR track, with the exceptions of the road courses Watkins Glen and Sonoma, is nothing like racing a Formula One course. Even the short tracks like Martinsville or Dover or Richmond are totally different animals than what I spent my time dealing with yesterday. No two turns were the same and each one had to be attacked in a different manner. It was being like back home and rat racing the guys on back country roads. I’m not talking about the paved roads, but all the dirt and red clay roads. The only difference is, here those roads are paved.

I swear the first five laps on that track made me feel like I didn’t belong behind the wheel. I must have slid sideways through just about every damned turn. If I hadn’t learned how to drift I know I would have wiped out at least four or five times. It took me the whole two-hour practice session to finally get the feel of the track at speed. Talk about your wake-up calls. Chief Hailee chewed my ass out for pushing the car for those first five laps. I don’t even want to think about how bad the tires were after that practice. Three full sets ruined. That’s three sets we won’t have for Qualifying or for the race tomorrow. And it is all my fault.

Yup you heard right. I’m the one to blame for those ruined tires and no one else. I let that pasta slurping, cheap wine guzzling, asshole sniffing, greaseball Guido, Fontana, get into my head at that meet and greet. Now that I have had time to think about it, that was the only reason for him being there. To throw me and Beth off our game. The bastard succeeded with me but failed miserably with Beth. I think I know why too. Our two styles of driving are so different that, what works for one doesn’t for the other.

Even the way our cars are setup reflect the way we drive. Beth with her cold analytical approach to driving is going to be far less subjectable to mind games. While I am the passion driven driver. I drive with my feelings. Fontana has already figured this out about me. It gave him an off the track advantage in screwing with me. He got me mad enough to make mistakes during practice. Mistakes that could have really fucked up my chances at proving to the world that I belong in this sport. Mistakes that could have turned deadly if I hadn’t had so much experience on backcountry roads rat-racing. He had gotten into my head so bad that not even my race-mix could calm me down.

It took dad pulling me off to the side during a break between practices to get my head back in the game. He had found out about what happened between Fontana and me from mom. “Bobbie please tell me that you’re not letting Fontana’s little mind-games fuck with your head girl?” When I thought about what he asked I just had to nod my head. “GOD DAMN IT! BOBBIE! I taught you better than that. How many fucking times do we have to go over this? Drive with your damned head and don’t let your fucking feelings get in the way.”

Dad took a deep breath and calmed down before continuing with chewing my ass. “I don’t care what those other assholes think. Neither should you. They don’t know what I know. You’re one of the finest drivers I have ever seen, Bobbie. I’m not saying that because you’re my daughter. I’m saying that because it’s the truth. Before your sister, you, and Joey came along, your mother and I worked with some of the best drivers in the world. I’ve seen you drive, baby girl, and I know that you can be one of the greats. You just need to drive the way you know how to, and piss on what everyone else thinks. You’ve already earned your right to be out there. Just go out there and run your race, nobody else’s, understand?”

For the second half of the practice I did exactly what dad told me to do. He even went up to the spotter’s nest to talk me through the course. Just the sound of dad’s voice as he talked me through each turn and so-called straightaways helped me get Fontana out of my head. Towards the end of yesterday’s practice both Beth and I were putting down real competition times and speeds. I know that we’ll stand a good chance at qualifying today.

I grab my equipment bag and head out for the track. I know that I’ll be there before any of the other drivers, but I don’t care. Beth, Kelly, and Tony were waiting for me as I exited my room. “Morning guys.”

“Morning lover. You ready for today?” Kelly asked as she hugged me.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Kelly.” I returned the hug and stepped back. “Well sis, you ready to see if we got what it takes?”

“Nope. I’m ready to take the pole and show those ass wipes that we’re not some fucking publicity stunt.” I swear I’ve never seen Beth this pissed. I guess Fontana got to her more than she was letting on.

Tony placed his arm across her shoulders. “Calm down Beth. You need to relax and get your head in the game, love. You go out there thinking like that and you’ll be making the same mistakes Bobbie did yesterday.” Tony leaned in and kissed Beth on the cheek. “Remember, save the tires and engine for the race. Drive the way Chief Marks told you, and you’ll qualify.”

He looked over at me and smiled. “Leave the crazy shit to Bobbie. That’s what she’s good at. You’re our Ice Princess. Drive that way.”

“No shit, Beth. I’m the one that’s supposed to be all emotional on the track. Let me be the asshole out there.” The sly smile I gave Beth had her looking at me as if I had lost my mind. “We’re a team. If the other drivers are looking for me to get stupid, they’ll be too worried to even consider you as a threat. You just drive right on past them to the pole position. Come tomorrow they’ll be trying to figure out how to get past you, while I drive my way through the field. Before they know what is happening we take first and second places at the checkered flag. We go home with the purse and leave them wondering what the fuck just happened.”

Beth smiled at me and hefted her gear bag. “Let’s go racing, little sister.”

We didn’t have half the problems the other drivers did getting to the track. Being the new comers and relatively unknown the four of us just walked over to the track. The guards let us in after we showed our passes and ids. I thought that one guard was going to flip when he found out that Beth and I were two of the newest drivers on the circuit. Tony broke off from us when we got to our area in the garages. Beth, me and Kelly, headed for the women’s locker room. Tony headed over to the guys locker room. I took my time and got myself in the right headspace for today. The final practice this morning followed by a warmup then qualifying. I put in the earbuds of my I-pod and hit play. I let my mind drift out towards the track. I go over every turn in my head as I listen to my race-mix.

Turn 1 is a tight righthander with turn 2 being a quick jog back to the left followed by the first straightaway. The temptation to open up the engine is going to be a bitch to fight, but I need to keep my foot out of the gas here. Turn 3 comes up fast and is a hard righthander with turn 4 immediately thereafter. I let the car slide over to the curb. I need the room here as it is one of the few places on the course where you can pass. It’s a short jog straightaway to turn 5 a reasonable righthander but little room to make a move. I know that this is only sector one, but it’ll still be a royal bitch to screw up here blowing the race.

Sector two starts off with a quick turn 6-7 chicane. Turn 8 is a long righthander followed by a sharp ninety to the right for turn 9. The exit of 9 is straight into turn 10. Turn 10 is an easy lefthander that exits into the last straightaway before sector three. Sector three is when it starts to get fun for me.

It starts off with a very quick turn 11-12 chicane an area I can’t let my guard down in. Turn 12 exits out onto a winding straightaway that I can use for passing. If I time it right, if not it’s the grass for sure. The straightaway ends with a hard-ninety-degree righthand turn. Turn 13 opens up to a short straightaway to dumps into turn 14. A wide turn that gives plenty of room for passing. But it has to be done quick because turn 15 is like a rattlesnake strike. It comes out of nowhere and is a hairpin lefthanded turn. The g’s in this area are a real bitch and the car wants to slide to the righthand side of the track. Pulling out of turn 15 it’s a short shot to another righthander for turn 16. Turn 16 empties out onto the final straightaway and the start/finish line. It’s here that will be my last chance to make a sure but clean pass before the finish line.

“HEY! BOBBIE!” I snap out of my thoughts by Cassy shouting at me. “Time for the final practice get out here already.”

I grabbed my gloves and helmet then headed outside. I’m still getting used to the feel of the new team leathers. I would have preferred to wear my old ones, but the ‘bosses’ over at Mercedes-Benz ordered these new ones just for this season. As I approach the car I notice that Chief Hailee had a disgusted look on his face. That could mean only one thing. We were having to use a new type of tire. That was one rule that I was REALLY starting to hate.

Ever since the rule for F1 tires in 2016 was changed, the regulations allow Pirelli to select three different tires for each race, and each team could only choose the tires from those three depending on the strategies. This concept continued into 2017, but with Pirelli's thicker and wider tires that were tested extensively the previous year.

Tire selections are announced over a month before each event, with the rules stating Pirelli must announce compounds 9 weeks before a European round and 15 weeks before a long-haul event. Drivers ordinarily get to select 10 of the 13 sets available for a race weekend, though Pirelli's new tires means the Italian company will force each driver to stick to the same allocations for the first five races as it learns about the new tires.

I don’t mind helping a company learn about their product but when it can hamper my ability to perform that rubs me the wrong way, especially if it can give a competitor the edge in a race. I’m not throwing any stones here. I’m just saying that the Italian teams are their home team. Pirelli is an Italian based company. National pride can blind one to honest competition.

What that means for me is that for the opening five races is I started off with seven sets of the softest compound, four sets of the middle compound and two sets of the hardest compound available. I’ve already torn up 3 sets of the softest compound tires during practice yesterday. Basically, I’m down to just 10 sets tires for final practice, qualifying, and the race tomorrow. Not a good situation. Time to face the music. “How bad is it Chief Hailee?”

“Let’s just say that this is one time I wish you had gone with a NASCAR team, Bobbie. That or an Indy car team.” He placed his hand on the left front tire. “This set of tires are from the middle compound. I don’t know how the car will handle, Bobbie. You’re going to have to give me a shit load of feedback during the first half of practice. We’ll be switching over to one of the hardest sets for the last half. I know that you don’t want to hear this, but with our tire situation we’re having to do things on the fly here. You might have to qualify on the second set. It’ll depend on how the tires perform.”

I looked at him and smiled. It was my fault that we were in this predicament. “Chief Hailee just give me what you can. I’ll deal with it. I’m the one that got us into this situation, I’ll be the one that gets us out of it. this is nobody’s fault but my own. You and the team have done your parts and done them right. I was the one who screwed the pooch by letting another driver get in my head yesterday. I got my head in the game now. It’s time for me to put up or shut up.”

“About damned time too!” Greg popped off. “You’re better than that Bobbie. Go out there and show them all what you look like when you got your game face on. We’re all behind you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed at the stupidity of the situation. Here was one of my old high school’s top athletes giving me a pep talk. Then again Greg Smokes should have been looking at going to one of the top colleges in the US. Instead he’s here working as a member of my pit crew because a pack of delinquents screwed up the chances for my pit crews. Jose Chamberlin and Will Hackney helped me into the driver’s seat as Danny Hailee held my helmet and gloves. Once I was strapped in Danny double checked the harness and handed me my I-pod. I tucked it down inside my suit after connecting it into the radio. I put ear pug/phones in and reached for my gloves. With everything in place, I put on my helmet then signaled for the engine start.

I feel more than hear the massive turbocharged 1.6-litre V6 engine turn over. I can already tell that the demon is pulling at its leash just wanting to tear into its prey. I as rollout of the garage I have to fight the urge to drop the hammer. Even as I pullout onto the track I kept control over my emotions, and my car. I take my time with the first lap just getting a feel for the car with the new type of tire. By the time I’ve made my seventh lap I can tell that the middle compound tires are going to be best for the second half of the race. Unless it rains tonight then the softer tires were going to be the way to go. I finished the first half of the practice and pulled into the pits like Chief Hailee wanted.

One point nine-eight seconds later I was on my back out onto the track with a set of the hardest tires. I knew right away that I would only used this set as a last resort. The car handled like a stagecoach and rode like a cement truck with a full load. I gave Chief Hailee all the feedback I could on the way the car handled. It wasn’t until the fifth lap on the new tires that the handling came back. Chief Marks figured out what was going on faster than Hailee or me. The hotter the tires got the better they gripped the track. Unlike with the tires from yesterday or the ones from earlier these don’t heat up as fast. The whole trick to using these tires is going to be timing. Timing and a whole lot of strategy.

When I pulled in at the end of practice I knew that both Beth and me would qualify somewhere in the middle of the pack. We just had to go out there and drive the way WE know how. The track was getting faster and loser the hotter it got. The hotter it got the more rubber got laid down in the turns. This was both good and bad. So long as the temperature continued to rise, and it doesn’t rain we should be able to turnout some really fast qualifying times. On the other hand, the hotter the track gets the slicker the surface will become. Making the handling of the cars that much harder in the corners and a real bitch going into the straightaways. It’s a trade off between speed and handling. The hotter the track the faster you can go, but the faster you go the harder it is to corner.

As I climb out the car Chief Hailee gives me a smile. “You did good out there Bobbie. You gave us some good feedback on those tires and how they effect the car’s handling. By the way why did you wait until the fourth lap before really getting on the throttle?”

“Those last tires made the car feel like I was trying to drive a stagecoach, Chief. I was bouncing around all over the place and fighting to just keep a straight line. Every corner felt like I was driving a cement truck with a full load. The ass end kept wanting to slide out wide in chicanes. The handling didn’t come back until I hit lap four.” I thought he heard what I told him during the run. Could I have been wrong.

“That’s what we thought. Marks figured it out by the time you and Beth had your third lap on those tires. You girls did real good. Now, go get something to eat, and drink some water. You got an hour before warmup and the start of Q1.” I smiled at Chief Hailee and did as he told me.

Two 18oz bottles of water, a cold Chefs salad, a short trip to the restroom, and I was on my way back to the pits. I was met by mom, and dad halfway back. They weren’t alone. Mr. Gunderson, Mr. Rubbart, Mr. McFeeters, and Mrs. Goldberg were with them. I could tell that something was up by the look in my parents’ eyes. They were worried about something.

“What’s going on mom?”

“I don’t know how to say this Bobbie, so I’ll come straight to the point. Mr. Rubbart and McFeeters have heard about your relationship with Kelly.” The look on mom’s face said it all. They were worried about corporate image. Their companies had clean wholesome family images and the idea of them supporting a lesbian driver didn’t fit that image.

“Let me guess they want to back out of their contracts?” I snarled. Looking over at the two men I wanted to spit in their faces. “Fine. If they don’t have the courage to get with the times, then the hell with them. Right now, I got a race to qualify for. We’ll be just fine without them or their money.”

With that I turned and walked off. As I was walking away I heard Mr. Rubbart start to complain to mom. “She wasn’t even going to hear us. Why didn’t you stop her? It’s not like this is the end of the world. She just needs to understand that there will be time for her to have a love life later on.”

I spotted cold and spun on my heel. I practically charged the man as I got right up in his face. “That’s just it, Mr. Rubbart. I don’t have TIME. I’m living on barrowed time as it is now. I’ve been in remission for four years now. NOT cured remission. My leukemia can return without warning at any time. That is something I deal with every day that I wake up. There is no way in hell that I’m going to put anything on hold just to pacify some corporate suit monkey’s ideal of what is proper for my image.”

“Well said, Miss McGuire. If McFeeters and Rubbart wish to pull out then I will gladly pickup their contracts.” Mrs. Goldberg said with a smile. “GO out there and show these two fools that who you love has nothing to do with the way you drive.”

I looked over at Mrs. Goldberg. “Don’t worry about that Mrs. Goldberg. I fully plan on being in the top ten at the start of the race.” Turning back to McFeeters I snarled. “You can pull your companies support. I don’t need their name on my car. HOWEVER, your private commitment is another story. You back out on that, and I’ll ruin you name. Not only will I spread the word that you welched on a bet, but you did it after pulling your sponsorship. No one will be willing to let you back them after I get done with you.”

Dad started to chuckle at the stunned looks of Mr. McFeeters and Rubbart. “We warned you gentlemen. Bobbie doesn’t take well to people backing of a bet. You fail to keep up your private obligations she will sue the fuck out of your asses, while dragging your names through the mud.”

“Don’t worry Miss McGuire, I’ve never backed out of a bet and I won’t start now. I’ll stand by our agreement.” McFeeters said with a chuckle and a look of admiration for my attitude. “I wish that circumstances were different, and we could openly support your team. But I have to follow the directives of the board. This may be the twenty-first century, but some changes take time. Unfortunately, this is one such situation.”

“Sadly, I agree with my friend, Miss McGuire.” Rubbart sighed. “Don’t worry about our private agreement. I will uphold my end. I just wish that my board of directors weren’t so old fashion. I see you going a long way in this sport. A long way indeed. I imagine that one day you’ll be the Champion.”

“I got one question. How did you find out about me and Kelly?” I asked them both coldly. “We’ve kept our relationship very quiet and out of the public.”

“We both ran background checks as is normal in our business when sponsoring a major contract such as yours. It seems that your relationship with Miss Ringwald is well known in your hometown. That was not the only discrepancy that our P.I.s found. Your mother and father explained the reasons behind those and had us sign nondisclosure agreements.” Rubbart explained with a lopsided smiled before continuing. “I read over those agreements and they are iron clad. Only a fool will try breaking them.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. If my secret got out, my career as a driver would be over in the blink of an eye. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

I thought about the way they were handling the matter and had an idea. “Mr. Rubbart, Mr. McFeeters, have you ever heard that old Jim Croce song ‘You don’t mess around with Jim’?” Both men just chuckled and nodded their heads. “Every sport needs its bad boy or girl. I’ll play the part as the newcomer bad girl giving you the needed excuse to pull out of your backing in public, meanwhile you continue to support my sister. Everybody saves face and my secret stays my secret along with my love life.”

Mrs. Goldberg chuckled. “You do know how that song ends, Bobbie?”

“Sure. You don’t tug on Superman’s cape. You don’t spit into the wind. You don’t pull the mask off that ol’ Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with Slim.” I sang for her with a smile. “Only I have no intention of playing the part of Jim. I plan on being the wildcard on every track I race.”

Mrs. Goldberg chuckled even harder. “I fully believe that you will make quite a name for yourself, Roberta. My only question is, are you willing to truly play the part of the bad girl?”

I just chuckled. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve already earned a reputation as a real hothead. It won’t take much to play it up with the press.”

“Just don’t play it up too much.” McFeeters warned me. At my questioning look he smiled. “We may not support you publicly Bobbie, but I can swing a behind the scenes deal with no problem. After all, we’re sponsoring MRDI, not just a single driver. I can sell that to the board.”

“Done deal, Mr. McFeeters. Now if you’ll excuse me. I need to get ready for Qualifying.” As I turned to walk away I smiled. “You’ll want to get a good seat. Because I plan to show the WORLD what a South Carolina redneck gal can do when she puts her mind to it.”

I grabbed Beth as I walked passed her pit area. “Have you heard what is going down with our sponsors Beth?”

“Yeah, they were by here earlier. Look Bobbie, I don’t know how you feel about it, but if they won’t sponsor you then to hell with them. We can do this on our own. I know that we can win enough races to cover our expenses.”

“Relax, Beth. I made a new deal with them.” I gave her a smile that never reached my eyes. “You just drive the way we planned.”

“What are you up to, Bobbie?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll be living up to old Iron Panties expectation of me. I’m going to be a real ‘bad girl’ on the tracks.” I started to giggle at the look on Beth’s face. “I’m going to show them all what a TRUE daughter of the Confederacy can do on a race track.”

“Lee may have surrendered, but we started the war. Is that it, Bobbie?” Beth asked with a smile. “Just remember that being the bad girl has its draw backs. The other drivers will be gunning for you.”

“Let ‘em come, Beth. Let ‘em come.” I snarled. “Like I said this morning. Let them worry about me. You drive for the checkered.”

Beth gave me a quick hug. “I’ll watch your back as best that I can Bobbie.”

I returned the hug. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Pulling back, I gave her a wink. “Besides, I’m the one painting the target on my back. No one else is putting it there.”

I hugged her one more time. Then headed for my car. It was time for warm-up and qualifying. The warm-up went without problems both Beth and I brought in a decent time. During the first qualifying both Beth and I brought in times just microseconds apart after just eight laps. Beth made the first with a time of one minute, twenty-three, point eight-three-nine seconds. I barely beat her at one minute, twenty-three, point eight-three-three seconds. I got more than a little joy over the time that Fontana put up. He barely made the field with a qualifying time of one minute, twenty-five point one-eight seconds. As much as I wanted to gloat I knew that I couldn’t. I knew that we had the second and third round to go yet.

It was during the second round of qualifying or Q2 that I started to earn my bad girl reputation. More than a few of the other drivers found out what is was like to have someone riding their ass end. I know that tailgating was a sure-fire way to get on another driver’s nerves. That was one lesson I learned from watching Dale ‘the Intimidator’ Earnhardt videos. I knew that if I was going to pull off the bad girl he would be my role model. If I can make them uncomfortable on the track all the better for Beth and me.

At the end of Q2 Beth landed solidly in sixth place with a time of one minute, twenty-three, point three seconds after fourteen laps. This time she beat my time by a full two-one-hundredths of a second. She was also three positions in front of me. If I was going to be of any help for her during the race, I need to move up at least two positions during Q3.

We pushed our cars to their limits for the next five laps. I knew that we were on the edge of the top five already, but I wanted the pole. So, when I saw the driver for Toyota spinout coming through turn eight I dropped the hammer. I blew passed him before the yellow could come out. The one to two second mistake on his part was more than enough to clinch our places in the top five positions. Chief Hailee and Marks were practically dancing in the pits when we pulled in at the end of Q3.

I hadn’t even gotten my harness undone good before Hailee was practically lifting out of my seat. “Way to go Bobbie girl! I’ve seen drivers in my time that couldn’t have done half as well as you girl. What the hell did you do to Caldera out there? How the hell did you get him to spinout like that?”

I started to laugh. “I had nothing to do with that. He did all on his own. I swear to god.”

“Bullshit! He was bitching over the radio about you crowding his ass end.” Danny cracked just before the very driver he was talking about stormed into our pit area screaming for my blood.

“Where’s that fucking cunt? I want her god damned head.” I turned to look at the man and just smiled.

“You mean me? Or are you yelling for your mama?” I know that I’m pushing things with the joker right now. It’s not my fault he lost it on the track.

“WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!” the man screamed and started to come at me. Only to find the Four Horsemen stepping in his way. “Get out of my way!”

Danny looked him dead in the face. “Buddy boy, if I was you I would runaway before you get hurt. Hurt bad, understand?”

The driver looked passed Danny and the guys over at me. “If I was you little girl, I would watch you back out there on the track. You keep making enemies out there and sooner or later someone is going to make you pay.”

The members from the other pit crew walked up behind the asshole. Tony placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Walk away now. This is your only warning.”

The driver got the hint and left our area in a hurry. I looked over at Chief Hailee. “Who was that shithead?”

“That Bobbie was the shmuck who went spinning out of control in turn six just before you blew past him. One Ricardo Caldera, driver for Toyota motorsports. And number one asshole behind the bullshit that has been going in the pit area. Well, him and his team.” Danny said from behind me.

“If he thinks I was riding his ass this afternoon. Wait until tomorrow.” I snarled. “These shitbirds only think they’ve seen intimidation on the track. They haven’t seen shit yet.”

Chief Marks gave me a cold eye before asking with a chuckle in his voice. “Wreck or win, Bobbie?”

“You know it Chief Marks.” I never took my eyes off of where Caldera stormed off to. “Him and all of these morons haven’t a clue as to what they just pissed off. I plan on introducing them to Intimidator driving.”

“Just make sure you don’t get the half black, half white flag. We don’t need you getting nailed for unsporting behavior. That or a flat-out black flag. We need you to complete the race more than driving the other drivers into the wall.” Chief Marks warned me.

“I hear you Chief Marks. Trust me I hear you loud and clear.” What I didn’t tell him was that I had my reasons for pushing the edge. I took the bottle of water that Roger handed me and took a long drink from it. “By the way where did Beth place?”

“She placed right in front of you Bobbie. You girls are going to be on the third row. She qualified fifth while you took sixth. There was less than a one-one-hundredth of a second between your times.” Chief Hailee said with some pride as he held up his clipboard. “Beth’s time was one minute, twenty-two point one-five-five seconds. You crossed the line at one minute, twenty-two point one-five-six seconds. Like I said you girls did one hell of a job out there today. Now we need to debrief the team and then you, and Beth have that press conference back at the hotel.”

For the next hour and half, we went over how the car handled in each turn on the different tire compounds. We went over how to adjust the wings and stabilizers for the race. We went into the way the car handled in every turn and on each straightaway. Nothing was left on the table. I know that both Beth and I would have continued to discuss strategy with the teams. But we had a stupid press conference to attend.

After a quick stop back at my room for a shower and change of clothes I head downstairs for the press conference. I was wishing that Kelly could be with me, but she had her own job to do in the pits. For the next hour Beth and I answered questions thrown at us by every reporter who had not meet us on Wensday night. When we finally got away from the vultures both Beth and I headed for our rooms to change and clean up one last time.

Mom told us that we had three hours before we had to be across town for a dinner with potential sponsors. This one was setup by Mr. Gunderson to showcase mom and dad’s work. This one was totally about MRDI. For which I’m so happy about that I’m close to dancing naked in the streets. It means that I don’t have to stick around for very long. Once I put in my facetime I plan on slipping out and coming back here to get some sleep. I’ll be honest. I’m dragging ass right now. Between the two practices, warmup, and triple qualifying, I have really pushed myself today. I did one thing for myself once I got back to my room. I grabbed a quick nap.

At a little before five-thirty my alarm went off waking me up. I quickly showered, dressed, did my makeup, and headed down the hall to meet up with Beth. With an hour to go before we had to be at the dinner Beth and I headed over to Castle Berries Stake Emporium. I know that once we leave the hotel we can no longer hide in the background of the weekend. Our performance this afternoon made sure of that. I mean we came out of nowhere and secured the number five and six positions for the start of the race.

Beth just gave me a lopsided smile as she exited her room. “Looking good baby sister. You really pull off that LBD and heels.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” I looked down at the knee length cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline as I took in Beth’s outfit. The ice-blue A-line cocktail dress was off the shoulder and bareback. In short with her coloring and hair the whole thing came together to give her the perfect Queen Elsa look. “You know that they’ll really tag you with Ice Queen now.”

“Fucking let ‘em. After today we’re both going to be hammered on our nicknames. Especially you baby girl. I heard about how you were tailgating the other drivers. I just want to know where you got the Intimidator idea?” I could tell by the look in her eyes Beth already knew. She just wanted me to confirm her suspicions.

“The way I see it Beth I could go one of two routes. Follow two of the greatest NASCAR drivers or one of the most hated NASCAR drivers. I choose to follow one of the greatest. Dale ‘the Intimidator’ Earnhardt Sr. won seven championships by going out there and scaring the shit out of the other drivers. The way I figure it, the best way to protect my secret is to go out there and drive as hard, as fast, as mean, as I can.” I started to giggle at the look on Beth’s face. “Like dad always says. Driving in ninety percent mental, five percent physical, and five percent preparation. Screw with the other guy’s mind enough and you’ll win. All I did today was to screw with their minds by riding their asses.”

“Well, from what I was hearing in the other garage areas. You definitely drove the point home not to screw with MRDI.” Beth leaned in a hugged me. “If I didn’t know that you had such a big heart little sister, you would scare the crap out of me on the track.”

“Let’s keep that under your hat sis. No need to let the competition know that I got a soft spot. Just do me a favor tonight.” I asked of Beth.

“What’s that?”

“Do not leave me alone, PLEASE!” I pleaded with her as I pulled down on the hem of my dress.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 12
Sunday morning Raceday, Australian Grand Prix
For the first time since receiving the news that my cancer was in remission, I wasn’t able to sleep. I should say I got very little sleep due to just pure excitement. Not even the party last night was enough to distract me. I know that is all part of the deal as a Formula One driver. I’m just happy as hell that I didn’t have to stay for more than a few hours. Dad made sure of that. He even threatened to put a couple of guys into the hospital for looking wrong at Beth.

I wanted to laugh as he put one moron in his place when he put the moves on me. I know that dad can be frightening when he gets mad, but I’ve never seen him get like this. I mean breakout the shotguns and rings with the guys. Sure, I’ve seen him pull the whole ‘overprotective dad’ bit with Beth’s dates, but never for me. It took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on. I was his little girl now, I was no longer his oldest son. Talk about a blow to the ego. As I sat in my room trying to get to sleep last night I stewed over the fact people will be treating me as dad’s little girl first. The more that I thought about it, people had been doing exactly that for the past few weeks. All that did was piss me off.

The real bitch was the other members of the teams, well male members, still treated me the same way as they did back home. It was the other men from the other teams that were giving me the eye. Not in the friendly way either. They have been sizing me up like a prime rib in the tiger’s enclosure at the zoo. I’ll be honest and say that it has made me more than a little uncomfortable. I think that is why dad has been so protective over me and Beth lately. I think that the only reason why Tony has been getting a pass with dad is because he is a member of the MRDI team. I know he’s giving Kelly a pass because she is a girl and I’m supposedly safe. If he only knew how much we get up to when we’re alone. On second thought, no he doesn’t need to have that knowledge.

I spent the last hour and half down in the hotel gym going through my usual morning workout. I know that I have started to push myself again, but after last night I need to get in the right headspace for the race. I’ve already taken my morning shower and had breakfast sent to my room. I still need to unwind before the race. If I don’t I won’t be in any condition for the race. I think I’ll spent some time with my music and let the bullshit just fallaway into the nothingness of the beat. I know that I have to leave for the track shortly, but a few minutes should help. There was something about the Qualifiers yesterday that has been bugging me. What that is I don’t know, but I know it is important.

As the music plays in my earbuds I let my mind drift back to those last few laps. I can see how the other drivers were attacking the track in my head. Even that idiot Caldera. There was something that kept drawing me back to the way he spun out and how the other drivers kept moving off to one side whenever I got on their tails. I know that a lot of them aren’t used to that style of driving. My alarm clock went off drawing my attention back to the here and now. Leaving me with more questions than answers as to how to win the race. I knew the answer lay in the Qualifiers. Not so much in where we placed, but how the other drivers drove the course.

I go over the schedule for today in my head. The first half of the day was something that I didn’t want to face. There was the morning warm up and meeting with sponsors. Followed by the race day parade. With the driver introductions at the track and final race rules briefing. If I don’t get a move on I’ll never make it to the track on time. We can’t afford a can’t get a helicopter into the circuit just to avoid the traffic jams caused by the fans. That means I either jog down to the track or drive. Neither of which is was the best of ideas.

Thanks to yesterday’s Qualifiers both Beth and I have gained more than a little publicity. I mean, how often is it that a pair of newbies place in the top ten during their first Qualifiers. Let alone take fifth and sixth places at the start of the race. We had pulled off what would be considered the impossible in most peoples’ eyes. Word had spread faster than greased lightning. We’ve already been getting requests for autographs and photographs from race fans. Mom and dad suggested that we leave extra early for the track this morning. Just to avoid the rush.

I take a few minutes and step out onto the room’s balcony for a few minutes. I look over at Albert Park and the track. I couldn’t get a good look at the track itself, but I could already see the fans gathering. With one last look I went back inside closing the door behind me. I grabbed my equipment bag and leathers heading for the door. Stepping into the hall I was greeted by Danny, Tony, Greg, and Kelly.

“Hi guys. I take it mom sent you to get me and Beth?” I asked looking at Danny.

“Got it in one, Bobbie. Your folks didn’t want you two walking around on your own.” There was a note of worry in Danny’s voice. One that I was quick to pick up on.

“Okay, guys. What the fuck is up? Are the rest of the Horsemen waiting downstairs?”

Danny sighed. “You know that fuck stick that spun out yesterday?” I nodded my head. “Well, last night he and a few of his crew were running off at the mouth. Talking about you and Beth not finishing the race. More than a few of the other teams made similar comments along those lines. Your dad figured it would be best if we escorted you down to the track to keep the flying monkeys in line.”

“So, Caldera is still blaming me for his lack of talent.” I growled as I clenched my fists. “If they think I crowed his ass yesterday he is in for a big surprise today. They want to play rough. Fine by me.”

“No shit, little sis.” Beth snarled as she walked up behind me. “Who do we put in the wall first?” I smiled at Beth as let her anger show. Normally, Beth was calm, cool, and unemotional when it came to her driving. “I say we put everyone who gets in the way either into the ditch or the wall.”

“Nah, we don’t do shit sis.” I gave her a toothy smile that was similar to that of a hungry Great White shark. “They want to play, I’ll play.”

I was already forming a plan in my head. One that would make any driver that tried me regret crossing my path. “What’s the one thing I have always been good at?”

At their blank looks I started to giggle. In a sing-song voice I gave them my answer. “There's trouble on the streets tonight. I can feel it in my bones, I had a premonition. That he should not go alone. I knew the gun was loaded but I didn't think he'd kill. Everything exploded, and the blood began to spill.”

Beth, Kelly and the guys busted out laughing as I sang the opening lines of Glenn Frey’s ‘Smuggler's Blues’. The meaning was clear as a bell and they knew it what I was up to. Especially when I switched over to the opening lines for Steve Earl’s Copperhead Road. “Well my name's John Lee Pettimore. Same as my daddy and his daddy before. You hardly ever saw Grandaddy down here. He only came to town about twice a year. He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line. Everybody knew that he made moonshine.”

“HOLLY SHIT!” Danny called out. “She is going full on moonshine runner here.”

“Yup. And those mooks won’t know what hit them until the race is long over with.” I grinned. “They only think that they know how to race. The funny thing is so do we. Only we know how to race in more than just one way.”

Beth snickered. “Why do I foresee a massive rat-race in our near future?”

That’s when it hit me. What had been bugging me since yesterday. The way other drivers were acting during the Qualifiers. The whole process reminded me of a rat-race back home on the backcountry roads. Even the track was laid in a similar manner to way as backcountry roads were naturally. There were always wide sweeping turns, short hairpin turns, snake or chicane turns, with straightaways for varying lengths. Not to mention the raises and falls of rolling hills with turns on the crests, sides, and bases. While Albert Park was damned near flat it wouldn’t matter. Most of South Carolina had everything I just thought about. Formula One racing was practically made for me and Beth.

“That is exactly what we’ll be doing Beth.” I told her with a mile-wide grin. At her blank look I knew that I had to explain my strategy. “Beth, think about the way the track is laid out. Now, place the cars in a starting line-up. What does that remind you of back home?”

Beth did as I asked and closed her eyes before smiling from ear-to-ear. “Saturday night in Columbia, down in Five-points. We got these bitch in the bag. Who’s playing bunny for the fox?”

“You’re the bunny, I’m the fox.” Kelly, and Beth joined me as I giggled, and the guys just chuckled. Our friends had seen me, and Beth pull this kind of shit before. Only the last time we did this, it was for pinks lips in Columbia. I turned towards the elevators in a better mood than I had started the day with. “Come on guys. Time to play with our favorite kind of dipshit.”

The ride down in the elevator didn’t take long. The trip through the lobby though was another story. We hadn’t gotten fifteen feet before Beth and I were swarmed by teenage girls and boys wanting our autographs. I couldn’t believe what was going on. It didn’t make any sense to me or Beth. We hadn’t even won a race yet, and already we were being treated like rock stars. I wanted to kiss the guys once they were able to push their way through the gathering. Kelly ran interference for us long enough to reach a taxi. Once inside the taxi, I told the driver to take us to the racers’ entrance over at the track. He pulled out but did ask to see our ids before taking us to where we asked.

Kelly and the guys showed up ten minutes after we arrived. I was so thankful for the race teams’ private entrance to the track. I looked at Kelly when she climbed out of the taxi and smiled. “Thanks for running interference Kelly.”

“No problem, Bobbie. I just can’t figure out what the hell was going on.” Kelly answered with a frown. “I mean yesterday we walked through the lobby and nobody gave you two a second look. Today it was like you’re Justine Timberlake.”

“WE posted in the top ten, Kelly.” Beth told her before going on to explain. “Those kids saw two girls that are barely a few years older than they are playing with their heroes on the track. We’re the new heroes to them. More so for Bobbie.”

“Wait! Just wait a minute. First, how did they even know about where you placed? Second how did they even know what you looked like? Your parents have been careful to not let your pictures out. Third, how would they even know where you are staying?” Kelly stood there counting off her points with her fingers. “Explain that to me.”

“One, everyone and their brother knows where we Qualified. It was a worldwide broadcast after all. All those kids saw what we did on the TV. Two, our faces were plastered right next to our car numbers and post position. Third, all it took was one enterprising maid, janitor, or bellhop to spread the word.” I explained for my girlfriend. Then kissed her. “Just be thankful that they don’t know we’re dating.”

“Okay, I’ll let that one go. FOR now.” Kelly smirked then turned and guided me inside. “We got a race to get ready for, you two still have morning warmup to go through yet. Not to mention the drivers meeting and autograph session.”

As much as I wanted to pound her, Kelly was right. With less excitement than I felt earlier I headed inside the track. We headed straight for the locker rooms to change and get ready for our day. After they changed the guys and Kelly went over to the garage while Beth and I headed over for the drivers’ race briefing. I sat with Beth as the officials went over the rules, flags, and what penalties would be applied for infractions of the rules. After that we had to deal with the driver introductions. I was a little overwhelmed by the crowds’ reaction to my name. I wasn’t expecting the roar that came out of the stands. It so loud that it was almost like a physical force hitting me. After introductions Beth, me, and the other drivers spent the next hour shaking hands and meeting with sponsors before the race parade. I swear I just want to go some place nice and quiet to relax. I finally got the chance an hour and half before the start of the race.

When the time came for the start I walked out with my music still playing in my ears. I finish getting dressed for the race standing next to the car. I thank Chief Hailee for making the modification to my radio, so I can jack my Ipod into the car’s communication suite. I know that it is not standard, but I really need my music to stay calm while I drive. I look around at the other drivers getting into their cars and smile at their little pre-race quirks. Given the importance of the start, it’s not surprising that drivers are often at their most focused on the grid. Some prepare for the beginning of a race by creating a mental image of the start that they want to make, and, as a result, teams will often try to protect their drivers from overly intrusive media attention on the grid in case it interferes with their concentration. I know that my team will keep the media away.

Thankfully the race start procedure is strictly timetabled from the time that the pit lane opens (30 minutes before the race start) to the time that media and other non-essential personnel must leave the grid (10 minutes before the start). In this period, each team’s engineers and mechanics will be working through specific procedures to prepare their cars.

I know that Chief Hailee and Chief Marks are going to hold off for as long as possible before starting the engines. You see a Formula 1 car's power unit is started as close to the start as possible, because once it’s fired up it’s vital that the car doesn’t sit still for too long. This is because the majority of an F1 power unit’s cooling comes from airflow whilst the car is in motion and, if left stationary for too long, the heat generated can cause damage to the rest of the car, especially at hot races.

All mechanics must be clear of the grid within 45 seconds of the one-minute signal being issued. Then, 15 seconds later, a green light is displayed on the starting gantry to indicate the start of a single formation, or ‘warm up’, lap. My actions on this lap are vital to my chances of making a good start. For starters I got to get enough heat into the brakes and, in particular, my tyres. I can do this through hard accelerations, better known as burnouts, and braking or by weaving back and forth across the track. From the outside this behavior may appear random, I’ll be following a strict plan agreed to by either mom or dad. They’re our race engineers to get everything to just the right temperature.

I also need to use the formation lap to select specific engine maps and clutch modes to make I can get the best getaway possible. For the driver in the pole position, controlling the pace of the formation lap is vital as he does not want to complete the lap so quickly as to be left sitting on the grid for a long period as other cars take their places behind him. This is because while his brakes and tires cool, his engine temperature will rise.

As we come to a halt on the grid, the course car and medical cars are also in position further back, the start sequence is initiated by the race director. I keep my eyes fixed on the starting light gantry, where a sequence of five red lights is illuminated. When the red lights go out after a random time delay over which the race controller has no control the race is underway. To ensure fair play, each car is monitored electronically and any driver jumping the start is penalized.

As the field accelerates away from the grid towards the first corner there is an incredible amount of jostling for position as drivers try to either consolidate or gain position, depending on how good their initial getaway was. I see the first four cars spread across the width of the track. I was sure that there was going to be contact. Especially as the cars are particularly heavy with fuel, have relatively cool brakes and tires. Not to mention that most of them are off the normal racing line where the track surface is likely to offer less grip.

I won’t say that it was luck that no one went in or crashed during the first lap, but more due to the skill of the other drivers. Beth and I barely made it through the first lap untouched. Not that it wasn’t hairy on more than one corner. I could already tell that the other drivers were out to rattle the two of us. I did the first three laps to the sound of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. As I came out of turn sixteen and onto the front straightaway I hear the opening notes to Steve Earl’s Copperhead Road. I started to laugh as I cross the start/finish line.

I knew that I had the next few laps as I slide through turns one and two. I know that the driver next to me must have freaked out because he drives off into the grass. I up shift and drive hard for turn three just before breaking hard and letting the rear end push me through the turn. I see Beth drop into my review mirror. She was doing exactly what she always did when we rat-raced back home. She was blocking for me while I got up close on the ass end of the lead drivers.

Lap seven came with a change in songs and a double yellow flag between turn ten and eleven on the back straightaway. I started slowing down even before dad came over the radio. “Back it down baby girl. Alveres, Comely, and Julian plowed in on turn fourteen. It’s a bad one Bobbie.”

“Copy that papa bear.” I knew that if dad was calling the wreck a bad one. I didn’t care really so long as the red flag didn’t come out. If that happens then we had some real problems on the track. The weather is perfect, the track is in great condition, and the cars are still close to top form. “Any idea to the cause?”

“Alveres cutdown a tire coming out of turn thirteen and started to slideways into Comely and Julian going into turn fourteen on the straightaway.” I could tell by the tone in dad’s voice that he wanted to use a more colorful description of the drivers involved in the wreck. I had a good feeling that Alveres did something stupid to cutdown that tire.

As we round turn thirteen I could see the wreck just up ahead. The lead cars were hitting their breaks hard. I quickly followed suit as I didn’t want to get penalized for passing on the yellows. I really didn’t want a drive-through penalty this early in the race. A drive-through penalty requires the driver to enter the pitlane, drive through it while obeying its speed limit, and exit without stopping. Drive-through penalties are normally imposed for minor offences, for example curb-hopping at chicanes, ignoring yellow flags, or cutting corners. While a drive-through is less costly to a driver's race times than a stop-go penalty it can still screw with how you finish in a tight race. Beth must have been thinking along the same lines as she pulled up close behind me as we approached the wreck site.

As we drive by them, I can tell that it is a bad one. None of the three will be finishing the race. Not with the amount of damage they have suffered. I do spot a few good signs. First, all the drivers are out of their cars and walking around. Second, there was no fires. That’s one of the biggest fears in any type of racing. Burning gasoline can reach temperatures close to 500 degrees. Not something that most humans want to be exposed to.

I’m just happy that the monocoques worked as advertised and everybody was walking away in one piece. The monocoque, French for ‘single shell’, or 'tub' is the heart of the modern Formula One car. It incorporates the driver's survival cell and cockpit, and also forms the principal component of the car's chassis. With the engine and front suspension mounted directly to it. Its roles as structural component and safety device both require it to be as strong as possible. Like the rest of the car, most of the monocoque is constructed from carbon fiber. Up to 60 layers of it in some places. With high-density woven laminate panels in other areas covering a strong, light honeycomb structure inside.

At the heart of the monocoque lies the survival cell and within that the cockpit. For safety reasons, no fuel, oil or water lines may pass through the cockpit and the driver must be able to get out within five seconds without having to remove anything except seatbelts and steering wheel. Which he must be able to refit within another five seconds. The width of the cockpit must be 50 centimeters at the steering wheel and 30 centimeters at the pedals. The temperature inside the cockpit averages 50 degrees Celsius.

To help with a driver’s escape, the dimensions of the cockpit opening have grown over the years. Currently it must be 850mm long, at least 350mm wide at the pedals and 450mm wide at the steering wheel, with the rear half wider still at 520mm. The rear 375mm of the cockpit’s side walls must rise upwards at an angle of at least 16 degrees. This is to reduce the risk of injury in the event of one car flying over the top of another. The edge of the cockpit must be enclosed in an energy-absorbing material with a thickness of at least 100mm.

The survival cell is surrounded by deformable crash-protection structures which absorb energy in an accident and features a roll-over hoop behind the driver’s head, made of metal or composite materials. The survival cell’s flanks are protected by a 6mm layer of carbon and Zylon, a material used to make bullet-proof vests, to prevent objects such as carbon fiber splinters entering the cockpit.

The driver’s seat is a single plastic cast, tailored to provide optimal support. Since 1999, rules have stipulated it may not be installed as a fixed part of the car. Instead it must be possible to remove the driver and seat as one after an accident, thus eradicating the risk of spinal damage. Compulsory since 1972, today F1 seat belts comprise a six-point harness, which can be released by the driver with a single hand movement.

All Formula One cars must be equipped with a fire extinguisher system. This automatically spreads foam around the chassis and engine area in the event of fire and can also be operated manually by either the driver or marshals. Also required in the cockpit is a master switch that deactivates the car’s electronics, fuel pumps and rear light.

An accident data recorder is also compulsory. Linked to a medical warning system, it registers important information such as speed and deceleration to tell medics how severe the impact was. In addition, there is a cockpit display with red, blue and yellow lights which informs the driver about any warning flags being waved around the circuit.

AS we round turn sixteen and head for the start finish I start thanking mom and dad for the experimental monocoque they put into mine and Beth’s cars. With about 50 square meters of carbon-fiber mats processed I have more than half the additional protection as the other drivers without the added weight. From the looks of things Alveres, Comely, and Julian are going to be fine but they’re going to need new cars for the next race. I’m just happy that all the safety features worked.

I may be competitive and will push the boundaries of the rules to win. But I’m not so much of a bitch as to wish for someone to get hurt in the process. I may race hard, and mean, but I race cleanly. Even when was rat-racing I never put the other driver in harms way on purpose. I keep waiting for the green flag to go back to racing but for some reason the marshals are keeping us under the double yellow. I mean the wrecked cars are all off the track.

“Dad what’s up with the hold on the double yellows?”

“It’s not good kiddo. The marshals are talking about red flagging the race because of fuel on the track. For now, it’s single file all the way around the track. Keep you cool and run your race kiddo. By the way you’re doing great. How in the hell did you and Beth come up with this strategy?”

“How do you think we won all those rat-races? This is what we do. I get them looking over their shoulders at me. While Beth slips pass them on the inside. Once she has their attention I drop in front them before they know what hit them.” I giggled as I spotted my new target. “Keep an eye on the thirty car once we start racing again.”

We completed four more laps under the double yellow flag while the safety workers cleaned up the track. I found out what was going on during two of those laps. It seems that one of the wrecked cars ruptured their fuel cell before sliding off the track. The fact that this even happened means that one of them got hit right behind the tub. The only way for that to have happened was for the area to have been hit by more than 80G’s. It was on the second pass that I got a good look at what happened. I saw the car as the safety crews were loading it onto the recovery truck. One of the cars had its entire rear end ripped off in the crash rupturing the fuel cell. For the first time I was happy for the multiple safety redundancies built into each car. Just for such events on the raceway. I don’t even want to think about the lives they have saved over the years. I know that they saved three today.

Beth and I did our best to keep our tyres clean and warm while waiting for the green flag during these caution laps. We still had a lot of racing to do yet. Forty-six more to be exact, or just short of 244km to go. I don’t care who you are, that is a lot of racing in anybody’s book. For those not in the know that is close to 151miles. This most likely one of the longest rat-races I have ever run. The whole race is just over 307km or 191 miles. I figure that I’ll need to replace my tyres at least two maybe three times before the end of the race.

When the green finally came everyone took off like a bat out of hell. For the next fifteen laps everything went green. Unfortunately, neither Beth or I was able to pass for the next position. No matter what I tried I just couldn’t make the next driver screw up. He was almost prefect in his attacks on the turns. His blocking techniques was text book perfect and totally legal. As much as I want the marshals to throw a blue flag on the guy he is just too good. He had just enough speed to stay ahead of us but still block for his team mate in third position.

Chief Hailee came over the radio as I entered turn one just after the speed trap. “We need to bring you in on this lap, Bobbie. Your time is falling off faster than expected. This is my fault kiddo. Those soft tyres aren’t holding up the way we expected them to. We’ll switch you out to the mediums when you come in.”

“Okay Chief Hailee, it’s your call.” I started my countdown as I exited turn two. With each turn and every straightaway I come closer to a new set of tyres. I don’t bother trying to save the ones that I am currently running. I push my car hard enough that the fourth-place driver finally gives up fourth place. He moves to the outside in turn eight to allow me to pass. That was his mistake as both Beth and me speed past him before he knows was happening. I let Beth pass me on turn ten just before we enter the straightaway into the turn eleven-twelve chicane. As I do I pull a slide job on the joker we just passed.

I keep up my blocking until we exit turn sixteen and head for the pits. I slide into my pit box, just like we had practiced back home. I feel the car bounce up into the air. Then land back on all four tyres within two seconds. The lollipop goes from red to green. I pull out as fast as I came to a stop. I don’t bother to check the time of the pitstop. I know that my guys and gals have been busting their collective asses to get their time down. Before we left and during our practices they were able to get all four tyres changed in 2.3 seconds. This time I know that they did it in under that time.

On the next lap Beth went in for her pit stop and fresh tyres. As she enters back onto the track I know that we are clear back in fifteenth and sixteenth places, for now. That won’t be for long as the other drivers will need to pit soon themselves for new tyres. Five laps later we were right back where we were before we pitted for tyres. Only this time we had the advantage. The first through third positions were running on cold tyres. And we took advantage of their short comings in a way they never saw coming. They raced us like we were the same type of professional drivers. The problem was we were street racers turned pro.

As we were exiting turn eight the opening notes of Bruce Springsteen’s Born to run play in my ears. I drop the hammer and push past Beth to pull right up on the ass end of third place. For the next three minutes and forty seconds I hound the man’s rear end. I worry at his back tyres at every turn. In the straightaways I would drift back and forth behind him keeping the man guessing at where I would go next. Mean while Beth played her roll perfectly as the ice princess. The cold calculating computer driven driver. She never once left my rear end. Right behind me the whole time. Just waiting for the signal to make the pass. I didn’t need to give the signal though as after three full laps on his tail the driver losses control in the hairpin, turn fifteen. He slides into the grass backwards on two blown tyres.

The yellow flag comes out again with 24 laps to go. I had been expecting to get the half black, half white flag for unsporting behavior. So, when it didn’t come I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t afford any penalties this early in my career. The most common penalties the marshals’ issue are a drive-through penalty, a five-second time penalty and a ten-second time penalty. In extreme cases marshals may choose to enforce tougher penalties. They can drop a driver any number of grid positions at the next Grand Prix; impose time penalties; reprimand a driver; exclude a driver from the results; or suspend a driver from the next race. Any driver receiving three reprimands during a season will automatically receive a ten-place grid penalty for the current or next event, but only if two or more of the reprimands were for driving infringements. The stewards may also impose penalty points on a driver’s Super License. If a driver accrues 12 penalty points in a 12-month period, they will have their Super License suspended for one race. Penalty points remain on a driver’s Super License for a period of 12 months after which they will be respectively removed on the 12-month anniversary of their imposition.

Of all the penalties that the marshals can drop on me the points are the ones I fear the most. Because unlike the other drivers those points can be levied against my regular driver’s license back home. Good old South Carolina Red State horseshit just waiting in the wings. Part of the requirements to get a Super License in South Carolina is to have an active driver’s license. Any penalty points will be treated as if I got a speeding ticket on the Interstate. In South Carolina your driver’s license gets suspended after 8 points. In the eyes of South Carolina, a Super License is the same as a commercial driver’s license.

Chief Hailee and Marks pull both me and Beth in for new tyres again one lap later. Only this time they have Beth come in first. Again, we’re off sequence with the other teams. They have pulled us in ahead of them. I know that we haven’t fallen off on our times. “Chief Hailee why are you pulling us in now?”

“Just do it Bobbie. Don’t worry about strategy just drive like you have been. Leave the strategy to me and Marks.” I sigh and do what he says. I make one more lap as Beth has her pit stop before me. As I pull into pit line I see why he told me not to worry about strategy. The drivers in first and second place are also pitting. That was all I needed to see to understand the reason for our pitting now. They were trying to get a jump on us with fresher tyres. I could see what Chief Hailee and Marks are up to now by bring Beth in first with the first-place driver. And by having me pit with second-place.

Once back on track with the race Beth is in second place while I’m still in fourth. I realize that I need to get around the now third place driver if I’m going to give her a hand going for first. My chance comes ten laps later in the DRS Zone. This is the first time I’ve used the Drag Reduction System. The DRS is an innovation that makes the driver’s task overtaking slightly easier. Within the designated DRS activation zones, a driver within one second of a rival car may activate his DRS. This alters the angle of the rear wing flap, reducing drag and thereby providing a temporary speed advantage. To ensure that overtaking is not too easy, the length and location of DRS zones are carefully controlled. Until now I have been using under braking, and over-steering to slide past in the corners.

This type of pass requires an enormous amount of skill from the overtaking driver. Not only is a driver likely to have had to move off line onto a more slippery part of the track, he must also judge how late he can leave his braking. Get it wrong and you overshoot the corner, spin off or worse make contact with the car your trying to overtake. This is the type of passing I’m used to as a rat-racer. I reach the DRS zone and hit the activation button.

I snap out and around the third-place driver before he even knows that I’m there. I’ve spent the last full lap lulling him into complacency. I pulled off the move perfectly. If anyone askes me about this pass at the end of the race I’m going to lie though my teeth. I wasn’t expecting to be able to pass this man so easy. Then I see it as we rounded turn fourteen. Black smoke starts pouring out of his exhaust. I don’t know what happened to his engine but the black with orange circle flag accompanied by that car’s number flies. That is all I need to see, as that is the one that warns a driver that he has a mechanical problem and must return to his pit. The race is now down to just me, Beth, and the joker in first place. It is more than twenty seconds back to the next car on the lead lap. We still have sixteen laps to go before the checkered flag and one more pit stop.

As I pull in behind Beth the sounds of Judas Priest ‘Turbo Lover’ fill my ears. Until now I had not realized how far into my race mix I had gone. With more than eighteen songs down I had ten more to go before the mix will start over at the beginning. That was over fifty songs but between the three Qualifiers, two warmups, and today’s race I’m surprised that my mix lasted this long. For the next eight laps Beth does her best to pass and take the lead. The problem is the lead driver was in first for a reason, he was just that good. With just eight laps left I watch as he and Beth head for pit row. I cross the start/finish for the third time and lead my fourth lap of the day. I know that once I come back around I’ll be right back in third place, unless I can pull a rabbit out of my ass.

With this thought in mind I put the peddle to the medal. I throw out all pretenses of racing like a Formula One driver. I know that I stand a good chance of being Half black, half white flagged or just flat out black flagged. I just got to go with my gut feelings and drive the way I know will get me ten to fifteen more seconds of an edge. Time that I will need in the pits. Even as I enter turn one I let my ass end slide as I turn hard on my wheel. I drift through turns one and two as if I had been doing it all day long. I keep the drifting to a bare minimum for the rest of the course, but I do drift my way through the hairpin turns. I kept waiting for the warning flags, but they never come. The only reason I can figure I haven’t been black flagged is because they think I’m real close to losing control due to tyre wear. That and I’m pushing my car to its limits.

I exit turn sixteen and head for the pits breaking hard. I get down to pit row speeds in time to avoid a penalty for speeding on speeding on pit row. As I pull into my pit box I feel my car bounce into the air the second I stop. I never take my eyes off the lollypop and my front jack-man. The milli-second Danny and Steve drop the car Danny jerks the front jack out of the way I speed away. I fight to keep my speed down as I drive the length of pit row. I pull out just in front Beth and the led car with ten seconds to get up to race speed. For the first time I really am winning the race. All thanks to a little bit of luck and a shit load of skill on my part. I break hard going into turn one to cut off the other driver.

From here out I’ve got to drive defensively. My rearview mirrors just became my best friends. Dad really starts to call out the turns and straightaways for me. for the next five laps I let my mind focus solely on the track and my music. I round turn sixteen and enter the front straightaway for the third to last time. By blind fortune and luck, I cross the start/finish line just as ‘Light ‘em up’ by Fall Out Boy starts to play. I fight to control my laughter as I break hard and snap hard on the wheel cutting the other driver off in the turn. I wipe snap my ass end around on turn two grab second gear and floor it for turn three. I don’t know what happened to the bonehead behind me, but I don’t get black flagged, not even a warning from the marshals. I look in my rearview mirror to see the nose of Beth’s car climbing up my ass. I can tell that she is driving her car just as hard. This is going to come down to a drag race somewhere on the track. A Drag race between the two of us for first place and whoever blinks first loses.

I can’t help myself. I got to run the rest of these race full out as a backcountry street-rat racing country girl. These pud pounders have been screwing with Beth and our teams for the last week. It was time to show them all what two Darlington county Southern girls can do. They think they’re better than us just because they drive Formula One. Well, today they’re going to see nothing but taillights from a pair of ‘ugly Americans’. Beth may not have started out wanting to be a Formula One driver like me, but this past week has pissed her off.

We enter turn four almost side-by-side. I got just enough of a lead on her to keep my first-place position. It takes some work, but I squeeze past her and get a one second lead on her as we go into turn five. I keep my led enough that I’m able to open it up enough to gain some time. I know that we got another lap to go but I’m not about to just give it to her. This is a race. There is only one winner the rest are all losers. She knows this as much as I do. Like the Intimidator once said. ‘Second place is just first loser.’ Today neither of us is racing for second place.

We blast our way through section 2 like our asses were on fire. Neither one of us lets up in the turns. Going for broke the whole way. I can hear dad yelling at me to reign it in but I’m having too much fun. I can tell by the way Beth is driving that she is in the same boat as me. If I could have thrown my head back and howled I would have. This is no longer a race against the other drivers. This is down just me and Beth in a winner takes all knock-down, drag-out, no holds-bared, rat-race. All with nothing more on the line than pride and bragging rights.

We attack section 3 by driving through the 11-12 chicane on the edge of sanity. Turn 13 pushed our skills. We hit the DRS zone at full speed. Beth in an attempt to pass tried to used her DRS here. I just had too much room to block her for that to work. I key my radio for her car. “Sorry sis but you’re going to have to beat me the old-fashioned way.”

“Is that so little sister? Then it is on, bitch. Let’s do this. We got one lap left to go.” I giggled at her response and push my car harder. I know for a fact that both Beth and I held back during Qualification and for most of the race. Now, that we were out front there was no need to keep a lid on our engines. We came out of turn sixteen onto the front straightaway and the start/finish. The white flag was flying. I let up and let Beth pull along side me. she knew what was up. We crossed the starting line for the last time and the race was on.

We rounded turn 1 side-by-side in a slide. Turn 2 was taken the same. We were getting more than a little sideways with our racing now. This was all backcountry rat-racing at its finest. The short jog to turn 3 give us enough time to down shift for turns 4 and 5. We powered out of 5 and through the 6-7 chicane. Turn 8 gave us enough time to up shift to get some speed up before breaking hard into turns 9 and 10. The 11-12 chicane was almost anticlimactic after that, but the straightaway into the hard-right hand turn 13 made up for it. The exit out of 13 followed by the short straightaway is where Beth made her move to pass again. Only this time she pulled off the DRS maneuver and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop her. Not with turn 14 right there and having to break hard myself to keep from spinning out. After that it was all her race. All I could do chase her down and hope she makes a mistake in less than a half mile.

Beth made the final two turns with picture perfect execution. She really earned her nickname of ice princess today. She stayed frosty the whole race right up to the last lap. She took advantage of every mistake the other drivers made. Not once did she lose her cool and let her emotions get the better of her driving. I’m proof of that. I got excited and gave too much room on the inside in the DRS zone on the final lap. She saw my mistake and drove right past me. It was prefect execution of the DRS to take the lead. With it the win for the race. We cross the finish line two seconds apart. I follow her around one more time to slow down and cool off our engines. I know that we still got the winners line bullshit to deal with yet, but I don’t care. I may not have won the race, but I did graduate finally. I kept my promise. I can honestly say that I’m a real Formula One driver now.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 13
Monday morning, Melbourne, Australia.

I was looking forward to the 11 day break between Melbourne and Bahrain. The last few days had been a real challenge. Until now I never really thought about the hectic schedule that Formula 1 drivers deal with on a monthly base. Last night’s festivities following the race really took it out of me. I mean I never thought that winning our first race ever would be such a big damned deal. I do know that the guys on the pit crew were ready to rumble in the garage area after the race. It seems that a few of the long time drivers were upset with me and Beth.

While we were over in the winner’s circle a few members of Caldera’s and that mutt, Alveres, crews got it into their heads that we cheated. The problem wasn’t that we cheated, we just out drove their sorry assed drivers. And they didn’t like that fact. If it hadn’t been for the Marshals I know for a fact that there would have been an all-out brawl in the garage. One that my crew would have won. They have already had two fights since we arrived in Melbourne. They won both, thanks to Tony’s training. I chuckled when I heard that the Marshals had to threaten both teams with penalties if they didn’t return to their assigned areas.

I don’t understand the other teams’ beef with us. We’re racers, just like them. Yet they seem to think that they’re better than us, just because we’re an all American team. We proved that we can hang with them during Qualifiers and pounded their collective asses during the race. Yet they still won’t show us the respect we’ve earned. The knock on my room door brought my thoughts to the here and now as Kelly opened the door.

I turned to see mom and dad walking right behind Beth. Dad chuckled at seeing me standing on the balcony. “Still trying to wrap your head around the attitude of the other teams, Bobbie?”

“Pretty much, dad. I just can’t figure out why they hold us in such contempt.”

“No shit. We go out there and run a clean race. We win the damned thing, and those pricks want to claim we cheated. While their OWN team mates go out of their way to block us at every turn. Use every type of dirty barely legal team tactic, going so far as to try blocking our pit box. If we hadn’t resorted to using tactics we learned while rat-racing they would’ve run us off the track. That fuck-stick Reynolds damned near took me out on turn twelve with that side job he pulled.” Beth was just as pissed off as I was.

Mom sighed. “I hate to say this, kids. But they will never respect you until you have won a championship. Remember most of these men think that American drivers can only drive in straight lines with an occasional left hand turn. It’s not until they lose their rides or think they can show the NASCAR Drivers how to really drive that they learn their lesson.”

“I don’t understand. What does that have to do with anything?” Kelly asked.

“Nine times out of ten they get out there and find that those good old boys play ruff. They have no problems with putting an asshole into the wall, Kelly. You should know that. After all you grew up in Darlington.” Dad answered her with a smile before he turned to me. “We need to have a talk.”

“Okay dad. I know that I screwed the pooch out there. How bad is the engine?”

“Believe it or not, that engine is still in good shape. So is the transmission. What I want to know is how you were able to hold that line through the drifts in those hairpin turns? You were sideways for more than half the damned lap but still kept gain speed.” Beth and I started to chuckle at dad. “Okay what have I missed?”

“Mr. McGuire, Bobbie and Beth have been pulling those kinds of stunts for the last two years on every backroad in Darlington County. They went out there today and raced the way they always have on the backroads. I think the only time they have ever lost a race is to each other.” Kelly answered him.

“Not quite Kelly. I’ve lost to Harry Barns, Bill Hatcher, and Steve Arbuckle.” Beth named off the three guys that had beaten her repeatedly. She then held up her other hand with two fingers. “There are only two drivers that have ever beaten Bobbie on a steady base. Lucas Stills, and Billy Hart.”

“Wait. Bobbie lost to Lucas and Billy?” Tony asked.

“Yup. Three times to Lucas and twice to Billy. If I could ever get those guys to give up running moonshine for their uncles I would offer them a chance at a NASCAR ride.” I told them all honestly. I looked over at mom and smirked at her sour look. “Yes mom. I know that I shouldn’t be rat-racing.”

“Roberta, it’s not your rat-racing that has me upset. It’s your carelessness that has me worried. We both know just how dangerous that type of racing is. You pull a hairpin flick or Compton slide at the wrong time on the wrong turn you wind up hurt or worse dead. These tracks are nowhere near as unforgiving as the backroads back home.” I could see where mom was coming from, but she had to see where I was coming from.

“Mom, I know that already. Did I take a few chances yesterday? Sure. Were they gambles? Big time. Would I do them again? I haven’t the foggiest clue. All I know is that I’ll race my way every time. They don’t like it then they can kiss my ass. I’m not breaking the rules nor am I pulling some unsportsman like conduct bullshit. Just because I know how to get a Formula One car to drift and will use those skills to win is not against the rules. Like the old saying goes if you ain’t cheating you ain’t trying. Only I’m not cheating. I read the rule book front to back.” I know it was a fine line but what the hell. I was right, and mom knew it.

“That is not the point Bobbie. I know that you can handle yourselves and the cars out on the track. It’s the other eighteen dumbasses that I’m worried about. Some of them are not going to take to your intimidator tactics too kindly. Or to you two using Hendricks team tactics. They might just place a bounty on your heads. If that happens all civility will go out the window.” I could hear the worry in mom’s voice over that happening.

“Let them come mother.” Beth snarled. Beth’s sudden change in attitude grabbed mom and dad’s attention. “It’s like Bobbie said. We ran a clean race and those two fuck sticks still tried to blame their poor performance on us. If they can’t show us the respect we’ve earned, then we’ll take it by force on whatever track we’re on.”

“No offence Mrs. McGuire, but someone has to teach those jackasses some manners. If not us, then who?” Kelly smirked.

Mom threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, the hell with it. I can’t win this fight. You girls are going to be the death of me yet.”

Dad just chuckled. Over the years of his marriage to Jewellianna McGuire, he had learned a few things. The first of which was to stand back as she handled Beth. With me now under her direct care as well, Robert knew that her work load doubled. The second thing he had learned was to just accept the way things were and to go with the flow.

“NOT ONE WORD ROBERT!” Mom whipped around and glared at dad. “YOUR daughters are out there, rat-racing with professional drivers. We have enough problems dealing with the other teams. We don’t need them antagonizing the other drivers. That is the LAST thing we need them doing.”

“Wrong mom.” I snapped. When she looked at me I smiled. “They expect us to race the way they would. We’re not European drivers. We’re American Drivers. We grew up cutting our teeth on NASCAR and street racing. They expect us to play by the rules, and we will. Only we’ll stretch, bend, and twist the rules to their limits. Like you have told me more than once. If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying. Only we’re not cheating. Just read the rule book.”

Mom gave me the ‘look’. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that says ‘you’re pushing the limits’. I waited for her to lambast me, then all of a sudden mom just sighed. She walked up to me and gave me a hug.

“You’re right Bobbie. I’m just worried that the other drivers will paint a target on your back. These men and women will not play nice once they figure out how to deal with you and your sister.” I heard the note of worry in mom’s voice. “Sooner or later they will come after you.”

I grinned when I heard this. “Let them come, mom.”

She pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Why are you looking forward to that? What do you have up your sleeve?”

“If they think what I did yesterday was playing dirty then they need to go back to school. Earnhardt, Gordon, Johnson, Andriy, Petty, showed NASCAR how to trade paint. I’ll show Formula One how to trade rubber and drift. These monkey nuts have never sat down and read the rules or studied them the way I have. Everything I did yesterday was will within the rules.” I just smirked. “It’s not my fault that they don’t know how to drift.”

“WAIT ONE DAMNED MINUTE!” Mom placed her hands on my shoulders. “Are you telling me that you intentionally drifted though those corners?”

“Yup!” I let the mirth that I felt fill my voice. “Nothing wrong or illegal with mixing driving styles. In fact, it is almost encouraged.”

“How?” Mom demanded.

“In nineteen-ninety-one, Aguri Suzuki for Lola Ford, was known for their drift style driving. In F1, Suzuki achieved one podium and scored a total of eight championship points. When he retired, he was the second most successful Japanese driver ever in F1 just behind Satoru Nakajima, but Takuma Sato and Kamui Kobayashi have since passed them both. All four of who are known for their drift racing influence style. It was their driving style that forced the FIA to change their rules to accept this style of racing.” I chuckled at the look on mom’s face. I had just handed her the key to our success.

“She got you Jewels. If there is one thing Bobbie is good at is bending the rules without breaking them. You should know this by now.” Dad quipped.

“No, Robert. That is where you’re wrong.” Mom rounded on dad. “This is one time that you should have warned me. After all, for the last eighteen years you have been the one to influence her more than me.” She huffed.

“Just what does that mean?” Dad asked quietly.

“Simple. You have had more to do with raising Bobbie than I have for the past eighteen years. After all I’ve only had ONE daughter until three months ago. NOW, I have two.” I had to fight back the laugh that threatened to come. The glare from mom made sure that I kept my mouth shut. There was no way that I was going to let my smartass bone run free just then. “As for you, YOUNG lady. Do not spout statistics to me.”

I just gulped and nodded my head. “Yes ma’am.”

I watched as mom got her anger under control before continuing with her ass chewing lecture. “Those drivers are going to do more than just come after you Bobbie. They’re going to do everything they can to put you into the wall. Sooner or later their numbers are going to win.”

“That is what we’re hoping for mom.” At her look of confusion, I had to give her a smiled. “Mom, we want them to come after me.”

“Why?” was all mom and dad asked.

“We know that you’ve never been happy with our rat-racing, but the skills we learned during those races are an advantage now.” I looked over at Beth as she started to laying out our racing strategy. “We came up with a strategy that works in situations where we’re out numbered. One of us draws the attention of the other drivers while the other goes for the win. It takes two drivers to pull off correctly. It’s called the fox and bunny.”

“The down side is that the one acting as the fox has a target painted on their ass the entire time of the race. The bunny is the one to go for the win because the other drivers forget about them.” I decided to explain the downside of the strategy. I knew that she needed to know.

“So, you went out there and made yourself a target on purpose. Are you sure you can handle the pressure that is going to come down on you?” I could hear the worry in mom’s voice.

“Mom please, trust me. I know exactly what I’ve done. I can handle those monkey nuts on any track they want to play on. As bad as they’ll get, none of them will come at me with anything near what I face on a Saturday night. Especially in downtown Columbia at Five-points. Where it is winner takes all and the only rule is there are no rules. These asshats only think they know what I can do. I haven’t even begun to breakout the nastiness.” I let the growl of righteous anger fill my voice. “If they won’t respect me. Then they will by god fear me. Because if they don’t they will find out the hard way that I don’t play games on any level. Especially behind the wheel.”

Mom and dad gave me dubious looks at hearing this, but Kelly, Tony, and Beth just chuckled. “Look, mom, dad, I can handle the target being on my back. I’ve been here before. Only the last time I was fighting cancer. They can’t hold a candle facing the Grim Reaper day after day.”

The sigh that escaped me was one of frustration. “The only time I feel truly alive is behind the wheel of a car, mom. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. The faster I go the more alive I feel anymore.”

“Wait a damned minute. Are you telling me that you drive the way you do just, so you can feel alive?” Mom demanded. When I didn’t answer her, she almost took my head off. “Does Sharron know about this?”

“Mom, Bobbie has been driving like that for the last two years. Before you go screaming your head off at me, yes I knew.” Beth said from across the room.

“And you didn’t feel that I needed to know this Elizabeth?” Mom snapped. “How long has your sister been pushing the edge like this? Do you even know?”

“DAMN IT MOM!” I screamed. Once she looked at me I took a deep breath. “I’m not on the edge. I’m nowhere near to pushing the edge.”

“Then what do you call it? Because you’re certainly not driving with your head in the game. Not if you’re out there, dancing with the Reaper at a buck-fifty.” Dad growled out behind me. “Come on, talk to us here Bobbie. What is really going on in that head of yours?”

I sighed. “Dad, I swear. I’m fine. If I think that I’m getting to far out of hand I’ll call Sharron. I always do.”

“Alright, we’ll table this conversation for now.” Dad said then turned to mom when she went to argue. “I said table it Jewellianna.”

For once mom didn’t argue with dad. Then again this has to be one of the few times I’ve heard dad use her full name. Normally he just calls her Jewels, Jewell, or Julie, but never, ever, Jewellianna. He only ever used her full name like that when he was pissed off. For some reason I got the very distinct impression that dad was not pissed at her though. The look he gave me let me know that we would be continuing this conversation in private later. And it would just be the two of us. Like the old days when it was one of our father and son talks. Ones where dad carried a ball bat to get his point across. I may be his daughter now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t cut my ass.

“Alright, Robert. I’ll let this go, but she talks with Sharron about this, not tomorrow, TODAY. Are we in agreement?” Mom wasn’t going to back down on this I could already tell.

“She will talk with Sharron about this when she makes her call later on tonight. Today the girls have to put on their game faces and deal with the press conference in a few hours. Not to mention they have to go to that victory party at three. Kelly and Tony need to be down at the pits to help get the gear broke down and the cars ready to ship. After that they have four days with the team to sight see. It’ll do them both some good to get out of their heads before the next race.” I couldn’t believe what dad was telling mom. Then again, I’m not surprised. When he put his foot down mom usually just gave him a kiss and said, ‘yes dear.’

“Fine. You made your point Robert. I’ll let it go for now.” She looked over at me. “Like your father said. We’ll be picking up this conversation later.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then what dad said about the press hit me. “What press conference are you talking about dad?”

“The one that Mr. Gunderson arranged for today. You get to talk with Motor World, SPEED, TNT, CBBS, BBC, and a few damned others. The only good thing is those bloodsuckers from ESPN, and Turner won’t be there.” Dad growled.

“Dad will you please tell us what your beef is with the Main stream sports networks? I mean all we ever heard is how they’re a bunch of bloodsuckers. Never the reason for that hard-on hate.” Beth asked him what I always want to know. I mean really hated the main stream press.

“Before you or your sister were born Bobbie there was a driver that those jackals destroyed for no other reason than they could.” Dad snapped. Seeing the look of disbelief, he sighed. “Sorry, but you didn’t deserve that. My reason for hating for the press is a personal one. One that goes back to just after your mother and I got married. The driver they ruined was a good friend of mine and your mother’s.”

“Why did they go after him dad? What did he do that got the jackals on his back? It’s not like he committed murder.” I was really confused now.

“The driver tested hot for pain killers. Pain killers that he had been proscribed by his doctor. The problem came when he showed up for his first race where he was able to drive. He went through the normal testing like all drivers. When he showed positive the marshals informed him that he could not race until he tested negative. The driver had no problem with this and even offered to take off the rest of the season. Well, a jackal for ESPN got ahold of the test results. Instead of verifying their facts the asshole just ran with the story saying the driver was a drug addict.” I could hear the anger in dad’s voice over the actions of that reporter.

“Let me guess the rest of the story. That reporter basically tried the driver in the court of popular opinion. The driver lost more than just his ride. How long was it before he gave up?” I knew the driver he was talking about. The man finally gave up and drove off the side of a bridge blind drunk. Not that I blame the guy. The way people were pulling away from him he would never have gotten another ride in any sport.

“Faster than either your mother or I could help. He lost everything thanks to that asshole. I would give anything for just five minutes alone with him.” Dad stood there cracking his knuckles while mom just buffed her nails. I could tell that if they ever had the chance that reporter would never live to see the sunrise if they got their hands on him. “Remember they will show you girls no mercy. Roberta, you are especially at danger.”

“Yeah, if they ever find out that I’m still technically a male they’ll be all over my ass.” Then I started to chuckle. “Just more fuel for the fire, I guess. Well let them come because they’ll find that I fight dirty. On more than just a race track or behind the wheel of a car.”

Dad gave me a strange look then chuckled. “Just below the surface. No matter how hard you’ll try, you’ll always be that hard charging ass kicking name taking little shit that used to run around the shop.”

“Let ‘em figure out my secret dad. I don’t care. Besides, sooner or later one of them monkey nuts will get wise and head for Darlington to do a hometown hero bit on me. I’m surprised they haven’t already got three or four slugs crawling around back sniffing around for whatever they can find about me.” I figured that I might as well point out the white elephant in the room. “I know that there is one panty sniffing jackboot in Darlington already.”

“How do you figure that?” Mom asked.

I held up my phone and showed her the text messages from the gearheads, and the rest of the guys back home. “The nice thing about having friends in low places. They tend to keep the riff-raff in line.”

My parents just chuckled. Kelly though handed over her phone with a mile wide smile. “Don’t forget about the sorority girls. They really do hate it when someone gets more attention than they do. I figure that anyone sent in to sniff around for info on Bobbie they’ll get an earful. Right after they get pounded on for making a pass at them by their boyfriends.”

“Wait! Won’t that cause Bobbie more problems?” Dad asked. Beth, Kelly, and Tony started to chuckle. “Okay, what did I miss?”

“Dad this is one time that the power of the green eyed monster is far more powerful than the power of fame. Never let it be said that the sororities ever let an outsider do their dirty work. In fact, they can get downright nasty, let alone meaner than a rattlesnake with a twist in its tail, when outsiders going pocking their noses in where they don’t belong.” Beth answered with a smirk.

“She ain’t joking boss.” Tony said with a chuckle. “But that isn’t the worry. The worry is when those gals get inventive.”

“Inventive? Just what does that mean?” Dad asked of Tony.

Mom came to my lead pit crew member’s rescue. “This is one time where you just need to go with the flow dear. Remember that angelic faces can hide mean streaks nastier than the big one at Tally.”

“Come on guys time to face down the rats in their nest.” I had spotted the time and knew that we had to get going. “I actually figured they’d be hunting us down before now.”

“How do you figure that?” Mom asked me as I grabbed my purse.

“Mom, we took two of the top ten spots in the Qualifiers. Then we go and win our first race in our rookie years. Something that has only been done fifteen other times in the history of the sport. You guys got to remember we came out of nowhere. We’re the unknowns. Of course, they’re going to want to know everything about us. Including the size of our panties.” My smartass bone was now in full effect. “I think I let them know that I’m wearing my magical power panties from Vickie’s today.”

I timed my remark just right as both Tony, and dad were taking a drink of coffee at the same time. Their spit-takes happened in unison. Which were followed by some rather healthy coughing fits. Mom, Kelly, and Beth joined me in an all-girl giggle fit.

“That was just not right, Bobbie. You trying to kill me and your sister’s boyfriend? No, wait, I know what you’re up to. You’re going for pure shock.” Dad gave me the gambit eye and chuckled.

I just nodded my head and headed out the door. The six of us took the elevator down. I wasn’t expecting the rush of fans still in the hotel. Beth and I must have signed two hundred autographs between the elevator and the conference room. I know that my hand felt like it was going to fall off by the time we reached the conference room. I was so thankful for Mr. Gunderson and his people showing as we approached the doors.

“Beth, Bobbie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you were on your way down I would have met, you at the elevators.” I could have sworn the man was besides himself. I could tell that the number of fans still clamoring for our autographs and pictures had thrown him off his game.

“Relax, Mr. Gunderson this is one time that no body could have foreseen the repercussions of yesterday’s win. I got a feeling that tonight’s little victory party is going to get a little out of hand. Especially if we don’t take precautions to ensure that it doesn’t.” Mom told the man.

“How do you figure that Mrs. McGuire? Your team is one of the most highly disciplined that I have ever had the pleasure of dealing with.” We could all tell that Gunderson was not used to dealing with a pack of red-necks.

“It’s not our team that you need to worry about Gunderson. It’s the other teams. More than a few of them are pissed that our girls took first and second place yesterday. Three teams have already tried to have our cars impounded for using illegal engine and transmission parts. The drivers for those same three teams have lobbied protests for unsportsmanlike driving by our girls. I figure those jackasses will try to crash the party tonight.” I couldn’t believe what dad was saying at first. Then I got to thinking about what he and mom were telling me in my room.

“AHHH! I see what you mean now. The young ladies being the new drivers on the grid haven’t ‘earned’ their win yet in the eyes of the other drivers.” Gunderson just sighed. “It is truly a sad thing. Such jealousy is unbecoming of professional drivers. Do the NASCAR drivers have the problem?”

“In truth I have to say no. For most NASCAR drivers it all comes down to win or go home. They get out there and drive for the love of the sport in most of their cases. There are a few of them that are out there to carry on family traditions. Traditions that go back decades. For them a rookie driver getting their first win is a big thing. To gain that win on the first race of the season is amazing. None of them hold it against the rookie for getting their first win on the first race of the year. Hell, they’re more like to come over and hand the kid a cold beer on national TV, shake hands, and then go get ready for next weekend. There’s not a whole lot of this you’re not a professional unless you work your way up through the ranks bullshit. For them, if you have a ride on their circuit then you earned it, period.” I was amazed at the way dad was laying out the attitude of NASCAR drivers.

“More than that Herr. Gunderson, NASCAR drivers compete on a level playing field. The cars are a lot like Formula One cars. They may have different manufacture seals on the front, but they are all the same underneath.” Mom was smiling as she explained NASCAR to Gunderson.

“I had no idea that the NASCAR drivers were such professionals. Maybe I should spend some time at our American plant over the summer and see a few of the races.” Gunderson said as he led us towards the front of the room. I know all about the Mercedes-Benz plant outside of Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I also know that the nearest track to that plant was two hours away and one of the fastest Superspeedways, Talladega. If he sees a Tally race he might not want to come back to Formula One and I need him.

“If I might make a suggestion sir.” At his nod I smile. “If you want to see a NASCAR race for the first time, then there is only one race to see. The Daytona Five-hundred. It is the first race of the year and the oldest. After that you need to see a race at Darlington, then Bristol, before you go see a race at Talladega. We have a saying about the races at Talladega. It’s not if but when. By that we mean the big one. When those wrecks happen they normally take half the field with them.”

“Good God! How many cars is that? Five to ten?” Gunderson was thinking along the lines of Formula Races with their twenty cars.

“Herr. Gunderson, there are forty to forty-three cars in every NASCAR race every weekend.” Mom told him and then she chuckled at his look of stunned disbelief. “Oh, and one other thing. Bobbie forgot to tell you that the average race speed at Talladega is one-hundred-ninety-five miles per hour.”

“That’s just short of three-hundred-fourteen kilometers per hour.” I told him before he had a chance to run the numbers in his head. “And Herr. Gunderson I’ve held that thin line when I earned my ride with your company.”

“You have driven at such a speed? Over one-hundred-and-fifty miles per hour.” Gunderson stared at me in wonder.

“Not only did she crack the buck-fifty she set records for both Formula One and NASCAR. Make no mistake, Herr. Gunderson, when our daughters race, they leave nothing behind, and lay it all out on the track. They want something, don’t get in their way. You do, you’ll end up with rubber going up your back. Because they won’t swerve, they’ll just run you over.” Dad smirked.

Gunderson just shook his head and headed for the podium to start the interview. I took the chair on his right side while Beth took the left side chair. I knew that there would be questions at the end of Gunderson’s little speech. Questions that I would have to answer. He opened the interview with a brief recap of yesterday’s race and our stunning win. I want to correct him when he said that we had done the impossible with our win. I knew the accusation was coming the moment the reporter stood up and shouted.

“What of the allegations that the McGuire sisters cheated? Or that there was no way that rookies like them should have been able to win in the first place?” I wanted to smack the asshole. “It’s not like the accusers have a valid point. I mean no rookie has ever won their first race.”

“Not true sir. The truth of the matter is that rookies have won their first race more now than was common in the earlier years of our sport. The difference is we are having fewer and fewer rookies each year.” I wanted to kiss Gunderson just then. He had come prepared for that question at least.

“What of the charges of cheating? That they were using illegal engine parts.” The asshole wasn’t going to give up unless he could prove that we cheated.

“I’ll answer that question Herr. Gunderson.” I said as I looked over at the reporter. I figured out what was up his ass and who had sent him in here to give us a ration of shit. “Sir, our engines are within legal limits. Our team tactics are one-hundred percent within regulations. At no time did we break the rules of conduct on or off the track. Unlike you’re butt buddy Caldera who went out of his way to use illegal blocking, try to force other drivers off the track, and just about every other nasty trick in the book.”

“HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SHOWING FAVORTISM?” The man screamed out.

“I never said you were showing favoritism. I just pointed out the fact that you’re a fan of a total, jackass, who can barely drive. To be honest with you I’m surprised that he still has a ride.” I gave the reporter a hard look. “Before you go digging into my hometown record I won’t.”

“And just what does that mean, little girl?” The reporter smirked. “Got something to hide back there in the wilds of South Carolina? Like maybe an unwanted pregnancy or illegitimate lover?”

The room went quiet as the grave as Tony and dad both started for the asshole. I held up my hand and stopped them both. “Sir, if I was you, I won’t even hint at printing something like. You see, Americans get very protective over their hometown heroes. And when they have already beaten something like cancer, like me at a young age, they get downright mean when it comes to those heroes. You go sticking your nose into my business, I won’t be held responsible for the actions of my fans.”

“How dangerous could a bunch of backwards, illiterate, morons be?” The reporter popped off. “I’m protected by the First Amendment in your nation.”

Beth, mom, dad, Kelly, and Tony, started to laugh. When the reporter looked over at them Mr. Gunderson also chuckled as I gave the answer. “Before you go routing around in someone’s backyard buddy you need to think twice. Because that Amendment you and your buddies in the press love to drag out every time someone fights back isn’t worth shit when you go pissing off the wrong person. Only in this case you’ll be pissing off a whole bunch of wrong persons. People, who know how to use firearms.”

The threat was clear as a bell. Stay out of my backyard or get hurt. I knew that I wasn’t the most popular girl back home, but I wasn’t flat out hated. After this past weekend my popularity was bound to jump through the roof. If these assholes think they can pressure me or my friends into give them scandal material they’re in for a massive surprise. Because there is one thing that is very true in the deep South. They protect their heroes. Until their heroes do something to piss off their hometown. All I’ve done is a little illegal street racing and deal with the side effects of experimental chemotherapy drugs. Nothing earthshattering there.

“Next question please?” Herr. Gunderson called out to the gathered reporters. “Yes, Hans. You have a question for one of the young ladies.”

“Thank you, yes I do have question. Who came up with your team tactics, ladies? I have to say. I have never seen such tactics like that before.” I smile at the man’s polite way of digging for confidential info.

“If you’re asking about where we learned to drive the pants off of our rivals on the track it’s simple. That is how we drive back home on the backcountry roads. If you obey the posted speeds, you’ll never get anywhere.” Beth answered for us. All while lying through her teeth.

“That doesn’t explain how you two were able to pull off those passing maneuvers the way that you did.” Another reporter pointed out.

“Yeah, if you think you can just drive from Darlington to Myrtle Beach without having to pass one car you need to see a shrink. And half of those cars belong to idiot tourists that are lost. So, you either learn how to pass on the curves at speed or spend all day staring at the south bound end of a north bound mule. It’s nothing that any teenager in South Carolina cannot do on a clear day.” Beth told them all. I wanted to bust out laughing at the way she was down playing our skills.

Over the next hour we answer their questions and kept the reporters at bay when it came to my past. When Gunderson finally called a halt to the conference it was just before one o’clock. We all headed over to the hotel restaurant for lunch. I was looking foreword to being back home for a few days before heading for Bahrain. I really need my McD’s fix.

When we headed for the victory party I wanted to laugh. Standing in front of the doors were the clowns from yesterday. The ones that wrecked their cars or lost to me out right. I knew what they wanted, and they weren’t going to get it. Not from me anyway.

“Whatever happened yesterday is done and over with. Leave it where it belongs gentlemen. On the track. You can’t do that then I suggest that you walk away now. Before things get messy.” I felt that I needed to warn them outright. I knew that Tony, and dad would hurt them in ways that they couldn’t recover from in time for the rest of the season.

Caldera got right up in my face. “You caused me a race with all of your cheating little girl. You may have conned the marshals, but we know that you cheated. Now you can go to them a tell the truth or you’ll pay for it on the track. The choice is yours.”

Mine and Beth’s plan was working better than I had hoped. These idiots were coming at me just like we had hoped. “Bring it on assholes.”

Caldera blinked twice and backed away. I could tell that he had figured to intimidate me. Only problem was I had faced my death along time ago. Him and his butt buddies were nothing to me. Tony stepped up besides me cracking his knuckles. “Can I put these assholes in the ground now, boss?”

“Let them go Tony. They’re not worth it. Besides, once we get back on the track they’ll find out that they are nothing but a bunch of wimpy assed losers. Losers that we’re going to pound for the rest of the season.” Beth had placed her hand on Tony’s shoulder and pulled him back. I watched as Caldera got the hint and led his buddies away from the door to the party.

With them out of the way I sighed. “Well sis, it looks like we got under their skin. Do you think that they’ll come out to play or will we need to smoke them out like the rats they are?”

“I say we forget being civil sis. Let’s just smoke their asses and be done with it the mess now.” There was a pissed off note in Beth’s voice. One that I’ve heard on more than one occasion. Sadly I agreed with her.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One race cars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 14
R and R or as dad called it crash and burn
Mom and dad gave us all the last five days off. We were able to see some of the Australian countryside. I have to admit that it is a very pretty country. Or is that continent. I not sure any more. I know that Australia is a name for both a country and a continent. Oh, the hell with it all. I’ll figure it out later. For now, I just wanted to get through the rest of the week in peace and quiet. Thanks to Mr. Gunderson the press have taken to leaving me and Beth alone for now.

Well, I should also give a shit tone of credited to the guys of my pit crew. It seems that one of the reporters got a little out of hand. They paid him a visit with knuckles sandwiches as a gift. Said reporter is now trying to find a dentist to replace his front teeth. The fool made the mistake of trying to get pictures of Beth’s car’s engine as it was being loaded onto the plane. If it hadn’t been for the airport security, my guys would have most likely put the asshole in the grave.

Talk about your press FUBAR. I know that my crew can be a bunch of rowdy South Carolina red necks, but the press do have a tendency to push the bounds of common decency. I know that the press won’t dare try to pull something like that with the other teams. I can only believe that because we’re such a new team they believe they can bullshit their way into areas were they normally won’t dare try. The problem is my Crew Chiefs are old hands at the race world, and MRDI has been around for long enough to know about security. The press just haven’t figure it out that we’re just not going to rollover for their bullshit yet.

One of the things that mom arranged for us to do on our days off was a flight into the Outback. We got see Ayers Rock. Which I found out was the right name. Our guide informed us all that the correct name was Uluru. I all know is that is one BIG damn slab of sandstone rock. Our guide told us that the rock changes color with the changes in atmospheric conditions. That is why there are times when Uluru looks red and other times purple. I really enjoyed the two days we spent there. On the third day we flew into Queensland, Australia. From there we spent the next day snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef. Talk about having a blast. The next day it was back to Melbourne. We flew out the next morning for the next stop on the circuit. With a short two day stop at home.

The Gulf Air Bahrain Grand Prix, at the Bahrain International Circuit in Sakhir, Bahrain. After that it’s onto the Chinese Grand Prix at the Shanghai International Circuit in Shanghai, China a week later. Two weeks later it is off to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix held on the Baku City Circuit, a street circuit in Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan. In one month, we’ll visit three different countries and three tacks.

The next break we’ll have like this will be between Azerbaijan and the Spanish Grand Prix. It used to be called the Formula 1 Gran Premio de España Pirelli. The Spanish Grand Prix is held at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya located in Montmeló, Spain.

Mom and dad have already scheduled for the teams to be home for at least one of those two weeks. Which for me and Beth will be a welcomed break by then. As it is neither of us is looking forward to Bahrain. We have been going over the track on our laptops during the flight to Sakhir, Bahrain. We’re not happy with the layout of the track. It was too much like a partially stretched out paperclip for our liking.

The first speed trap is on the pit straightaway for the Bahrain Grand Prix, so turn 1, also known as the ‘Michael Schumacher turn’ is a prime overtaking opportunity. The corner itself is incredibly tight; a typical F1 car must brake approximately 100 meters before the corner and down shift all the way to first gear. The width of the track further adds to the overtaking possibilities. Turns 2 and 3 are flat out and gaining a good exit can set up another overtaking opportunity into turn 4. The straightaway leading to turn 4 is very long, and the track at the corner itself is incredibly wide, at about thirty meters.

We haven’t even walked the track yet, and we can already tell that the first section of the track is going to be a real bitch on our tyres. Section two won’t be much better. It starts off with turns 5, 6 and 7. They make up a high-speed left-right-left "S" section that leads into turn 8, a hard right-hand hairpin. We figure that taking a wide line can avoid the bump on the apex which unsettles the car. Turns 9 and 10 are just a flat out bitch as they’re two blind left-handers where we’ll have to brake, downshift, and turn simultaneously. We’ll have to go from 205 km/h in 5th gear down to 63 km/h in 1st gear while trying to avoid locking up our inside front tyre. This is also where the first of two DRS zones sits. We come out of turn 10 into the back straightaway. This straightaway is also the second speed trap for this track. It leads down into turns 11, 12 and 13, a medium-speed complex of corners. While we can take turn 11 in 4th gear it’s a left hander that leads immediately into the flat-out bitch right hander of turn 12 that has me worried.

The exit of turn 12 starts section three and the ‘fun’ part of the track. Beth and me still cannot decide how to handle this section of the track. For starters we’ll have to down shift again, only this time to 3rd gear before the right-hander for turn 13. Turn 13 requires a good exit to gain any real speed down the following straightaway. Beth is of the opinion that it is worth braking quite early for turn 14 to gain speed down the main straightaway. Beth thinks we need to brake about 100 meters before the apex. I’m not so sure. I keep thinking that we can push the breaking closer towards the apex. Turn 14 is also the second DRS zone. Either way it is easy to keep it tidy through the slow right hander. I figure that we can also put the power down early, gaining speed all the way through turn 15 and onto the main straightaway.

The problem we’ve been having is there is no footage from a driver’s point of view or from the track during a race. Without that we can’t get a feel for the track under race conditions. Sure, there’s the virtual lap of the track but it doesn’t show how a car actually reacts to the track. Each section is different from the other two. I really need to see actual race footage for the Bahrain race if I’m going to come up with any type of strategy. I know Beth feels the same way, as she’s been bitching about not finding any race video footage.

I know that it sounds petty of us but without that footage we’re at a distinct disadvantage strategy wise. Something we really need to come up with if we’re to have any real chance at a good showing in Bahrain. We started off the year fantastically. Now we need to keep that momentum going. The team as a whole is in great shape for the manufactures race, points wise. As for our positions in the drivers’ standings Beth is ahead of me in first place with twenty-five points, with me in second place with only eighteen points. The other drivers have been making comments about putting the rookies in their places already.

That, and there is no way for us to keep up our blistering pace on the tracks. That sooner or later we’ll crash. One particular ass wipe even went so far as to make the comment that we’ll lose our sponsors before the end of the third race.

Sadly a few of the press vultures have been listening to the loud mouths and other talking heads. That is not our only problem. It seems that a few of those reporters didn’t take my warning as being real. According to Joey and a few of the gearheads there are a few vultures rooting around Darlington. From what I was told they’re looking for dirt on either me or Beth. The funny part according to Joey, Tommy Hart and his buddies from over at ‘Slow Jake’s Garage where you can’t rush speed’ caught one of them trying to break into their garage. Talk about your stupid stunts. The only garage that has more security than ours is Slow Jake’s.

Trust me when I say the only people who are more protective of their cars’ secrets than professional drivers are street racers. Those boys and girls get down right nasty when it comes to their cars. I should know, I used to hang around with more than a few of them. Hell, I still do when I get the chance. I warned those reporters not to go snooping around Darlington, but they just won’t listen to me. The dumbass who broke into Jake’s almost got sent to the morgue. As it is he is spending the next month in the hospital wing of J. Ruben Long Correctional.

I know that I shouldn’t be happy about someone getting hurt but there are just certain lines you don’t cross. I’m just glad that the paparazzi left us alone during our break. Even now as we’re heading home for a few days is going to be a nice break before heading to Bahrain. I have a promise to keep. In nine hours, and fourteen minutes I’ll finally be able to fulfill that promise.

I’ll be so happy to just stand up and stretch my legs on solid ground. I never thought that I would become sick of flying in such a short time. We may be in First class but sitting for hours on end is boring. Even with going over the track specs for our next both Beth and I were fast losing our minds. The pit crews at least had something to keep them busy. Both Chef Hailee and Marks have setup a classroom introduction into automotive mechanics and designs for them. I know that the stewardesses weren’t to happy with them at first, but a tip in the form of autographs and sign team photos smoothed over a bunch of ruffled feathers.

This time I got to give it to those two old wrench monkeys. They decently knew their opponents. I’ve never seen such smooth talking rogues in action. One minute those guys and gals were all set to raise hell with my Crew Chefs the next they had the stewardesses eating out of their hands. I must admit I just had to surrender to the advantage that age gives someone.

As I was saying I envy my pit crews. All me and Beth have to keep out minds busy is the track specs and how to attack it. They’re at least learning something new. It’s not like we can go over the track specs none stop. As crazy as it sounds the more we studied the track virtually the more we realized that we needed to actually drive the track. We just couldn’t get a real feel for the turns and straightaways. It was like we were watching a cartoon or video game of the race. Neither of which is good for a driver.

As Jacky Steward and Paul Minard learned the hard way. Steward felt that he could learn everything he needed to know about a track from an 8 millimeter film, while thirty years later Minard felt that all he needed was a laptop to figure out a track. Both men were proven wrong. The only lucky thing was that they both walked away unharmed after their wrecks and no one else was hurt.

“This is your captain, please return your seats to the upright position, return your tables to their storage positions, and turn off all electronics.” I haven’t been paying attention to the time it seems. We’re already coming into Charleston, South Carolina.

I still can’t believe that it has already been 27 hours sense we left Melbourne. Then again mom, dad, and Coach Hall had us all get some sleep during the 18 hour flight from Melbourne to LAX. I don’t know about the others, but I got about 7 hours of sleep. The 4 hour lay-over and 5 hour flight into Charleston gave me a chance at getting another 4 hours of sleep. Not bad for 27 hours of traveling around the world. I just hope that when we head out in 4 days for Bahrain that I won’t be totally wiped out.

I know that the smart thing would be for us to head directly for Bahrain, but the teams need this stop over. First to see and spend time with their families. Second, to get a change of clothes for the next 2 weeks. Lastly, time to let their minds unwind before they take off for 6 weeks of non-stop travel. Fans think that all that traveling around the world is cool. Which it is, but they forget the toll that it takes on a person.

I mean this is just our first race and I can already see that the trip has taken a toll on the teams. Sure, they got to see some of the country besides the track. Still, they were there to work just like I was. For those who think that racing isn’t hard work I only got one thing to say. Get your ass out here on the track in 90 degree heat wearing 3 layers of clothing, a full face helmet, while pulling 3 to 4 gees at over 150 mph. Or, wear the same 3 layers of fire proof clothing while waiting in that same 90 degree heat for a driver to pull in and perform a 2 second pit stop.

My ears started to pop as the 747 slowly descended. I know that we would be on the ground soon. And in four hours the rest of the team would at home. Not for me, I got a stop to make here in Charleston. One that means a shit load more than hanging out with my old friends back in Darlington. I made a promise to someone. I can finally keep that promise today.

I had kept copies of all the local newspapers from Melbourne showing me and Beth on the front page. We were standing in the winners’ circle with our fists raised in triumph. I still get a laugh out of the headlines. They basically all went something like ‘Americans take first and second.’ or ‘American Rookies blow the competition out of the race.’ I know that Lisa is going to get a real laugh out of those headlines.

I just hope that she is doing better this time around with her chemo. I remember the last time all too well. I thought she was going to give up towards the end. I do know that she lost close to twenty pounds before she finished her treatments. It’s bad enough that she tried to kill herself. One of the things that Sharron fought so hard to get me to understand was that you can’t give up. No matter how fucked up your life gets.

When we got down to luggage pickup Kelly joined me. “You heading over to MUSC now or later?”

“I figured that I would go now. I know that Lisa could really use something to pick up her sprites.” I wasn’t really looking at her but the luggage carousel. There was more in my main suitcase than just clothes. It held something extremely important. Namely, five team pictures and twenty of my new posters. Most of those posters will be going to the kids on the cancer ward. But four of them and four team pictures are spoken for already. Doc Sharron, Nurse Suzie, Lisa, and Lee are first in line for the team pictures and posters. I know that sounds crazy, but I have to do this for them.

Besides, Mr. Corely will get his team picture tomorrow when I swing by the school for a visit. Until then I got a bunch of kids to make happy today. I know that Nurse Suzie had the race on ESPN on the Dayroom TV last Sunday or Saturday. If she didn’t have it on in the rooms as well. I swear Nurse Suzie has to be the biggest Formula One fan that I know. I remembered the day she came onto the ward wearing her Mercedes hoodie and sweat pants. She really made me smile that day. One of the worst days during my second round of chemo treatments. I know that she’ll get a kick out of seeing me on her floor.

Then again, she might not even remember me or recognize me. The last time Suzie saw me I was going by the name of Robbie McGuire and still trying to pass myself as a boy. I sure as shit wasn’t walking around her ward as Roberta ‘Bobbie’ McGuire, Formula One rookie driver and second place finisher for the Australian Grand Prix. I just know that she is going to flip out. I just hope that I have enough posters for kids on her ward.

“Don’t worry, Bobbie. I’ve got thirty posters in my suitcase if you need them.” I looked over at Kelly in surprise. She just giggled then held up a set of keys. “Your mom told me that you would most likely be heading for UMSC before going home. I called ahead and asked my mom to reserve a car for us.”

I leaned over and hugged her tight. I whispered into her ear. “Thanks baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Nothing to make up, Bobbie. I figure that every time we land in Charleston, we’ll be making a trip to UMSC before heading for Darlington.” Kelly returned my hug then kissed me on the cheek. I went to say something, but Kelly just chuckled. “Screw the norms. If they don’t like me kissing my girlfriend, I’ll just tell them you’re really a guy.”

I chuckled at that. “Like they would believe you. Not with the way I look anymore.”

“I’ll just pull your pants and panties down as I tell them.” Kelly leaned in close whispering into my ear. “I know for a fact the evidence is overwhelming.”

It took everything I had to keep from laughing. “You’re bad, you know that. In the worst way.”

Before Kelly could saying anything more our luggage arrived. I quickly grabbed my suitcase then hers. They weren’t hard to miss. I mean mine was a dark purple while hers was a neon blue. Her mother and mine had gotten together to get us the luggage. Personally, I would have gone with the classic black, but mom pointed out that it would be easier to spot our luggage this way.

As we headed for the exit, I was glad that I had listened to mom. We had our luggage already and were on our way out the door. There were people still looking through the luggage on the carousel. Most of which was the classic black bag. As we exited the airport, I was slightly surprised to see the families of my pit crews. Then I thought about how they had become members of an international racing team. My pit crew were now local heroes.

I just chuckled as their parents and younger siblings swarmed them. I knew that they would be retelling the story of Beth’s victory and my second place finish. I also knew that I would be expected to tell my grandparents the story at least once. The same as Beth would be expected to do for them and Joey. I hate that he couldn’t go with us to Australia but he still has another month of school to go yet. I looked down at the paperwork that came with the rental car to figure out where it was parked.

“Come on, Kelly. We got enough time to make it to the hospital and still get home before sunset.” I started walking towards the Green Monster car rental parking garage with a smile.

“We need to wait for Beth and Tony, babe.” I looked over at Kelly and she smiled. “I thought I told you. Beth and Tony want to go with us to the hospital to visit the kids.”

“That explains how mom was able to get us a sperate car. She put it in the company name so either of us could drive.” I chuckled. I also knew that Beth and Tony were most likely waiting for us at the car already. “Kelly, I got twenty bucks that says Beth is waiting for us at the car.”

I just pulled my suitcase and Kelly quickly moved to fallow. It didn’t take us long to find the car. I was right about Kelly and Tony waiting for us. We may have the keys, but they got their bags first and were out the door before us. I held up the keys and Beth stuck out her tongue. Tony just chuckled.

“We’re not going to have a Days of Thunder moment, are we?” Kelly asked with a smirk. I looked over at her for a second. I had to think about the movie the scene she was talking about. Needless to say, the rest of us started to laugh.

I couldn’t help myself and leaned on the roof of the car. In my best North Carolina accent, I dropped my voice an octave then said. “Well this is the way I see it. You agree that I ain’t going to let you drive me to dinner and you ain’t going to let me drive you to dinner in this car, there is only one way to settle this.”

I got the response that I was hoping for as Beth, Kelly, and Tony started laughing all the harder. I tossed the keys to Beth after unlocking the trunk, then the car’s doors. Beth snatched the keys out of the air and slid behind the wheel. Tony got in on the front passenger side while Kelly slipped in behind Beth. I got in behind Tony and snuggled up next to Kelly.

I did this for two reasons. First, I wanted to spend time holding Kelly. For the past twenty-nine hours we’ve been in the eyes of the public and hadn’t been able to even hold hands. This whole public fucking image thing was starting to get on my nerves. The second reason is Beth had more experience driving in downtown Charleston. Now some people say that the worse place to drive is New York City. Me, I can only say that until you’ve driven in the mad house that is downtown Charleston don’t tell me how bad your city is for driving. There is a third reason that I don’t want to admit to, but it concerns my temper. If I drove right now, I know that I’ll get pulled over for road-rage.

For some reason for the pass few days I’ve been on edge. The last twenty-nine hours have just upped the stress level for some reason. The more that I looked out the windows for Charleston the more that I want to get out of the city. I know the reason behind my edginess I just don’t want to admit it. The closer we get to MUSC the more nervous I become.

Kelly must have sensed my growing unease and pulled me into a tight hug. “Don’t worry Bobbie. I’m here for you.”

“I didn’t realize just how tuff this was going to be.” Beth looked up into the rearview mirror at me. Tony turned to look me. “The memories are still a little too fresh for me.”

“How long has it been?” Tony asked.

“Three years, five months, two weeks, and three days.” I rattled off the amount of time that had passed sense I was last in this hospital. The last time that I walked through those doors I was wondering IF I was even going to leave. That was the start of the experimental drug treatments, and my slow change into the woman that I am today. I know that it sounds stupid but this hospital both scares the shit out of me and gives me hope for those kids on the children’s cancer ward.

I know that I owe my life to this hospital, but I just can’t get that irrational fear out of my head. The fear that I’m going to die if I ever walk back though those doors. It must have been written all over my face. Because at the next red light Beth turned to look me in the eye.

“You don’t have to do this Bobbie. I can go up for the both of us. You and Kelly can stay in the car.”

I took a deep breath before answering her. “Wrong Beth. I got to do this. If I don’t then I’ll never be able to look myself in the mirror again. I beat that bastard once. I just got to find a way to get pass the fact that I’m not going to die in there.”

Tony turned as far around in his seat as he could to face me. “This coming from the gal that has set the unofficial track record for Darlington. Who just took second place in the Australian Grand Prix. That has so many rat-race wins under her belt that she could fill her family’s company parking lot with won cars it isn’t even funny. The gal that faces down death at over a buck-fifty with a smile on her face and heavy metal blasting in her ears.”

It took everything I had to keep from punching Tony in the mouth just then. If it hadn’t been for Kelly holding my hands I would have. It took a few minutes before what Tony was saying sank in but when it did, I had to do a double take. He was right. I had done all those things and done them on my terms. I faced life the way I raced. Head on and take no prisoners.

“Thanks Tony. I needed that reminder.” I knew that I was blushing just then. Not that I really cared.

“Forget about it, Bobbie.” Tony just shrugged it off. “Just remember that you have always done things your own way. If anyone ever tries to tell you how you should live your life remember what I just told you. I have to do the same thing every time I climb into the ring. I got to remind myself that more than earned my place in that ring. You and Beth both earned your place out there on the track. No matter what the talking heads say.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Tony. Now, can you tell me how to get over being afraid of a building?” I snarked.

“Well, I would say you challenge it to a race, only you have an unfair advantage.” The smirk Tony gave me had me wanting to bust out laughing. “You’re a professional driver now.”

That was it I lost it. Tony brought up the one thing that I couldn’t fight. It was true, I was a professional racecar driver.

For the next twenty-five minutes we joked around for the rest of the ride to the hospital. Beth pulled into the MUSC parking garage and we all started to look for a parking space. We found one on the fourth floor of the garage. Talk about getting lucky. I can hear you out there. What is so lucky about parking on the fourth floor of an eight floor parking garage. Well, when you can expect to park on the eight-floor because floors one through seven are full. Then yes finding a parking space on the fourth floor is lucky. I don’t know how many times mom and dad had to use the rooftop parking when I was undergoing chemo.

Once we parked Beth, Kelly, and I drug out our suitcases. After getting the posters and two team pictures out we headed for the elevator. It took us another five minutes to get across the street and into the main lobby for the hospital. I almost lost my temper in the lobby when the Security Guard stopped. I forgot that the hospital employed the suited apes of First Armor Security. I really hate those guys because they treat everyone as a threat.

It took us having to get their Supervisor down on the floor to sort things out. Once the Supervisor found out who we are and what we were there to do, he signed us in without further complaint. When we stepped off the elevator on the Children’s Ward I almost turned around. The memories came rushing back full force the second I smelled the disinfectant. Kelly grabbed my hand to steady me. I knew that I had to get a hold of myself.

I took a few deep breaths with my eyes closed. “Thank you, Kelly. I’m good now. Let’s go make some kids happy.”

With that I headed down the hallway. I walked straight up to the nurse’s station and knocked on the desktop. I smiled as Nurse Suzie looked up at me then over at Beth. Her mouth fell open and her eyes bugged out. I reached over, then pushed up on her jaw with a smirk and a wink. “Hi, Nurse Suzie! We’re the McGuire sisters. We were wondering if there are any racing fans around?”

I said this load enough to grab the attention of ever kid on that floor. It was like pouring oil on a campfire. I have to give it to Nurse Suzie. She’s gotten another batch of kids hooked on Formula 1 racing. I figured that when she found out that there was an all American team this year and one that was from South Carolina she would have the race on in every room. Just so the kids could root for some home grown heroes. I was proven right with the first words out her mouth.

“You’re really here! You’re them! Oh My God!” I think that she was more excited than the kids were at us being there. I knew that her present was going to be one of her most cherished positions. It was one of the reasons why she was getting a Team photo. The other was for every time she held me as I cried myself to sleep at night on this very ward. I could also tell that she either didn’t remember me or was just too excited to connect the dots.

“Yup. We’re them. The fabulous McGuire racing sisters.” Beth popped off. “We’re here to shear our victory with some real fighters. How many kids are on the floor?”

Nurse Suzie turned serious as she answered with a sigh. “Currently there are twenty-nine patients on the ward girls. I know that they’ll all love to meet you.”

I just smiled and turned to Beth. “Why don’t you go first Beth. I have something that I need to take care of with Nurse Suzie before going into see any of the kids.”

“Sure. You take care of your business Bobbie.” She turned and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Come on big boy. Let’s go brighten up some days. I know these kids could use something like this.”

Once we were alone, I looked back to Nurse Suzie. “I don’t know if you remember me or not Nurse Suzie?”

“I remember you Bobbie.” She said with a small smile. “You and Lisa were the first ones that I ever got hooked on Formula One. I never expected you to go out actually become a driver though.”

With that I pulled out the team picture and poster that I had already sign for her. “I’ll be honest Nurse Suzie. I never expected to make it as a professional driver. I just wanted to keep my promise to Lisa.” I swallowed hard before I asked her the next question. “She isn’t here is she?”

Suzie just nodded head yes. Then she stood up and waved for me to follow. Once we were in the nurse’s breakroom she turned me. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone not that is not family this Bobbie. But it doesn’t look good for Lisa.”

“How bad is it, Nurse Suzie?” I asked quietly.

“You know that they gave her a total hysterectomy?” I nodded my head yes. “They didn’t get all of the cancer. It had already metastasized. She’s not responding to the chemo and radiation. I’m sorry but she doesn’t have much longer Bobbie.”

“How long?” I crocked out.

“The doctors have given her eight to nine months at the most.” Suzie gave me a look that said she knew better. “Look, Bobbie, I’ve worked this floor for the past ten years. I have to be honest with you. I give Lisa another six months before her parents have to start thinking about hospice.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped away the tears in my eyes. “Do her parents know this?”

“They were told two weeks ago on Friday. Bobbie I have to tell you this. Seeing your race on Sunday gave a lot of kids on this floor have hope. Lisa kind of blew your cover with the other kids with all of her yelling and cheering you on. All she told them was that she was your best friend and that you had survived leukemia. She never said anything about how you used to be a boy.”

I could tell that Nurse Suzie was trying to ease my fears over being outed by my friend. I just chuckled at her. “I don’t care Nurse Suzie. If she blew my cover to these kids.”

“Why?” Suzie and Kelly asked at the same time for different reasons. Me, I just chuckled at their reactions.

“It’s simple. They all need to see that they can overcome anything if they don’t give up.” I finished wiping away my tears. “Now which room is Lisa in? I got a few things for her holding up the bag in my hand. I had picked up a few souvenirs for Lisa.

Suzie just hugged me and smiled. “I think she’ll be just be happy at seeing you walk through her door, Bobbie. She’s in four-oh-four. We’ve just got done picking up the dinner trays.”

“Thanks, Nurse Suzie.” I turned to leave the breakroom but stopped. “If you ever need anything and I can help just call me. I’ll do what I can. I still owe you.”

With that I felt the room and headed down the hall towards my friend. I still had a promise to keep. I stopped at each room on the way to signed posters and take pictures with the other patients in rooms 400-403 before going straight to Lisa’s room. I needed the time to get my shit together before facing my dying friend.

When I came to her room, I found her mother and father were in with her visiting. I knocked on the door jam and forced a smile before calling out. “Hey, stranger!”

Lisa looked over at me and squealed. “BOBBIE!” I just chuckled and walked over to her and hugged her. “Oh My God! You’re really here. I thought that you would be on your way to Bahrain by now. You didn’t lose your ride already did you? Where’s Beth?”

“Whoa! There Lisa. Slow down and take a breath already.” I chuckled as I stepped back. Lisa had rattled off everything in one breath she was so excited. “Yes, I’m really here. As for me being in Bahrain, I’ll be there on Wednesday. I’ve got plenty of time before the next race to get ready. No. I didn’t lose my ride. Mom and dad felt the team should spend a little time with their families before heading off for a month of glob trotting.”

I gave a quirky look. “You know there is an easier way to get me to visit you than this?”

Lisa just flipped me off. Then gave me a smile. “How else was I going to get the attention of a world famous racer?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe, say, an email, or phone call?” I said then stuck out my tongue. My answer and actions had the desired effect on my friend. They got her to laugh. I looked over at her mother and father. I could tell that they didn’t recognize me. “Hi Mister and Misses Hill. It’s been a long time.”

“um… yes it has dear.” Mrs. Hill stammered out. Then she blushed. “Please forgive me young lady, but I’ve forgotten your name.”

I just smiled. “I’m not surprised that you don’t remember me Mrs. Hill.” I dropped my voice to just above a whisper. “I used to go by Robert McGuire ma’am.”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Hill’s jaws dropped to the floor. I held up my hand to forestall any questions. I wave at my body. “This is due to the side effects of my last round of chemo treatments. They were still in the experimental stage. I’m still dealing with some of the side effects. The easiest way for me to live is for me to just live as a woman. I can’t go the HRT route because of the dangers that involves.”

Mr. Hill just shook his head. “Damn. That is just fucked up.” I looked up and saw me grinning. “Pardon my French.”

“No worries Mr. Hill. I’ve heard worse in the pits and around the garage. I’ve used use on the tracks. Both during Qualifying and a race. Just ask my sister when she comes in.” As if summoned by my words Beth walked into Lisa’s room and stopped cold.

“Ah, shit! I thought you were on the other side of the ward, you brat.” Beth snapped as she punched me in the arm. “You always get to have all the fun.”

“Hi, Beth. That was one heck of a pass for the win.” Lisa said.

“Wait a minute here, Lisa.” Mrs. Hill said then looked closely at both Beth and me. “Oh My! You REALLY do know the McGuire sisters. Fred these are the girls that won the Australian Grand Prix!”

Then she looked over at me and got a strange look on her face. In knew that she was still trying to grasp the idea that her daughter knew a pair of Formula 1 drivers. To help her out I handed Lisa the team picture and my poster. Lisa’s face light up like the night sky on the fourth of July during a fireworks display.

As Lisa was staring at the signed poster and photo I started setting out the souvenirs that I got her in Australia. The first thing I placed on her hospital tray was a kangaroo plushie, flowed by a rubber crocodile, and lastly a koala teddy bear. When she looked at the three animals on her tray Lisa started to tear up. “You remembered.” Was all she whispered.

“I always keep my promises, Lisa.” I gave her one more hug. “You should know that better than anyone else.”

“Yah, you would drive straight through Hell wearing nothing but tissue paper panties and a smile to keep your promise to someone.” She wiped away a few tears then smiled at me. “I just never expected you to be the one keep their end of the promise first.”

“I had help, dummy. All I have to do is go around a race track as fast as I can. The rest of the credit goes to the pit crews.” I looked over at Beth. “Ain’t that right sis?”

“In more ways than one Lisa. Trust me, Bobbie couldn’t do half what she does on the track with the pit crews.” Beth chuckled as I stuck my tongue out at her. Lisa, and her parents just sat there watching in silence. I looked over at them and smiled.

Mrs. Hill gave Beth a questioning look before asking. “Do you two go at each other like this on the track?”

“They’re worse on the track ma’am.” Kelly said. Only to get a glare from both Beth and me. “Well, it’s true. You two fight like a pair of cats in heat when you’re racing. Unless someone else decides to get in between the two of you. Then all bets are off.”

Lisa just had to laugh at that one. “You just said a mouth full. Hi, I’m Lisa by the way. I take it that you’re Bobbie’s girlfriend Kelly Ringwald.” Lisa held out her hand to Kelly.

Kelly smiled and took Lisa’s hand. “And you have to be the other woman, Lisa Hill.” Kelly joked. “Bobbie never said that you were so good looking. Why’d you dump the dummy? Not that I’m bitching.”

I just stood there with my mouth open. “I think I’ve just been given a back handed compliment, I think.” Not that it matter as Lisa just started laughing and nodding her head.

“I know you were. Now behave yourself and go see the other kids Bobbies.” Lisa said with a smile as she held onto Kelly’s hand. “I’m going to spend the next few hours filling Kelly here in on all your nasty little secrets.”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 15
Race day, Sakhir, Bahrain
I couldn’t believe the bullshit. Everything went down perfectly during first Qualifying run. Then everything went to shit for both me and Beth on the second run. Thankfully we were still able to qualify for the race. Beth missed two gear shift changes during her second run. Because of this she was only able to qualify for fifteenth place. I did better in qualifying, but I over-torqued the transmission. Because of this Chief Hailee and Chief Marks had to replace the transmission in my car.

I tried to apologize to the two Crew Chiefs, but they just blew it off. Chief Hailee said it was just the luck of the draw. My problem with this was where it placed me in the starting grid. Tail-end Charlie and having to work my way up through the pack. It didn’t matter where I had qualified. Because I had to change the transmission of my car I had to start from the back. That was the penalty for making changes to the cars.

I looked out the pit at the course and shuddered. With the change of the transmission I didn’t know how the car would handle. Even with everything else still being the same, chassis-wise, the new transmission could threw off the power balance. Something I won’t know until we got out on the track for the warmup. Which wouldn’t be for another hour. More than a few of the other drivers have been having a field day with our bad luck.

The biggest talking asshats are those chuckle heads from team Toyota, Caldera and Alveres. They keep it up and they’re going to find out the hard way that neither Beth or I play fair. If their crews don’t leave ours alone, they may end up paying in blood. You would have figured, after Melbourne, they would have learned to leave the girls on our team alone. Kelly almost broke the right front tyre gunner’s hand on Friday. The fuck-nut pinched her ass. Tony, Danny, and the rest of the Four Horsemen stopped me from taking a lug wrench to the man’s head.

“Bobbie, do us all a favor and go get out of your head.” Dad said from behind me. When I didn’t move dad placed his arm over my shoulders. “Look honey, I know that you believe it was your fault that the transmission went on you. Take it from me, it isn’t. I spent the night breaking down the old transmission. I found what went wrong. When you shifted between fourth to second gear for that tight, downhill, off-camber Turn 10 left-hander the synchronizing rings for those two gears snapped.”

I looked over at dad with eyes as big as dinner plates. “Wait a minute dad. Those rings are made of bronze sinter friction layers and carbon coated. They just don’t snap.”

“You’re right they don’t. The rings in that transmission weren’t what we ordered. Both Hailee and Marks are beyond pissed off. I won’t even tell you what your mother was saying over the phone when I left our room this morning.” The grin on dad’s face let me know that mom was in a royal pissing fit. “Let’s just say that our supplier is going to need a new ass by morning.”

“Damn. I take it mom is still going?” I giggled.

“Bobbie, I have only ever seen your mother this pissed off one other time.” I watched as dad got a funny faraway look in his eyes. “This happened before you kids were born, and we were still working the circuit. Another team was screwing with the cars of the other teams. Well, you mom caught the guy in the act of fucking with her team’s car. Let to you, that poor bastard spent the next year and a half relearning to walk.”

“What the hell did she do to him? Hit him with a torque wrench?”

“Nope, but you’re close. She used one of the team’s cheater bars to break his hips.” I felt my eyes bug out of my head at hearing this. I couldn’t believe what my mom had done. I always knew that mom had a temper but nothing like what dad was talking about. Dad saw the look in my eyes. “You doubt me?”

“Dad, I love you but that is one whopper no one is going to believe. I can see mom shooting someone in the ass for breaking into the shop. I can see her threatening to castrate some red neck jackass like Billy Haskins. But actually, taking a cheater bar to someone she doesn’t know I just don’t see it happening. You, sure, no problem, but not mom. Sorry dad not falling for it.”

“Kiddo, you are many things, but stupid is not one of them. When I tell you that your mother would gladly beat the shit out of someone with a cheater bar, she would.” There was something in dad’s voice that made me believe him. “Right now, though we have a different problem. The warm up is going to be your only chance to get a feel for the car with this transmission.”

“I know that dad. I just can’t get my head wrapped around how poorly we did in qualifying the other day.” I know that I was whining about where we placed.

“Bobbie, it was not your fault nor was is Beth’s fault. It was racing pure and simple. Luck of the draw, dealt a bad hand, shitty roll of the dice, and all that other bullshit. Just do your best out there each time kiddo. That’s all the advice I can give you when it comes to driving those cars.” There was a note in dad’s voice that made me look him in the eyes. “I can give you a shit load better advice in life Bobbie. But not when it comes to driving those cars over there. You and your sister do shit behind the wheel of a car that is fucking amazing.”

“What are you talking about dad? It’s not like Beth and I do anything special. It’s just that we’ve been around cars our whole lives. Then there is the fact that you and mom design cars for drivers not corporations. Your cars give any driver their best chance at winning.” I knew what I was talking about.

“No, kiddo. That is where you’re wrong.” At my blank look dad sighed. “Your mother and I can only give you girls the best car we can. You take them out there and pull, drag, scrap, dig, every ounce of potential out of those cars you can. Not even that dumbass Tommy could do what you girls can.”

He sighed and looked around. “Before this deal came along, Bobbie, your mom and I had been talking about setting you up in a Stockcar. The only reason we didn’t is because we knew just how good you were on road style courses.” At my look of confusion dad just chuckled. “Bobbie, we knew about every backroad rat-race that you and Beth took part in. Did you really think that I would never catch those parts orders?”

“Well, yeah.” I blushed. Knowing that I thought I had been busted long before I ever realized.

“You do know that I had to sign for almost ALL of those street mod parts for your Judge. If I hadn’t your mother did.” Dad chuckled. “I swear that car of yours has to be one of the most barely legal street cars in America.”

“Um… yeah I know. I’m just surprised that you and mom didn’t come down on me for what I was doing.” I told him honestly.

“Bobbie, the day that you or your brother and sister get something past one of us, is the day that Hell freezes over.” Dad chuckled. He gave me a look with a sly smile. “Feeling better about your chances out there now?”

I looked him in the eyes. “Yah, I do.”

“Look when you get out there take your time. Get a feel for the track. Don’t push the new transmission during the warmup.” Dad sat there giving me advice on how to handle the car for the warmup and the first ten laps of the race. “Just let the car come to you. Your sister will be doing the same with her car.”

“Okay dad. I got it. Slow and steady will be the key to this race.” I looked back out at the track. “I just hope that it will be enough to come in somewhere better than last place.”

“Screw the fucking points Bobbie.” Dad almost snarled. “Look I said the same thing to Beth. This is you girls’ first year on the circuit. We don’t expect you to win the damned championship. Would it be nice? Yes. Would it make a difference in how we see you girls? No. In our eyes you’re both winners already.”

“I know that dad.” I never took my eyes off the track. “I just want to prove to those fucking assholes that I’m not some onetime fluke of luck. That I can out drive any of their asses.”

“Sure, kid. Just don’t let them get to you. Put their bullshit out of your mind. You can’t let their head games get to you.” Dad sighed. “You do, and they win before the race starts.”

I thought about what dad was telling me. Then it hit me, he was right. Those jackasses Caldera and Alveres were getting into my head with their games. They had done a damned good job too. Before I could really comment the five minute warning sounded for drivers to take to their cars. It was almost time for the warmup. Dad walked me back over to my car.

Dad helped me getting into the car. With care I took my seat. I put in my ear plugs and connected my I-pod to the radio. I pulled up my race mix and hit play. Over the next few minutes I got ready for the race. I let the music take me away and it isn’t long before I slip into the right mindset for the race.

When they finally called for the start of engines, I was champing at the bit. I wanted that monster turning over just behind me. I NEEDED to feel that barely controlled speed demon from hell. It didn’t matter that it was encased in cold hard metal. It was there for one reason only. To lend its power to my will alone.

Nothing else would matter for the next four hours. At just before 16:10-16:30 we roll out for the Formula 1 Pirelli Hot Laps. After running the hot laps, we pull back into the garage area. After the hot laps we have to deal with that stupid Paddock Club Truck Tour between 16:30 - 17:00 to deal with. Formula 1 Drivers' Track Parade starts at 16:40 and goes until 17:10. With the Starting Grid Presentation at 16:55 until 17:25 I won’t have much of a break. As it is, we got the Parachute Display between 17:10 and 17:25, with the Gulf Air Fly-bye at 17:40 until 17:50. When the National Anthem finally plays at 17:56 I can barely hold in my excitement. In fourteen minutes, we’ll be out there racing for the checkered flag.

I have to admit that I’m not a fan of this race already. The glare off the lights around the track make it a real bitch to find the best line. During the lineup and hot laps, I found that the preferred racing line was not where Beth or I thought. It flowed between the outside and inside of the track. Deepening on the turn it could be in the center, inside, or on the outside. Each turn was different from the last. We already knew about that tight, downhill, off-camber Turn 10 left-hander. It wouldn’t matter in the long run though. We either finish the race or walk home.

Beth pulled me off to the side just after the Starting Grid Presentation. She wanted to know how we were going to crack this nut. She wasn’t happy with the split between us. Like I was any fucking happier about it myself. I was all the way at the ass end of the lineup with seven, shit for brains, Neanderthals between us.

“You just hold your line until I come to you, Beth. It won’t take me long, not with who is in between us. Once we’re back together we’ll tag the field. We got fifty-seven laps to get the job done. More than enough time. Just play it by the book. No games, until we get together. If they try you, go ahead and drop back. It won’t matter in the long run. This is our type of racing. Those fuck nuts just haven’t figured it out yet.” I gave her a smirk. “Now, get over to your car. It’s almost time for the Anthem.”

“Okay, Bobbie. I’ll play it your way. Are you sure you can get up to me?” Before I could answer Beth placed her hand onto my shoulder. “You know that they’ll be gunning for you as you come up through the ranks. One mistake and you’re out of the race.”

I gave her one of my trademarked predatory smiles. “GOD! I fucking hope so. Because then I don’t have to worry about hunting them down. If they’re coming after me that means they’re not playing fair. If they’re not playing fair that means I don’t have to play fair. That means the gloves are off and I get to have fun.”

“Just don’t have too much FUN. We have a lot of season to go yet.” Beth returned my smile with a grin of her own. Then she turned serious. “You’ve been on edge since we left the hospital. What’s gotten into you Bobbie? I know that is not Lisa.”

“Remember that seven year old little boy on the ward? The one that was undergoing his fourth second round of chemo?” It took Beth a few seconds, but she nodded her head. “Well, he’s not doing too good. The chemo is screwing with his vision.”

“Ah shit. Don’t tell me that one of the last things he’s seen clearly was our win in Melbourne?” I just nodded my head to Beth’s question. I didn’t want to go into too much detail just then.

“Look sis, this is on me. That little boy just gave one more reason to push the edge out there. You don’t have to do anything but hold your line and wait. Just like Melbourne you let me deal with the jackasses.” I knew that I would be pushing things out there on the track tonight. “You just keep your nose clean. Even if they flag my ass for unsportsmanship like conduct.”

“Damn, girl. You’re really pissed off at them.”

“Nowhere near to that sis. I am so far beyond being pissed at the other drivers, especially Caldera and Alveres, that I need to come from the ass end of the field.” I gave Beth a look that I hoped she understood. “That bullshit those two have been spouting off about you and me is not something the kids on the ward should hear. That boy thought that we were only out there as a publicity stunt or some horseshit.”

“You want to prove that we belong on the track the hard-way.” Beth sighed. “You know that this might not go the way you want, right?”

“Yah, I know it’s a gamble, but I have to try.” I sighed then hugged Beth. “I got to show the world we’re not some publicity stunt for Mercedes-Benz. That we’re Professional Formula One drivers. If I can’t do that why are we even out there?”

“Bobbie, we did that already. Just because those load mouths have been running off with the bullshit. Doesn’t mean we have to give credit to their bullshit.” Beth pulled me in tighter. “Don’t play their game Bobbie. Just run your race. I’ll be waiting.”

With that Beth headed for her car. Once again, I got ready to roll out on the track. As I drop into my seat Chief Hailee reaches in and helps strap me down. Once secured Chief Hailee gives me the thumbs up and hits the play button on my I-pod. I heard the music pure across my ear buds and smile. The signal to start engines comes again and I feel the demon come alive once more behind me. I watch as the cars ahead of me in the field pull out one by one.

When it comes time for me, I slowly let out the clutch. As we round the track for the final warmup lap before the green flag drops, I begin to feel antsy. I know that I got fifty-seven laps, three-hundred-and-eight kilometers, and a little over ninety minutes to get into a points-scoring position. This will be the hardest race that I have ever run. To hell with every rat-race I’ve run. This time it is different. This time I’m out to prove something. Not to myself but the world.

As we round turn 15 I can see the grid already lining up. In less than a minute the race is on. I just have to wait a little longer. I know that Hunt pushed the lineup back as far as he could legally get away with. Now it is all up to the Marshals and the Flag man. I pull to a stop, in the twenty second position just as the opening notes to Megadeath’s Dystopia fill my ears. The flag drops and all hell breaks lose on the track as we race for turn One.

Even before we reach turn 1, I can tell that getting past my first four competitors is going to be easy. They’re slip sliding around the track as if they’re on worn tyres. I don’t know what those idiots were up to during the warmup lap, but it sure as hell wasn’t taking care of their tyres, or breaks. We reach turn 1 and the first chance for a pass. I don’t waste time by down shifting all the way to first gear. I drop to second gear and take the inside line hard. I slip past my first two cars.

I realize that I need to keep things tight on the inside line if I’m going to be able to keep up this pace. It won’t matter if Beth falls off a little bit, I should be able to catch up to her in the next five laps. I just need a little luck.

By turn 13 of lap four I had put two more of my competitors behind me and was closing on the last two. I knew that their tyres were already falling off not to mention their performance from the warmup and first few laps. It won’t take long to clear the last two somewhere between turns 5 through 7. The chicane is not the normal spot for overtaking someone, but for those two it will be perfect. They’re sliding all over the track and can barely control their cars already. The glare off the track lights isn’t helping matters either. If I’m having problems seeing my racing line, I know they have to be as well. I would give anything for a sunshade lens about now. Not that it would help. The glare is a bitch.

Turn 5 comes into view just as dumbass number 1 loses control and slides into dumbass number 2. They both go into the gravel before twisting their front ends all to hell. I barely get on the breaks in time to keep from joining them. If I had been just two seconds faster I would have been tied up in their wreck. I just barely clear the scene than the yellow comes out.

I pull in close to Beth as we near turn 10. This is both good and bad. Good in that we’re now back together and can work our way through the field as a team. Bad in that Beth hadn’t been able to move up through the field and was still in fifteenth place. We’re deep in the pack and in seriously deep shit. The good thing is we have fifty-three laps to get to the front. The bad thing. We got nothing but haters between us and the front.

I key the team radio. “You ready to play bongo-bongo, sis?”

Beth comes back to me fast. “Not going to happen, Bobbie. They’re onto us already. I’ve been trying to go to the inside and they’re blocking me hard. Bongo’s are out. Got anything else we can try?”

“Rumrunner on the green?” I asked.

“Bobbie that’ll only work if you can get the other drivers to go to the inside every time.” Dad said quickly. I thought about what dad said as we rounded the track under the yellow.

“If I can get in front of Beth, I can get them to go to the inside every time. After all, most of them are still pissed off at me for Melbourne.” I answered back with a smile.

That was the one thing that I loved about our cars’ colors. Mercedes-Benz want our cars to be distinct from each other. Beth’s car’s colors was yellow with purple highlights, where mine were purple with yellow highlights. While both cars had our teams, they were different enough that you could tell them apart by sight. Every driver on the circuit knew whose car was whose just by looking at them. Mine was the one that almost every driver wanted to put into the gravel or a wall.

They all felt that Beth wasn’t a threat or ‘knew her place’. Me, I was the one that needed to be taught a lesson on ‘the way things were done in the big leagues.’ I heard dad chuckle and Beth giggle at my comment about Melbourne and the other drivers.

“Bobbie, baby girl, they’re more than just pissed off at you. Over half of them want to put you in your place.” Dad was chuckling hard now. “Okay when the green flag drops, we’ll go with your plan Bobbie. Only we’re going to make a few changes.”

“What do you want to change dad?” Beth asked. “Remember that for Rumrunner to work we need to pass them on the OUTSIDE.”

“And YOU will Beth. Bobbie will pass them on the INSIDE. You girls are going to run a variant on Rumrunner. Bait and switch. Do you understand, girls?”

It took me a few seconds to figure out what dad was getting at, but Beth picked up on it right away. “We both go around them at the same time. I go to the outside because I’m set up for a loser run, while Bobbie goes to the inside because she setup to a tight run. Is that what you want dad?”

“Exactly Beth. Only when Bobbie moves to the inside you just get going to the outside. When they realize that they can’t block you both they’ll let off the gas. Just remember attack only on the following turns, 1,2,4,9,10,13, and 14. Leave the straightaways alone unless one of the other drivers gets stupid. Then it’s up to your judgement. Remember some of these jokers are holding a grudge. And Bobbie, you have a great big target on your ass.”

“No need to remind me, Daddy.” I snarked before releasing the button to my radio. We were rounding turn 14 and the yellow lights had turned off. That meant the track would go beck to green on this pass or the next. We started lining up two-by-two as we exited turn 15. I was expecting to back to racing, but the pace car didn’t drop out of the way. Instead it led us around the track one more time before getting out of the way.

The second we went back to racing both Beth and I had to hit our breaks hard. The front half of the pack was stacking up. I could tell right away what was going on. The leaders were trying to tie up the rest of the pack by blocking turns 1 and 2. I knew then and there that it would take at least two to three laps before Beth and I could put our plan in to motion. We needed the pack to spread out some for it to work. With the field all packed up tight like this there was no room for the type of maneuvers we wanted to make. Someone either spotted the threat we now represented, or they were listening on our radios.

Most likely someone spotted the threat of me and Beth teaming up. We had already shown how we can work as an exceptional team. A team that once released from the gate there was no stopping. We had more tricks in our bag than most of them had combined. Only none of them know where we learned our tricks. When you’re a backcountry gal with a nasty rep for taking no prisoners, you got to have a fifty-five gallon barrel of dirty tricks.

I didn’t bother to warn Beth about what was going on. She could tell and see just as well as I could. We settled in and just drove laps for the next five. When the field had finally stretched back out, I signaled Beth to go for it. We closed on the next driver in fourteenth like a pair of sharks. The poor bastard never knew what happened until it was too late. We spilt and passed him on each side in turn 2. It didn’t take us long before we closed on the next two drivers faster than either of us expected.

Dad warned us that our cars would get faster as the track cooled off during our pre-race briefing. I just wasn’t expecting them to get this fast or tight for that matter. I could feel the car getting tighter with each lap, but this was getting crazy. Something had to be wrong. I keyed my radio.

“Beth are you getting tight as hell?”

“I thought it was just me. I’m having to fight to keep my line again. This doesn’t make any sense.” Beth reply kicked my panic button hard.

“Relax girls. This is nothing that we haven’t prepared for. Beth, I want you to come in on this lap for new tyres. Bobbie, your turn will be on the next lap.”

I never got the chance to answer dad as the driver in front of me spun out and ended up sideways to me in turn 11. I had nowhere to go and neither did Beth. I was on my breaks and down shifting for all I was worth. I could tell that Beth was doing the same. Sadly, it didn’t matter what we tried to do. We both slammed into the right-hand side of the other driver’s car.

I knew that our race was over as I went airborne over the top of the other car. I had no idea of where Beth was, as I was looking at the front end of my nosing into the track pavement. I felt the ass end tearing free as the car cartwheeled into the catch wall. I felt my car land on the left-hand side at an angle upside down.

I could hear the other cars coming to a stop all around me. I have no idea of where Beth was or if she was even still in one piece. My radio crackled, and I heard dad’s voice. “Bobbie, talk to me baby girl. Come on baby girl. Talk to me here, Bobbie.”

I hit the radio button and groaned. “Damn it, dad. Don’t yell. My head is pounding, and you’re not helping matters.”

“Well, don’t fucking move. You’re upside down and against the outer retaining wall kiddo. Let the rescue crews do their job.”

“Yeah, sure thing dad. How’s Beth? I know that she hit that McLaren car just as hard as I did.”

“She’s fine kiddo. She’s already up and out of her car walking around. Oh shit! I think I need to have a few words with her when she comes out of the Medical Station.” I wondered what Beth just did to get a talking to after a crash. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. “Damn! Bobbie, does your sister normally punch someone trying to get her into an ambulance?”

I sighed and then giggled. “Hey, if all she did was punch someone, we’re good. If she starts smacking people with her helmet is when you need to worry, dad. By the way where is her helmet?”

“Laying about ten feet from where her car is sitting. Damn! That sister of yours has a temper. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was looking at your mother out there.”

“Dad, trust me. Beth has a temper that rivals mom’s temper.” I took a breath. “Any word on those rescue monkey’s dad?”

“They’re rolling as we speak kiddo. They should be getting to you shortly. As it is the race has been red flagged.”

“How bad is it dad?” I really wanted to know.

“Nine cars involved in total. Five of them are scrap. Two of which are our cars. Between your car and Beth’s car we might be able to get enough parts to build one complete car.” I could hear the relief in dad’s voice at only having to replace the cars.

“Damn. What happened to Beth’s car?”

“The front end is totally destroyed. But it’s the back end that is going to be the problem. The powerplant ate itself in one glorious blast. We can reuse yours by the way. It’s laying just over twenty-feet away from your car’s rear end. Now tell what happened out there? Why didn’t you girls avoid that jackass?”

I had been think about how that wreck went down. “Dad if I didn’t know any better. I would swear that, that McLaren car spun out on purpose. It was perfectly positioned to block both of our line of attacks. There’s a lot of room on that turn but if you put a car sideways in the middle of the turn you cut off all lines of escape. It won’t matter how you go into the turn one car sideways means a pile up. Beth and I had no place to go but into or over the top of that car. I guess that Beth got more of the into option while I got the over the top option.” I felt my car shift and started to worry that it was going down on it’s top. Until I felt it settle onto its side and I could see the rescue workers. “Got to go dad the Rescue team is here.”

“I know. I’ve been watching them through my binoculars. Do as they say, and we’ll see you girls down at the medical center.” With that the radio went dead. I sat there as the Rescue unbuckled my safety harness. With care they helped me from my destroyed car. As I walked away from my car I wanted to cry.

First, I have my transmission go to shit ruining my chances at a good poll position during qualifying. Then the fight that to reach Beth only to have that advantage taken away by people stacking up the field. Then when we finally get the chance to start using our plan, we get taking out by someone being a dumbass. I won’t mind the wreck, but they went about in a way that destroyed my first racecar. I looked over at where Beth’s car sat on the first tow truck. I could see why she was so pissed off. The enter front end was crushed, twisted, or bent beyond recognition. I just dropped my head in defeat. They had won this round.

“Looks worse than it is sis.” I look and smile at seeing Beth standing there next to the ambulance. “We’re walking away from this one. Remember what Chief Marks said the other day. Any wreck you can walk away from is better than the one you get carried away from on a stretcher.”

“Yeah you’re right Beth. I just wish that our run hadn’t ended the way it did tonight.” I look over at where turn 11 sits. “Beth is it my imagination or did that monkey nut from McLaren spin out at just the perfect time to take us both out?”

“You saw it that way as well? Yeah, I thought it was kind of funny for that car to spin out at just that exact point in the race. It wasn’t the first time that fuck nut’s ass end swung wide on me.” I looked over at the other ambulance where the McLaren driver stood. “More than once he cut me off with a fishtail fleck.”

“I thought as much.” I looked around and then helped Beth to climb into the ambulance. “I think they don’t want us here, sis.”

Beth just gave me a cross look before seeing the smirk on my face. “No shit! Really? Whatever gave you that idea?”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 16
Sunday, Raceday, Shanghai, China
We touched down in Shanghai on Wednesday. I should say that the team touched landed in Shanghai on Wednesday. Mom and dad were still in Bahrain dealing with the F1A and the crash investigation. I’m not the only one that thinks the Bahrain wreck wasn’t an accident. Hell, over eighty percent of the world believes that Fontana turned his car sideways to take both Beth and me out of the race and attempt to remove us from the racing circuit for the year. There has been talk around the pits that Fontana and Hershel will lose their rides. Not that anyone will miss the two assholes.

It seems that of all the drivers on the current circuit they are two of the most hated. Not so much by the fans but by the other race teams. I’ve been doing a little digging and it seems that there has been more than fifteen official complaints filed against Fontana and twelve against Hershel all for unsportsman like conduct. Personally, I think the two men are a pair of egotistical assholes of the first order and both are deserving of a life altering ass beating. The only problem is you can’t fix stupid, not even with duck-tape.

I know that Chief Marks is wanting to pound on the two of them with his prize torque wrench. Chief Hailee just wants to place their heads in his tire press to see if their heads will hold thirty-six psi. I know that if dad gets a hold of either one that their ability to contribute to the human race will be greatly reduced as he removes their manhood with a blowtorch. I won’t even go into what mom wants to do to them. I shiver just thinking about the threats of bodily harm she was promising. I know that Tony, Danny, Jose, Will, and Greg had to pull the girls on our pit crews back from attacking the other pit crew teams.

Talk about holding onto a tiger by the tail. More than a few of the other pit crews found out the hard way that our girls are mean as shit when pissed off. Two of the guys from Toyota had to be seen by the trackside medics for their injuries. One will be needing a nose job to fix his broken nose. The other will be sporting a set of black eyes for the next month. Thanks to their little fight mom double checked all the girls’ luggage before we left Bahrain to make sure none of them were carrying weapons. I think word will finally get around to the other teams to not screw with the women of MRDI. It could be hazardous for your health.

I’m just happy as hell that Yesterday’s practice and Qualifying went a hell of a lot better than last weeks. Beth got fourth place while I pulled down third place. I know the many reason was we were both pissed off at being taken out in last weeks race. That and what the reporters have been saying about us. I don’t know who has been more pissed off over what the talking heads have been saying, Tony or Kelly. Sure, they’re mine and Beth’s significant others but I swear they’re almost egging on the pit crew to commit bodily harm on the reporters. I know that Kelly wants to gut that fuck-nut from ESPN with a dull spoon. While Tony just wants to snatch the gal from the Speed network bald. Starting at her crotch and working his way up.

I think one of the reasons we Qualified so well was what Coach Hall had us all doing for the past few days. We must have run the entire track three times every morning and another three every evening just to get ready for Qualifying. We may not have been able to find a first person view of the track on race conditions on the net, but we now every inch of that track.

Circuit Length 5.451kms, number of turns is 16, run in a clockwise direction. Has a fan capacity of 200,000, was established 2004, and the designer was Hermann Tilke to be a circuit for the new millennium, with impressive spectator facilities and a media center which spans the start finish straightaway. When it opened it was billed as the venue all others should aspire to. It features Tilke's trademark long straight followed by a tight hairpin.

Also, when it opened it was one of the most expensive F1 venues costing around US$459 million, funded by a government-backed joint-venture company. The track was not without scandal though. A scandal that almost shut it down. In September 2007, the former manager of the circuit Yu Zhifei was convicted of embezzlement in a corruption scandal which included several senior communist party officials who also lost their jobs.

Its shape is designed to look like the Chinese character ‘Shang’. Which means high or above, and there are also other echoes of traditional Chinese architecture, including the team buildings which set on stilts in the lake. The land it sits on was formally swampland and had to be reclaimed before any building could begin. Despite this, it was constructed in just 18 months with a team of 3000 engineers. The inaugural race in 2004 was won by Rubens Barrichello driving a Ferrari, and in 2006 the circuit saw Michael Schumacher's final grand prix victory before his retirement at the end of the season.

A lap around this bad boy is one of the more challenging on the circuit. The first two bends make a 185km/h right-hand curve which leads immediately into turns 3 and 4 taken at 105 km/h. One and two are far more difficult - a lift on entry followed by various taps of the throttle and brakes are needed so the car maintains balance throughout. It also becomes blind towards the middle of the corner. Three and four are nowhere near as difficult but a good exit is needed to gain speed down the following straightaway and through turn 5. The complex of turns 1-4 makes up the first of two ‘snails’ on the circuit, the other being turns 11-13.

Turn 6 is a second gear, right-handed hairpin with a plentiful run-off. Turns 7 and 8 make up a high speed chicane - the left-right complex sees a constant G-force of 3g’s and a minimum speed of around 100 mph. Turns 9 and 10 immediately follow. Both are slow left-handers which require a good exit to gain speed down the next straightaway. This straightaway dumps into the second ‘snail’. Turns 11 and 12 effectively make up a slow left-right chicane where the use of the curbs is extremely important, mainly because the traction is low. It is so low that we might as well drift our way through it.

Turn 12 exits into Turn 13 which is a very long right-hander. That becomes less and less tight. The need for an extremely good exit on this Turn is important. The reason for this is the longest straight currently in Formula One follows. At 1170m, it is the equivalent to 11 soccer pitches laid end to end, or the same length as three and a half of the world's biggest aircraft super carriers. Even with this massively long straightaway we’ll still need to watch for the end. That sucker ends in a tight assed hairpin turn from hell.

Turn 14 is a righthanded hairpin turn right at the end of the straightaway. The second gear corner is a prime overtaking spot as DRS is available in the run up to the corner. With Turn 15 allowing for an aggressive inside overtaking, the two turns make for extremely tight racing in this area.

Turn 16 is the last corner and a real bitch to handle. The turn is a fourth-gear left-hander which requires a quick tap on the brakes. Braking early can be more effective as you can then carry more speed through the corner and then down the pit straightaway. The total length of the circuit is 5.451 km, which is about average for most Formula One circuits. The average Qualifying lap speed is around 1:31.678 with a Race lap of around 1:42.778 on average.

Beth’s time of 1:32.537 earned her fourth place in the starting lineup. I know that she would have done better if she hadn’t missed that one down shift into Turn 14. As it is my time of 1:31.77 was just barely enough to earn third. If Beth hadn’t missed the shift, she would have had my position and I would the one in fourth place. I know that I shouldn’t bitch, but just once I want to beat her ass in Qualifying on my own skill.

“Wondering how the cars will handle this afternoon, sis?” Beth’s voice caught me off guard. I hadn’t even heard her walk up behind me, I was so focused on the track.

“Thanks to that rain last night Beth that track is green. No. Not just green, but slick as black ice on a mountain road in February. It’s not going to matter where we start today. It’ll take anywhere between seven to ten laps before we can really open up our engines. And that’s the good news.” I bitched. “We still have to deal with those two ass-clowns Fontana and Hershel on the track.”

“Well, I have some good and bad news on that front. The Commission just announced that they’ve both been suspended for the rest of the year.” Beth smirked and looked over at their old team. “If they want drive anywhere it won’t be on the F-one circuit.”

“Any idea of who is going to replace them?” I asked.

“That’s the bad news.” Beth sighed. “The Richtmann bothers.”

The moment the name left Beth’s lips I knew we were in trouble. Hans and Detrick Richtmann twin brothers and hell on wheels. Two young men that could very well put an end to our chances for a winning season. Hans was not one to fool with on a road course. Detrick though was the one to watch on track courses. I wasn’t too worried about taking them on. So long as we were on road courses, but it was places like here that worried me. I’ve seen the Richtmann twins tare up track courses around the world.

“Nothing we can do about that sis. All we can do is deal with them on the track. If they get stupid, we do like we were going to with Fontana and Hershel.” I look over at my sister and snarl. “We put their asses in the fucking wall.”

“Damn Bobbie! You really got a hard-on hate for these guys. What gives? You’ve never gone into a race made before.” Kelly comments as she walks up to us. “It’s almost like you’re hoping the other drivers try something out there today.”

“Because she is hoping that they try something, Kelly.” Tony said as he walked up on the other side of Beth. “Those fuck-nuts could have gotten Robbie and Beth hurt with that stunt last week.”

“More like gotten one of us killed with that stunt.” I snapped. “I may play rough out on the track, but I never place another driver in danger. I may push the limits of my skills, but I never go past my limits into the danger zone.”

“Um… Bobbie, baby I love you, but I call bullshit on that last part. You always push your limits into the fucking red zone.” Kelly quipped as she hugged. “And when you get into the zone with your music, you get downright scary.”

When I went to correct Kelly, Beth jumped all over me. “She’s telling the truth Bobbie. You’re scary when you’re in the zone like that. Not even I can match your skill when you get like that. You do shit with our cars that is nothing but pure magic.”

“I’m not that good Beth. I’m” That was as far as I got before I had Tony correcting me this time.

“Wrong Bobbie. This time I’m calling you on the bullshit.” He chuckled as he gave me a steady look in the eyes. “Even before I walked through the doors of MDRI I had heard the rumors about you. I’ve met more than a few professional racers Bobbie. Been to more NASCAR, Indy, and F One races than most kids our age. I learned most of that thanks to my former career as a Mix Martial artist. Then you go out there and win your first professional race with a lead that has never been matched. You are that good.”

“Bobbie, Beth! We need to see you two over at the trailer on the double quick.” Chief Hailee called out to us.

“On our way Chief.” Beth called back. She turned to Tony gave him a kiss as I kissed Kelly. The both of us ran towards the trailer. I knew that something was up, and it wasn’t good. The last time Chief Hailee called us into the trailer it was to tell us we were having to replace our transmissions.

As we entered the trailer, I wasn’t the only one brought up short. There in in front of us was the Chairman of Formula One Group and the FIA, Chase Carey. I turned to Beth and sighed. “We’re in deep shit now, sis. You know who were facing?”

“Yup, the big boss.” Beth looked around the room at the rest of the people there. Just as I did before she went on. “I just hope that mom and dad don’t fire our asses.”

“They can’t fire us Beth. They may ground our asses, but not fire us. That’s the down side of being their daughters.” Carey chuckled at my comment. I looked over at him and steeled myself. “Well, Mr. Casey what is the verdict?”

“For starters Miss McGuire, I wanted to be the one to tell you the good news. Due to the actions of Fontana and Hershel last week the Commission feels that you and your sister were robbed of your chances to improve your positions in the points standings. The Commission has decided to award you their drivers’ points. Their manufactures’ points will be revoked and turned over to your parents’ company. A penalty of fifty-thousand dollars will be leveled against their old teams. Both have had their Super License for Formula One indefinitely suspended. Unfortunately, that is the extent to which the Commission can punish the two men.” I could tell that Carey wanted to do more by the tone of his voice.

“Sir, I know and understand that there is just so much that you and the Commission can do.” I told him honestly. “Personally, I would have preferred it if you left them on the circuit.”

“Why in the world would you have wanted to be on the same track as those two scoundrels?” I could tell that my answer had caught the man off guard. Then again, he may be an American, but he wasn’t a South Carolinian. Not by a long shot.

“I don’t get payback this way.” I snarled.

“We TOLD you Mr. Carey that our girls wouldn’t be happy with the Commission’s decision.” Dad snarked. Only to have mom chuckle. “They take getting wrecked on propose very personal.”

“You’re lucky that they’re willing to let you handle this matter.” Chief Marks snapped. “If it was up to us those two would be pushing up daisies. If not worse.”

“I just want to adjust their attitudes with a torque wrench.” Chief Hailee growled out from where he stood. “I won’t even go into what my pit crews want to do to the morons.”

“I see.” Carey swallowed hard at the very bluntness of the two Crew Chiefs. “I take it that there has been more than just the normal team rivalry hazing going on?”

“I suggest that you get with the other teams Mister Chairman and get a handle on the bullshit that has been going on in the pits.” Dad answered harshly. “Because if you don’t. You’ll have a blood bath on your hands in the pit area.”

“Why is that?” Carey asked him.

“Because my PIT CREWS are made of the sons and daughters of South Carolinian rebels. People that can get bent out of shape real fast when people fuck with their young.” Dad told him truthfully then went on with a smile that never reached his eyes. “I won’t even go into WHAT my pit crews will do if they’re cornered.”

“I see that I have a problem on my hands.” Carey said quietly. “Is there any way to keep things from getting out of hand?”

“I doubt it.” I snapped. “As it is Beth and me, have been pulling our pit crews back from retaliating over the stupid shit already.”

“Care to give me an example young lady?” Asked a woman in her mid-forties to early-fifties.

“If you want examples of the bullshit that my team has been putting up with just talk to the female members of my pit crew.” Beth answered the woman in a tone that left little the imagination. “The next time one of the OTHER teams’ member makes a sexual harassing remark or gesture towards them they might just take matters into their own hands.”

Even I had to shiver over the implied threat of bodily harm. “Trust us Mr. Carey. You don’t want to the FEMALE members of our pit crew taking matters into their own hands.”

Between the two vailed threats Carey must have finally realized just how touchy the situation was in the pits. “I’ll have to verify these allegations Ladies before going further, but if there is even a hint that they’re true. Let’s just say that there will be hell to pay.”

“If there is nothing else? I got a race to win.” I said and turned towards the door of the trailer.

“Just one more thing Miss McGuire.” Carey said load enough to stop me. I turned and looked back at him. “IF you or your sister should take matters into your own hands on the track. I will be forced to suspend you as well. Understood?”

I gave the man a glair that left no question as to how I felt about the threat. “So long as the OTHER drivers behave themselves, I will play nice. They get out of hand. I’ll play just as rough as they fucking do, Mr. Carey. Understand something. If they try to put me into the wall. I’ll return the favor.”

With that Beth and I turned to walk out the trailer, but I stopped. “Oh, and Mr. Carey, when I put someone in the wall. They’re fucking to walk away.”

As we exited the trailer, I heard Carey asking. “Is she joking?” and everybody in there answered with one word. “NO.”

I got back to my car as the signal to manned our cars for the hot laps sounded. I gave Beth a hug. “Be careful out there, sis.”

“You to, sis.” Beth said and headed for her car.

It didn’t take me long to buckle in and finish getting ready for the hot laps. When the Marshals let us out on to the track for the first of the hot laps, I knew that the estimate I had about the track was way the fuck off. It was going to take closer to fifteen laps before the track had any type of traction. If it ever gained any type of traction. I knew that Chief Hailee and Marks weren’t going to like my report on track conditions. Fuck I didn’t like the track conditions.

Chief Hailee must have a sixth sense, or he could read our expressions better than I gave him credit for. “Talk to us girls. What’s the problem?”

“That track is worse than the Lady on a bad day in February Chief.” Beth put it bluntly. “Shit! It would be easier to take rout thirty-eight to the beach in an Ice Storm.”

“On bare fucking tires with a rubber clutched Chevet.” I gripped.

“DAMN! That is fucked up.” Chief Marks cracked then turned serious. “Is there anything that we can do to even out your chances? Other than lay down enough rubber or speed stick to bring the track conditions back to race form.”

“I would LOVE to drop enough speed stick out there to coat twenty tracks Chief Marks. Only that ain’t going to happen. The Marshals aren’t going to delay the race long enough for it to dry.” I answered with some heat. “The only way that track is going to get back to race conditions is by getting out there and laying down some rubber under race conditions.”

“Shit.” Chief Hailee snapped. He turned to the pit crews. “Okay people change of plans. I want the softest tires we got in the inventory broken out and put on both cars.”

“Wait Chief. Why the softest? Won’t our mid-range tires be better? I don’t mean to question your decision.” Tony asked him.

“The girls are going to need all the traction they can get for the first ten laps. The softer tires will give them that much of an edge. At least until the other teams figure out what we’re doing. Then all bets will be off.” Chief Marks answered him.

“It won’t be enough Chief Marks. That track is just too green.” I answered truthfully. “The only edge we’re going to have out there today is our skills at backroad racing.” I pointed down pit road at the other teams. “They’re all making the same changes.”

“Shit you’re right, Bobbie.” Hailee had just spotted what I already had and wasn’t happy. “Kathy, Cassy, Sherry, and Charlotte I want you girls to give me an additional five degrees down on the front wing and stabilizers. It might be just enough to give them both an extra amount of grip.”

All four girls smiled then took off to carry out Chief Hailee’s orders. While they were making the adjustments to the front wings and stabilizers for each car. The guys were busting their asses changing out the tires on both cars. I knew that they had plenty of time but for some reason our pit crews had been pushing themselves to be better every time they stepped foot on the track.

With each Qualifying, practice run, and race they gotten better and better. Between Coach Hall’s training regiment and Chief Marks and Hailee’s teaching the two pit crews had become more than I had ever hoped for in a team of race mechanics. They had all become true professionals in their new field of studies. The girls had all started to study automotive body design to better understand the impact of aerodynamic design on racing. Half the guys had been taken under Chief Hailee and Marks’ wing when it came to fabrication. The other half had been taken in by dad to learn about engine and transmission design. Everything they learned just made them ALL better at their assigned positions on the pit crews. Unlike the other teams who only knew their positions and the responsibilities of those positions.

I tugged on Chief Hailee’s sleeve to get his attention. “You know something Chief. Between you, Chief Marks, and Coach Hall you’ve really taken my crazy assed idea and made it real.”

They both chuckled but it was Chief Hailee that explained what really happened. “It may have been hairbrained, Bobbie. But the truth is something that none of us expected. Those friends of yours took their chance and have gone for broke. All of this is their doing, not ours. All that we had done is guide them.”

“That’s the truth. I’ve never seen such dedication to learning a craft that these kids have shown. As it is, we can barely keep up with their need to know more and more.” Chief Marks smiled. I looked over at Coach Hall who was also smiling.

“They’re only tell the truth Bobbie.” She said. “I’ve been a PE teacher for fifteen years now. The Cheerleader Coach for the last seven. Until just recently I’ve never TRULY felt like a teacher. Now, not only do I feel like a teacher but a real COACH for a change. And Roberta, none of this won’t have happened with out your so called ‘hairbrained’ idea.”

Before I could correct any of them Beth and I were called for the drivers intro and parade. As much as I love racing, I have begun to hate certain aspects of the sport. Let me correct myself. I just can’t stand all the pomp and circumstance bullshit. Why can’t we just show up and race is something I’ll never understand.

Once the Starting Grid Presentation and Formula 1 National Anthem was taken care of the it was time for the race. With as much care as possible I prep for the race. I watch as Beth climbs into her car knowing that once the race starts, we stop being sisters. We become competitors. Sure we may be on the same team for most of the race, but for the last two laps it’s every man and woman for themselves. That is something that Beth and I both know. I also know that when it comes time Beth won’t give me a second chance. No matter what happens I got to drive to the best of my skill.

As I climb into the cockpit, I hit the play button on my I-pod. Even as I strap in, I let the sounds of AC/DC’s Back in Black thunder into my soul. The call to start engines comes only halfway through the song. I feel the engine crank over bring with the familiar rumble of power. The adrenalin starts flowing as the rumble reaches my bones.

This is what I live for, controlling the 1.6-litre V6 turbocharged monster that is the very heart of my car. At first glance, this sounds a lot like a smaller version of the V8 engines you find in many production sports cars. That is until you realize one thing. That is F1 engines routinely rev up to 18,000 RPM. It’s all those revs that produce more than 300 HP/L for a total output of around 750 HP or more. It may be the V10’s of old, but it is still a monster on anyone’s track.

Even as we roll onto the track for the warmup lap, I have to fight to control my need for speed. I know that the track is slicker than cat shit on a linoleum floor. If I don’t take care, I’ll be the one in the wall and without help this time. There are just way too many places on this track to screwup. As we round turn 3, I can feel the ass end sliding just a little bit. Not enough to lose control, just enough to let me know the track is still too green to go full tilt. Even with the all the hot laps there just isn’t enough rubber for a solid grip yet. As we exited the left-handed turn 4 into the short straightaway between 4 and 5 I realized that even the straightaways are going to be nasty today.

The more of the track we cover the less I like of the car’s feel. I beginning to think that the change in tires and angle of the front wing was the wrong way to go. Then again mom and dad trusted Chiefs Hailee and Marks for the last fifteen years with setting up their cars for all types of conditions. I need to trust them my damned self. They should know what they’re doing.

As we enter turn 6 I notice that the inside line is going to be a bitch. Even after all the hot laps that have been run there is almost no rubber near the inside edge. If I want to use the inside line it won’t be until much later in the race. Unless it is as a last resort. There is no way to really know until we get up to race speeds to see how that corner will behave.

Turns 7,8,9, and 10 feels almost like a run to the beach on route 37 during a heavy rain. The straightaway from turn 10 to turn 11 is just fast enough to may be get some distance on Beth but no real passing speed. The damned left hairpin of turn 11 is going to be the ass kicker as it leads into the long wide right hander of turn 12. If it wasn’t for turn 13, I would just keep my foot down until I hit that massive straightaway. The problem is the track is just too green for those types of maneuvers right now.

That is where the race is going to be decided today. That beautiful long straightaway is going to be the deciding factor. I should say on how you handle that piece of the track. Whoever gets onto the straightaway first will be the winner. If two drivers come off that turn at the same time it’ll be nothing more than a drag race. Something that both Beth and I are really good at. The problem will be if it is me against Beth. I’ll lose. She is just better at drag racing than me. The only way I’ll win is if I get lucky and Beth makes a mistake. We exit turn 13 onto that straightaway and I can that I’m right about the straightaway.

As we enter turn 14 I can already tell that this is going to be another make or break point. The hairpin of turn 14 is a hard right hander leading into the softer right hand turn of turn 15. The exit off turn 15 is going to be a rude awakening as turn 16 is a sharp left hander that exits onto the front and pit lane straightaway. I watch as the pole position car pulls to a stop at the starting line. By now the final notes AC/DC’s Back in Black were playing in my ears.

I know that the green flag is going to fly as soon as the field is set, but I know that the flagman is the one in control. Not the joker in the pole position. As much as I want to jump the line, I got to wait for that flag to fly. Just like everyone else.

The opening tones of Rammstein’s Engel sound in my earbuds. The heavy driving beat of the drums. The thump of the base. The lonely whistling that draws you in. Then finally the crash of lead guitar. As the first words of the song sound the flag drops. The race is on and I fall away into the mind set I need to run this race.

The first half the race went just like I expected it to. Everyone was feeling out the track and not taking any chances. It also gave the track enough time to rubber up and come into race trim. We’re all turning in faster and faster lap times. With each lap we put down the track comes in faster and faster. The more rubber that we put down on the track the better our traction. This is both good and bad. Good in that we’re getting better traction. Bad in that we’re going through tires like crazy. It’s lap twenty-eight and we’ve already had to pit three times for new tires. At this rate we’ll be out of tires before the end of the race.

It has taken me more than nineteen laps to finally get the feel for where the track is going. I never thought that I would be racing a track instead of the other racers on the Formula One circuit. This track has been a nonstop ballbuster from the start. I thought that racing at Darlington was a bitch, but today this track is making the Lady seem like a sweetheart. It didn’t matter which turn or straightaway we were on the track as just plan nasty. Even with the other drivers being careful there had been three spinouts, and one flat out wreck.

For me. It didn’t matter what happened out here. I just wanted to finish this race in one piece. I can tell Beth is of the same mind. As it is our biggest problem has been the Richtmann brothers. They have slowly climbed their way up through the pack from the last two places. Both of them are in holding positions 7th and 8th. The bitch is that neither Beth or I have been able to get into position to make a pass for second or first place. We’ve gotten close a few times but just haven’t been able to close the deal.

It was like being on your first date and only getting a kiss on the cheek at the door. The crazy part is we were under ORDERS from ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’ to hold back still. The track is in perfect race trim. I could overtake both of the lead cars in turns 2 through 4 with no problem. If not there then I know I can take them on turns 8 and 9. The last place that I know I can pass them both will be in turns 14 and 15. As much as I would love to be able to overtake them on one of the straightaways. There is just no way in hell for that to happen. They’re just too fast in the straightaways. They’ve already proven this on every lap.

We round turn 16 and the yellow flag comes out. Again. “Beth, Bobbie, back it down. Kratwright slide in on turn 4. Looks like a blown right front tire.”

I was a little surprised at hearing this from mom. She normally stays off the radio during a race. This was dad’s bivouac. He knows what to look for on the track before, during, and after a race. The way she has been watching over us today is unprecedented. I know that something has been up from the start of the race for her to be on top of the spotters’ tower. Her next words confirm this idea for me and Beth.

“Bring ‘em girls. Full set of tires people. I want your best pit times kids. This one is for the money.”

I move over to exit onto pit road with Beth hot on my heels. I spot the lead cars doing the same. Whatever is going down mom is on top of the situation better than dad. I line up for my pit. Beth is about three seconds behind me. This is going to a close set of pit stops for the teams.

As I pull into my pit I slam on the breaks. I no sooner get stopped than I feel the car bounce into the air. I don’t even get a chance to catch my breath before I feel the car hit the ground hard and the front jackman move out of the way. I step down on the throttle and pull out fast. I see Beth pulling into our pit just as the front jackman moved back into position. I head for the pit road exit passing the second and first place cars still in their pits.

I start to key my radio just as mom comes over the radio. “Way to go kids. Pick up your speed a little Beth. You need to get past Hartman and Rally while they’re still changing the settings on their front wings. This is our time girls. Get out there and show them all what you can do.”

Holy shit! No wonder why mom has been holding us back. If those monkey nuts had changed their front wing settings before the race started the same way that we had this would have been a totally different race. It’s no wonder they’ve been taking so many wide turns. If we had gotten too close to them during the first half of the race we could have ended up in a wreck. No. We would have ended up in a wreck on any of the hairpin turns.

I have to smile at what mom saw that we didn’t. It’s no wonder she is the boss. Jewellianna McGuire is one woman that should not be taken at face value. She is sneakier than a ring tailed weasel out to get the hens in the chickencoop. Slyer than a red tailed fox on the hunt for a rabbit. Nastier than a wolverine backed into a corner with a stick up its ass.

“Bobbie, hold your line for the first section. Beth, tighten up on your sister, but don’t crowd her. I want you two to let the rest of the field come to you. Use the curbs and open it up but not all the way on the straightaways. Your only competition right now is the Richtmann twins. They’re coming on hard and fast.”

“How far back are they mom?” Beth asked her.

“NOT far enough, Beth. And I want them to get even closer.” When mom told us that I damned near pissed my pants.

I keyed my mike as we exited turn 4. “Have you lost your mind mom? I don’t want those two anywhere near me.”

“Roberta, I’ll have you know that I have not lost my mind. We need those two to get on your tails for at least ten laps. I want them to challenge you girls. They’ll keep the rest of the field back.”

It took me a few seconds to realize what mom was planning. By allowing the Richtmann twins getting into position to threaten us. They would in turn provide the needed blocking for the rest of the field. I started to giggle over mom’s plan. It was simple but yet elegant. Both at the same time. I gained a whole knew respect for the level of mom’s deviousness.

Then again, I should know better. After all I’ve been living as a woman for the past four months. I mean full time as a woman. I know that it is one of the conditions of my contract, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve come to embrace my new life as both a young woman and a professional Formula One driver.

We exit the straightaway between turns 4 and 5. I look into my rearview mirror and see Beth is right there in second place. The right-hander of turn 5 is shallow enough to take at close to top speed. Neither Beth or I have to break hard for the turn. The short straightaway into turn 6 is not enough allow the Richtmanns to gain much ground on us. I know that mom wants them to basically act as our blockers without knowing it. I just can’t figure out why they’re taking so long to catchup to us.

Then it hit me. They haven’t been keeping up with the track conditions. Not fucking good. I keyed my mike. “Mom, we got a real problem. The Richtmanns haven’t kept up with the track conditions. They’re slipping further and further back.”

“Shit! Bobbie’s right. They’re dropping back even now. Either that or they’re onto your plan.” Beth told her. I had a feeling that she may have a better grip on the situation than I did as she was closer to them. “As much as I hate to say this mom, but I’m pretty sure that they’re onto us.”

“Alright then girls. Forget the plan and just race the track.” I never thought that mom would give that advice in the middle of a race. “Bobbie, CRANK UP the tunes.”

With a practiced ease I take my hand off the wheel as we enter the straightaway between turns 6 and 7. I push the volume to the max on my I-pod. The notes of Motley Crew’s Shout at the Devil thundered in my ears and for the next 3 minutes 13 seconds I push the edge of reason as I race the track. I hear Beth key her mike.

“Push the jams, sis.” We had been working on a way for me to pipe my music between the two cars. With a push of the button my music was being transmitted over the radio to Beth. “Oh YEAH! Time to Rock out and drive for the win!”

I just laughed and down shifted for the next turn. We had twenty-seven laps to go before the checkered flag. Not to mention a shit load of work. Two laps later the song change again, and this time it was to one that I didn’t know was in my play list. Iron Maiden’s Speed of Light filled my soul and drove me to push the edge even further than normal. For the first time sense I won the contract I feel the Reaper on my shoulder.

Once again, I’ve lost my fear. Until now I didn’t truly understand why mom and dad had been holding me back. They knew I was afraid to truly cut lose and drive full title. The wreck had affected me more than I thought. They weren’t the ones holding me back, I was. They had seen it during the Qualifying and practices. Unlike Beth who is an ice cold emotionless driver I rely on my emotions. I hear Beth giggling over the music first then outright laughing.

“About time little sister. The Demon of Darlington County has finally come out to play. Drop the hammer Bobbie!”

Until now I had held back. I had kept my cool on the track. I want to show these people that I was a professional driver. Yet I had forgotten one thing. I had forgotten my passion. My fire. The driving need for speed. To be out here on the edge with my hair on fire and my ass catching. I feel the smile creep across my face with each turn that I take at the maximum speed.

“Are you smiling yet baby girl?” Mom asks quietly over the radio.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m smiling again.” I answer honestly.

“Who are you racing Speedy?” Dad asks in a voice filled with pride. “Is it the Reaper or the Rider?”

I can feel dad’s pride and worry. I know what he is asking and I don’t know how to answer other than honestly. I have to out here. There is no place to hide from myself. The fact that my parents want to know if I’m trying to outrun the Ghost Rider or Death himself is besides the point. They want to know if I can win against those cold heartless immortal bastards.

“I hate to tell you this dad. I never sold my soul and the grave holds no mysteries for me. If the Rider wants to find me. He’ll have to do it out here on the track where I HOLD the winning hand. As for Death he’ll have to wait a while long to claim my ass.” I exit turn 16 onto the front straightaway and jam the throttle to the floor. “I’m gone. I’ve a demon of speed bond to my will. Let him try to catch me. I’m gone!”

Out of nowhere I hear the voice of Kelly raised in victory over the radio. “GO! BOBBIE! GO! RUN HIM DOWN LOVE!”

I answered her the only way that I could. “DONE!” And took turn 1 in a full power slide. The rest of the race I never let Beth gain on me. I just drove for the pure pleasure of speed. Each turn I was on the ragged edge of insanity. I felt the Reaper reaching for me nonstop but always missing at the last second. I heard the huff beats of the Rider’s horse chasing me in a futile attempt to collect the Devil’s bounty on my soul. They may catch me one day, but it fucking won’t today. Not by a long shot.

I pitted three more times for tires. Every time my pit crew got faster and faster. It was as if they were driven by my need for more speed and tighter performance. The laps fell away in a dizzying countdown that left no mistake to the fans that I own this track and would win this race. Not even Beth could close with me now. It was taking all of her considerable skills just to stay within view of my rear end. The Richtmann twins gave up on trying to reach the two of us by lap forty.

By that time Beth and I were putting cars down a lap. Not even the lap traffic was slowing the two of us down. Gone was the Formula One drivers. In their places were two of the nastiest drivers to ever come out of South Carolina. The drivers that had shown us nothing but disrespect for the last two races were now reaping their reward. We let the music carry us both away into the place where death and injury no longer scares us. This is what Beth and I were born to do, and no one was going to tell us different. They can disrespect us only so far before we break out the fifty-five gallon drum of whup ass. Until now they thought we were nothing more than a publicity stunt. If they continued after today, we could and would put them into the wall. Permanently.

I crossed the finish line under the checkered flag with the sounds of Godsuya the Immortal thundering in my ears and fueling my blood. Beth was a little over ten seconds behind me with a full eight seconds on the Richtmann twins in third and fourth place. Little did we know that Beth and I had earned two new nicknames. McGuire’s Ice Cold Furies of speed and the Ice Bitches. Only one would be a nickname that we would defend to the end of the season and on. The other would haunt us no matter how we tried to change.

-----tbc-----

I wish you all a merry and safe Christmas. I will not be posting this week due to the holidays. Until then may the Goddess bless you with peace, love, and happiness.

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

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Chapter 17

Friday, Darlington, South Carolina

Twelve days of down time. I can really use this break. I know that the team can as well. Because after next week we’ll be at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix on the Baku City Circuit. After that we’ll be gone for the next month before our next real break between races. Which will be in June. July and August is almost one race per week. That is when the pressure will really ratchet up.

We arrived home on Tuesday in the early morning hours. The last few days have been crazy to say the least. Between the interviews for the different news outlets and all of the hoopla of celebrations for my victory I just wanted to hide. I really didn’t want to do the stupid interviews with the fashion magazines. I mean why should my fans care what I wear on my days off or what cocktail dress I wore to the dinners during the race week.

Yet that has been the kind of stupid shit Beth and I have been dealing with. I do know that if one more reporter tries to corner Beth about her relationship with Tony that he is going to give them a lesson in manners. By removing the reporters head. I know that the guys and gals of the pit crews have started to pair off as well. I know that mom and dad aren’t to happy with the way Kelly helped me celebrate my victory in Singapore. We traded in our V cards that night back in my room. I know that Kelly is going to flip out at dinner tonight when I gave her the ring.

I figured that we’re both out of school now. I have a great paying job. I have the bonus for winning Singapore it more than paid for the rings that I got for us. I know it sounds like I’m wasting my money like a kid in a candy shop. I just got to do it though. I truly love Kelly and want to marry her. I figure if I ask her now that she’ll have to say yes. At least I hope so. Besides, it’s not like her parents don’t know me. I just got to get the guts to ask her dad for permission now.

“Hey Bobbie, you got a minute?” I turn to face Joey. I could tell he had something on his mind.

“For you Joey, I got all day.” I waved for him to come on into my room. “Close the door behind you little brother.”

Once we were alone, I sat down at my desk while he sat on my bed. “Okay, Joey what’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been watching your races. I’m not the only one either. I don’t know if you understand what kind of impact you and Beth have had on this town. You two are more than just the newest local heroes, Bobbie.” I could tell that something was really bothering Joey. He was afraid of something.

“Okay, what have you heard, Joe?” I needed him to get to the point. “What’s got you spooked?”

“There have been a bunch of NEW faces in town. Faces that are digging into your past.” Joey’s words struck more fear in me than driving two-hundred plus on the Lady in Black. “More than a few of the guys from the old Wrestling and Basketball teams are thinking about talking Bobbie.”

“Shit! I don’t need this right now.” I growled out through clenched teeth. “Whose been keeping them in line for now?”

“So far the guys over at Slow Jake’s Garage have been running interference for you and Beth.” Joey gave out a small sigh. “Look Bobbie I doubt that it will be long before one of those fuck-head morons goes to the press.”

“Shit! This all because I won’t give them positions on my pit crew. They’re trying to blackmail my ass.” I screamed.

“I think it is more than just that, Bobbie.” I looked over a Joey when he said that. “I think this is more about getting revenge for their old coaches. That and what you did with their cars.”

“What else have you heard?” I knew that Joey was holding back for some reason. “Don’t worry about my feelings, Joey.”

“I also heard that they’re planning on going after you, and the guys on your pit crew. They’ve got some idea that they can force you into using them on your crews if they can get rid of the guys currently on the crews. That or hurt your team enough that you have to drop out for the rest of the season.” The more Joey laid out what he heard the madder I got.

“Have you told mom and dad about this yet? Or am I the only one you’ve talked to so far?” I needed to know who he had told.

“Just you so far. I was going to tell Beth next then mom and dad. Why?” Joey tilted his head to the side. I could tell that he was trying to figure out what I was up to. “Please don’t try to handle this yourself Bobbie. All you do is get hurt.”

“I’m not going to handle it by myself Joey.” I told him honestly. I planned on having a shit ton of backup when I confront the two teams. At least that was the plan anyway. “I just need to make a short stop over at Slow Jack’s.”

“Bobbie, what are you planning?” Joey gave me a sideways glance.

“Let’s just say that it is time to collect on a favor or two from the gear heads.” One look at the grin I was wearing Joey shivered. “Those thugs want a war. They just got one.”

I grabbed my purse and keys as I head for the garage. I heard Joey calling out to me as I slide into my Judge. “Don’t do anything crazy Bobbie. You still have more than half the season to go.”

I knew that he was worried, but I didn’t care. I needed to get ahead of this mess before it got out of hand. I had known that was only a matter of time before those Neanderthals of the Basketball and Wrestling teams would come after me. I also knew that I would be needing more than my pit crews to handle the situation. Thankfully there was one group of people that always pull in tight when an outsider threat comes around. Racers. Be they street racers, or professionals, no outsider threatens another driver and gets away with it for long.

As I drove through downtown Darlington, I kept an eye in my rearview mirror. I knew that Joey’s warning was one that I couldn’t just blow off. I had made more than a few enemies when I trashed the two teams. I made even more when I took their cars in that rat-race. It seems that my past was coming back to haunt me.

I had figured that it would be Carson who came after me first, not Coaches Honeywell, and Kline. It seems that the threat of losing their teaching credentials for endangering a former student was enough to curtail their hatred of me. Then again Honeywell and Kline had made their reputations as being Championship winning coaches. With them being fired at that schoolboard meeting it didn’t sit well with their teams. Especially when both teams were disbanded shortly thereafter. That little tidbit really didn’t go over too well with some parents who were hoping on scholarships and protentional professional sports contracts.

I wasn’t too surprised that my biggest fans wasn’t among the more acceptable student body, but the gearheads and outcasts. I get a real kick out of the emails that the guys and gals down at Slow Jacks send me and Beth. I spend more time answering those than anything else while on the road. With the exception of going over the next track’s layout. I never thought that I would be getting fan mail of all things. Yet, now I’m going to be asking those same fans to repay a favor that I never put any conditions on.

As I pulled into the parking lot for Slow Jack’s I noticed a few of the usual cars were missing. Namely the ones belonging to Thomas Hart and Johnny Foxx. I know for a fact that those two would never lose their cars unless it was in a race. For their cars to not be here then something was up, and it had to be bad. As usual my car’s appearance at Slow Jack’s was enough to bring out the gearheads by the droves.

As I climbed out of the driver’s door I was surrounded by a bunch of newbies. I just chuckled at the guys and few girls that had never seen my car before. They were already asking me questions about the engine, transmission, suspension, and everything else they could think of about my car. I decided to put a stop to the Q and A. I had business to handle.

“Where’s Jack at guys? I need to talk with him and the Knights.”

A new guy with thick glasses and slicked back blond hair stepped forward. “What business you got with Jack little lady?”

About that time Sam Hurley walked out of the garage area. “Yo! Specs, get a grip on the attitude before I have your ass scrubbing the toilets! You ain’t got enough time to be questioning customers especially not her! Besides you got trash to take out!”

Specs, turned and yelled back at Sam. “But she’s asking to see the boss man, Sammy. Like she knows him or something.”

“That’s because she does, you dumbass. Go finish cleaning up the showroom before I get pissed and have your ass mopping the garage floor again!” Sam yelled back as he walked towards me smiling. The guy nicknamed Specs just dropped his head and went to do as he was told. When Sam was five feet from me, he stopped. “How’s it going Bobbie? Never thought I would see you around here.”

“Not too bad Sam. As for me not coming around here, think again.” I chuckled. “Where do you think I got all the specialty parts for my Judge? I sure as shit couldn’t have them sent to my parents’ place. I see that you’re working for Jack now.”

“Yup. Me and a few of the other Knights went to work for Jack about two months ago. So, what can we do for you?” He was looking at my car as he wiped his hands on a rag. “You need something for the Judge? If you’re looking to sell. Forget it. No one for ten counties will buy it. Not unless you give Jack first refusal.”

I just chuckled at the comment about ‘selling’ my car. “I’m not looking to sell my car. I came here looking for Thomas Hart, Sam. You know where I can find him? I don’t see his car anywhere.”

Sam turned pale and looked down at the ground. “You’ll find him, and John Foxx over at Glen Forest, Bobbie.”

I thought I had been hit in the gut. I may not have liked Hart and a few of the other gearheads, but I never want to see them dead. To hear that those two were in Glen Forest Cemetery was a shock. “What happened, Sam? Did they plow in during a race?”

“I forget that you’ve been out of the loop kind of, Bobbie. Come on inside and I’ll give you the details.” I followed him inside to the mechanic’s breakroom. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold coke. “Want one?” He asked. I just shook my head now. He closed the door and sat down at the break table waving for me to join him. After I took my seat and he opened his coke Sam gave a funny look before starting. “You know in a way you’re responsible for their death’s Bobbie. Responsible in a good way.”

“How so?” To say that I was shocked at hearing that I may be responsible for those two’s deaths was unsettling.

“You remember that challenge you through down? The one about us cleaning up our acts, getting our FIA Super License or NASCAR License, and you would get us a shot at the professional circuit?” I nodded my head yes. “That’s what started it all.”

It took me a minute, but I remembered what he was talking about. In fact, it was that challenge that I was counting on to help handle the basketball and wrestling team. “Yeah, I remember. I also remember that I pissed off more than a few of you guys. What I want to know is how did that challenge end with Hart and Foxx dead and buried over in Glen Forest.”

“Slow down girl. I’m getting there, Bobbie. Did you know that Jack laid into all of us when we asked him about what you told us?” I just pretended to not know about that ass chewing by the head gearhead. “Yeah well, he did, and big time. Anyway, me, Tom, Johnny, and a few others decided to take you up on your challenge. We were really cleaning up our acts around here.”

“How so?” I really wanted to know. I have been out of the country for more than a month now. I wanted to know if they really were cleaning up their acts.

“Well, for starters. You know that old piece of land out on state route four-forty?” I nodded my head. I knew which piece of property Sam was talking about. It was an abandoned private test track for a AMC dealership that went out of business in the 70’s. It would be perfect for a road track. “We got together and bought the place for the back taxes. Since then we’ve been cleaning it up. We wanted to turn it into a real road course. Only one for street racers. Anyway, to make things work we all got jobs around town and with more than just our parents or at garages.”

When I heard what Sam and the others were doing, I just had to jump in. “Sam if you guys need anything let me know. I’ll even help out money wise. You got a great idea. A place for street racers to go that doesn’t put other people in danger. I’m more than willing to help out. Shit let me call my sponsors.”

“Thanks Bobbie, but no. This is something that we want to do. On OUR own if you know what I mean?” Sam told me with a smile. “HOWEVER, if a world renowned Formula One driver wants to try her hand at our little track on opening day? That is another story.”

I laughed at his easy attempt to get me to drive their track on opening day. “If I’m in country. I’ll be here. When do you expect to open up to the public Sam?”

“We’re hoping for some time around the beginning of August. We really would love for you to be there Bobbie. I know that Tom and John would have loved to see you be one of the first people to take on our course.” Sam was depressed beyond what was normal. He sighed and looked down at his coke can. “If it hadn’t been for you, we would never have even thought of doing this.”

“What happened to John and Tom?” I really want to know.

“Tom went to work for Southern Cross Ambulance Service as an entry level driver. John did the same for Darlington Ambulance. The funny part is your girlfriend’s parents were the ones to get the guys their jobs as drivers. They really cleaned up their acts, Bobbie. They weren’t the only ones either.” Sam sighed and looked me in the eye. “You could give every member of the Knights a piss test and they would come back clean. Tom pushed it through, and it is now part of our by-laws. No drugs, no booze behind the wheel, and above all no bullshit on the streets. We already bounced a couple of members for breaking the new rules.”

“Damn! I wasn’t expecting you guys to go that far!” I was truly shocked at hearing how far the Knights had gone. They used to be nothing more than a bunch of street racing dipshits.

“Well, when Jack read us the riot act over your challenge, he threatened to throw any Knight out of the club that couldn’t meet your challenge.” I could tell that Sam was telling the truth. “That’s when shit got real for the lot of us. Look Bobbie, most of us don’t have much of a homelife. Hell, some of us don’t even have a real family life. Tom’s was flat out shitty, just ask anyone. When he got that job over at Southern Cross, you would have thought that he won the fucking Powerball.”

“Damn! So, he really had turned his life around.” I looked down at my hands in my lap. I felt uncomfortable with what I was hearing. I didn’t want to be some kind of savior for these guys. I just wanted to be another driver around here. “If they had all that going for them what happened?”

“Last month there was a massive thunderstorm come through. Some time during the third shift there was seven car pile-up involving an eighteen-wheeler on I-twenty at the Coalman Road overpass. The eighteen-wheeler was hauling a fifty-three foot box trailer full of explosive chemicals. When Tom and John got there with their EMTs and ambulances they did something crazy brave. They weren’t even fully trained yet to pull people out of burning or wrecked cars, you know what I mean. They weren’t firefighters, but they went in hard and fast anyway. See that tractor was already starting to catch fire and the driver was dead. He kind of slammed into the center concrete support for the overpass cab first. The firefighters say they saved twelve people that night before going back to try and pull the driver of the eighteen-wheeler out. The explosion caught them off guard.”

“Holy shit! They did that? Just because I challenged you guys to clean up your acts. What the hell Sam.” I didn’t know what to say.

“No Miss McGuire. They didn’t do that because of your challenge.” I turned to see Slow Jack standing in the doorway. “They did it because they could. It is a real pleasure to meet the young woman that gave the Knights something to aspire to. Jack Stone, owner of Slow Jack’s and current head of the Darlington Knights.”

The man was as lean as he was tall. His hair was salt and pepper with full gray at the temples. I could also tell that he made his living bending wrenches. ‘Slow Jack’ Stone made his reputation off of his customization of cars, trucks, and vans. While he did the occasional street mode for a racer his real passion was in restoration of classic and vintage cars.

Standing up I held out my hand to the man. “The pleasure is mine sir. I’ve heard a great deal about your restoration and customization work. All of it good.”

“He is also the founder of the Darlington Knights, Bobbie.” Sam said from his seat. “I’m the first to admit that we got off the track that him and the other founders set down back in the sixties. He is also the one to help pull us back from the assholes that we became. Me and the others owe him and you a lot.”

“You guys did the work and turned your lives around on your own Sam. I just told you the truth when you needed to hear it. That is all that I did. Don’t go giving me credit for what you guys did.” I figured that I needed to put an end to this hero-worship shit before it got out of hand. I knew that I wasn’t what Sam was trying to make me out to be. I was just a driver that got lucky.

“Whatever, girlfriend! By the way. What brings you around here? It sure as fuck isn’t for the company. We all know that you’re head over heels for Kelly.” Sam was still blunt as could be. Thank the good lord. This was one thing that hadn’t changed about him.

“I’ve been hearing some fucked up shit Sam. It’s about me, Kelly, the team, and the press that has been snooping around.” I figured that if I went slowly, I wouldn’t catch them off guard.

“FUCK! Specs! Call the rest of the Knights! We got a code yellow!” Sam yelled into the garage bay area.

“Sure, thing boss! Who’s pissing in McGuire’s backyard this time?” the guy named Specs called back.

“Don’t know yet, but you know the drill. Flash the clubs and pass the word. We shut this shit down now. Understood?!” Sam called back before turning to look at me. “Don’t worry Bobbie we’ll find out who’s running their mouths and put a stop to it.”

“I already know. The basketball and wrestling monkeys are out for revenge. Joey came to me today with word about what they’ve saying and what they want to do.” I told him honestly.

“Sammy, I told you boys that Miss McGuire is under our protection. We owe her and now we pay her back. Find those mother fuckers and shut them down. If they want to rumble, rumble. If they want to race let me know. I’ll get the old dirt track for the day.” Slow Jack ordered Sam with more than a little heat. “If they don’t want either and still think that they can bad mouth Miss McGuire. Fucking hurt them anyway. Put their happy asses in the hospital. Career-ending injuries. Am I understood? This shit ends now. Then find these reporters that are threatening to expose our hometown girl and put a stop to them as well. Once and for all. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Sam turned to me and smiled. “We’ll take care of this Bobbie. You just enjoy your time here at home while you got it.”

With that Sam left me with Jack. “Mister Stone you and the Knights don’t have to do this. Your members don’t owe me anything. Yes, I was coming here to ask a favor. All I wanted was help in finding the reporters and the monkey-nuts. I can take care of the rest. There is no need for your guys getting in trouble with the pork.”

Jack Stone looked me in the eye then waved for me to sit down again. “Please take a seat Miss McGuire. I can tell that you don’t truly understand what you have done for this town. I think it is time for someone to fill you in.”

After Jack took his seat across from me, he began to tell what my raise to fame on the Formula One circuit had brought about in my hometown. To say that I was shocked is an understatement. “There have been a lot of changes since you and your sister have been gone. For starters, just look at the members of the Darlington Knights. Until just a few months ago they were a bunch of rowdy assholes tearing up the streets in illegal street races. Now, every last member has a real job and are working to make their dream of a road course real. They’re doing all the work themselves. They’ve earned every last dime for the construction cost honestly. They want a place where they can race but do it safely.”

Jack looked out at his garage. “I only employ five members. The guys that know what they’re doing with engines, transmissions, and bodywork. The whole gambit. The others have jobs in everything from flipping burgers, to construction workers even to some of the girls driving ambulances. Of those girls that are driving ambulances they’re taking night courses over at the community college so they can become EMTs. We even have two of our girls that are working as secretaries. One for a law firm the other for Fifth third national bank. Those are just the changes among the Knights thanks to your little challenge to clean up their acts.”

He gave me a sly smile. “We both know that none of them really have what it takes to make it on the pro circuits. They all figured that out really quick on their own. The police saw my people straightening out their acts and backed off. Your little challenge turned them all into upstanding citizens in an off-hand manner.”

He started to chuckle. “I know that you haven’t had time to swing by your old school, Beauregard Smith High, but even over there the changes have been happening. After Mrs. Orwell, tendered her resignation stating she wanted to stay home and raise her baby girl. Your, Mister Corely was appointed as the Principal shortly after you and your team graduated. The first thing he did was to suspend the entire wrestling team. It seems that they were the main bullies in your old school and were using their championship status for protection against prosecution. The basketball team didn’t fair well either. They were all put on more than just your normal academic probation. All of them are having to repeat the year now. All of the shit that those two teams were getting away with was traced back to that one school councilor Mrs. Carson.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. If just half of what Jack was telling was true. Then it was no wonder the wrestling and basketball teams wanted to fuck me over. What he told me next almost had me falling out of my chair.

“From what my guys and gals have told me the woman was a real bitch. Well, they fell short in their description. It seems that Mrs. Carson isn’t her real name. Alison Carson is a real person, but that woman lives in Las Vegas and is a teacher for the deaf. The woman that was posing as Alison Carson was in truth a wanted felon in Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma by the name of Alice Anderson. The woman was wanted on over forty counts of identity theft, fraud, and felonious impersonation. There were also charges of promoting prostitution. She was running a high-end call girl service out of her home in Vegas. From what my connections downtown have told me there are five States Attorneys and three Federal Prosecuting Attorneys that want her ass.”

“How the hell did she ever get her job at the high school? Didn’t they run a background check on her ass?” I couldn’t believe what is was just told by Jack. I just failed to truly grasp the situation. Let alone the monumental screw up by the authorities.

“They did run a background check and came up with a real teacher in Los Vegas. The schoolboard just took what they found on the net and ran with it. I mean if you find a person who has teaching degrees from places like BYU, and University of Maryland wanting to work in a small town like Darlington. You don’t think twice about hiring them or digging into their reasons for work here.” I couldn’t believe what Jack was telling me. Then I thought about how economically depressed Darlington had been over the past thirty some years. I could see how Carson got hired.

“Yup, there have been a lot of changes around town. Almost all of them for the good. One thing that has come about is the more accepting attitude of the LGBT lifestyles. I don’t know if it was because of you or if it was just because people are finally getting over their redneck attitudes. I just know that it has happened.” Jack just gave me a sly smile. As if he knew that I was really still a boy. I didn’t care. He and his club have been protecting my secret while I’ve been gone. I owed him and his club big time.

“Before you go saying that you owe me and the Knights, forget about it. You don’t owe us jack shit little lady.” I watched as Jack reached into his back pocket and pull out a tin foil pouch. At first, I thought it was chewing tobacco. That is until I saw the cartoon on the front of the pouch. It was of a baseball player blowing a bubble. A great big pink bubble. “My one vice.”

“I think all true mechanics chew Big League Chew.” I chuckled as I pointed to the pouch. “I know that my chief mechanics both chew the stuff. I think you might know them.”

Jack just nodded his head and stuck a wad of gum in his mouth. “Hailee and Marks are some of the best. You would be hard pressed to find better. That includes me.”

“Thank you, Mister Stone. I know how lucky I am to have them on my team.” I sighed as I looked out into his garage area at the few gathered members of the Darlington Knights. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Tom and John. Is there anything that I can do to help honor their sacrifice?”

Jack looked over at me with piercing gray eyes. “Win the fucking championship, Miss McGuire. Do that for my guys. They really want to make you pay up on that bet you made with them. I think they still believe that one day they would be able to race against you on a real track. They want that more than anything else.”

“I’m sorry if my actions pushed them to getting themselves killed. I just wanted them to turn their lives around. I knew that they weren’t the backwards dumbass thugs they played up. They both had real skill behind the wheel. They just weren’t ready for the track. They had never looked death in the eye and felt fear. I had.” I looked him in the eye. “That is my advantage. I’m not afraid of dying. I’ve been close to death enough in my life that I’m no longer afraid of the asshole.”

Jack chuckled as he chewed his gum. “I’ve watched you drive, Miss McGuire. I’ve seen the way you push your car. The way you slide through the turns, and power down the straightaways. I’ve been in this business a long time, young lady. I’ve seen racers like you before and they all have one thing in common.”

When he didn’t continue, I was forced to ask. “What’s that?”

“All of them, and this includes you, are racing the same person.” He blew a bubble and popped it. “You don’t race the track or the other drivers. You race the Bounty hunter.”

I’ve heard that name and saying all of my life growing up around race tracks. The old timers all talk about the one driver that can never be beaten. They call him the Devil’s Bounty Hunter, the Ghost Rider, the Phantom, and the Black Racer. Whatever they call him they all mean the same person, Death.

Jack held out his hand and pointed at me. “One of these days, young lady. You’re going to find that you can’t out run him. He always gets his due. You can find this out the hard way or you can take some free advice. The kind that you gave my guys. You want it?”

I knew that it the question was rhetorical. “Sure, why not? I can always use advice. Good or bad. It doesn’t matter.”

“Leave the hate you feel for death in the pits and don’t take your personal feelings towards the other drivers out on the track. You do that, and you’ll be one of the best. If you don’t sooner or later the Bounty Hunter will collect on your ass. Trust me, Miss McGuire. I’ve seen it happen more than once.” He stood up and waved for me to follow him. “Come on I want to show you something.”

I followed Jack through the shop into the showroom and over to a wall on the far side that was covered with pictures. I saw pictures of Jack with some of the biggest names in the sport. Both Dale Earnhardt’s, Richard Petty, Dale Jerod, Jeff Gordon, and a whole slew of others. Then there were the ones that I didn’t recognize. I watched as he pulled one of those down off the wall. He handed it to me with a sad smile.

“Do you know the man in that picture, Miss McGuire?” I shook my head no. I had no idea of who the man was. “That man is my oldest brother, Mike Stone junior. He was one of those up and comers back in the late eighties that no one ever really heard about.”

The minute I heard the name I knew who he was talking about. Mike Stone really was one of those one time up and coming drivers from the early eighties. The guy had three wins before plowing into the wall in turn three at Pocono Raceway, better known as The Tricky Triangle. I would never have thought that Slow Jack was the brother of ‘Misfire’ Mike Stone. That’s what the other teams started calling him because he kept missing his restarts.

“Mike was like you Miss McGuire. He too kept trying to out race the Bounty Hunter. And just like you he saw death at a young age. Mike survived a motorcycle wreck at sixteen that should have taken him out and put him in the grave. He would never have gone into racing if it hadn’t been for our dad. Mike really didn’t belong on any track in any circuit. He was too afraid of death. You though aren’t and that is a bad thing. You hate the fucker. That is not a good thing.”

I had taken in what Jack saying with a grain of salt. Until then that is. There was something in the last two sentences that felt off to me. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jack.”

“For any driver, it doesn’t matter what kind. The moment you quit respecting and fearing the specter of death you get sloppy. You get sloppy at over one-fifty you make mistakes. You make mistakes at that speed and you get hurt or dead. That’s what happened to my brother Mike. Look, you’re a great driver Miss McGuire, you can be one of the best. All you got to do is face your fear of death and control the hate that fear rises in you. You’ll always fall just short of your full potential. You can take or leave my advice Miss McGuire that’s all on you. Just know that I only told you this so that you can step beyond what everyone else sees in you.” I couldn’t believe the nerve of this man.

Yet everything he said was true. I did have a hard-on hate for the fear of death. It was what made me drive the way that I did. Yet there was something in his advice that called to me. “How do you suggest I go about losing the hate and fear, Mister Stone?”

“I can’t tell you how to do that young lady. All I can do is give you the hard-earned wisdom I have gathered over the years.” Then he chuckled. “Besides, I doubt that I’m not the only one to tell you this. I imagine your Crew Chief or psych have also.” This time it was my turn to chuckle. He had nailed the situation without being anywhere near the conversations. “Just listen to your heart, Miss McGuire and you’ll do fine. It is a better gauge than anything else that someone can tell you looking in from the outside.”

He gave me a sly smile. “I understand that the announcers have tagged you and your sister with the nickname of the McGuire Ice Cold Furies. Any other fun nicknames? Say ones from the other drivers? Maybe one that is less than complementary.”

“The Ice Bitches.” I told him honestly. “More than a few of them have a real hard-on hate for us.”

“That’s to be expected, Miss McGuire. You girls come out of nowhere and put up two wins in three races.” He started to chuckle harder. “Then you add in the way you two drive. It’s amazing that they’re only calling you young ladies bitches.”

I laughed right along with him. “Then if they’re that upset over our first few races. They’re really going to hate us after next week. The Azerbaijan Grand Prix is held on the Baku street circuit. That’s the type of racing Beth and I cut our teeth on. You give us half a chance and we’ll own the track. Not to mention the race. Hell, anyone of your members could take those prima donna assholes that I race against weekly in this type of race.”

Jack just chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Most of my guys and gals would do pretty damned good on a street course. The regular tracks would be their downfall.”

Jack waved for me to follow him to his office. Once there, Jack walked over to one of the four rollup map cases. I noticed that each one was marked with one of the top four motorsport initials. There was F1, NASCAR, Indy, and Drift. I could tell that I was in the presence of a true racing fan. I watched as he counted up the map case that was marked F1. When he got to the fourth map, he pulled it down. The map was a blown up printout of the Baku street circuit. Jack let a frown cross his face.

“Damn, this is a nasty little circuit. You got a mix-match of everything under the sun. Your Crew Chiefs are going to be fighting for a balance between downforce for the twisty bits and less drag for the straightaways.” I watched as Jack traced his finger along the race circuit. I noticed that he was going counter-clockwise. “This is going to be your biggest bite in the ass. This race runs backwards of what you’re used to. You’re going to have to compensate for this Miss McGuire. Forget about racing the other drivers. I can tell that this track is going to be merciless on those who make any mistakes.”

Jack continued to trace the circuit with his figure. “See here where the track loops around into the city’s narrow, winding Icheri Sheher old town, then suddenly starts to dramatically wind past Baku’s medieval city walls. Just like in Monaco, the slightest mistakes anywhere in this area are going to be punished quickly and severely. You’re going to need a really tight balance on your cars in this area. Because you’ll be coming out of all those twists and turns into one long assed run all the way along the shoreline of Baku with the final straightaway at the end.”

He turned away from the map and keyed his intercom on his desk. “Steph.” He wait a second then hit the button again. “Steph!” when he wasn’t answered a second time he yelled. “DAMN IT! STEPHANY! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”

A teenage girl with blond hair pulled into a high ponytail and glasses walked into his office. “Damn it, dad! What do you want?! I’m busy trying to find you that transmission for the sixty-eight Camaro Super Sport. I don’t have time for any of your bullshit! Someone around here has to find those parts!”

“Don’t go getting your panties in a twist with me little girl! You’re not too old for me to take you over my knee for a paddling.” I just chuckled at the way the father and daughter acted. “As for that tranny just call Sam’s Pick-n-pull on ninth street.”

“I already called them. Before you go telling me to call Pete’s, D-and-D, or Hustlers forget. Already been called and none of them have a sixty-eight SS. I’ve got calls into our suppliers out west right now, but don’t hold your breath. We might have to go with an after market transmission.” Stephany sighed. “now what do you want that’s so damn important?”

I had listen to the junkyards that Jack’s daughter named off and thought about one that she didn’t name. “Have you tried Breakers over in Conway or Seven Sons in Socastee yet?”

“Who are you?” Stephany asked wirily. “You’re not one of the Knights or one of their girlfriends. You’re too cleaned up for that bunch of rowdies. And how do you know about junkyards?”

I just chuckled as Jack face palmed. “Oh, for the sweet love of God. Can she get any ruder? I swear Stephany. I try and try to get you to act like a lady and what do you do? You insult not only a customer but one of our town’s newest rising star.”

Stephany looked at her father as he turned to me. “Miss McGuire, please allow me to apologize for my daughter. I’ve done my best to raise her to be more than just a grease monkey, but as you can see, I’ve failed. I know that her mother would be rolling over in her grave right now at her actions.”

“No need to apologize Mister Stone. I can understand her suspicion of me. After all I haven’t been around here in a long time.” I turned to the thirteen year old. “Besides the last time that Stephany saw me she was only seven years old and her hair was in twin-tails. Stephany trust me. Call Breakers and Seven Sons about those Camaro parts. If they don’t have them, they know who does.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Sorry for being such a bitch. I find that it’s easier when dealing with anyone that hangs around with the Knights.” She pointed at her dad with her thumb. “Case in point. What were you yelling at me for this time dad?”

“Do you remember where I put your uncle Terry’s videos of the Formula One tracks? You know the ones that I’m talking about.” Jack asked his daughter. At her black look he sighed. “The ones on the super eight film rolls.”

“Oh! You mean those movies of uncle Terry’s from when he was in the Army. I thought those were only training videos from his time in the field or something.” Stephany told her dad as she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Those are all in the breakroom closet. Third shelf down from the top. The projector is in your office closet on the left hand side of the top shelf. The screen is in our storage closet for the cleaning supplies.”

I was amazed by Stephany’s recall for where everything was. I thought I would be funny. “Do you happen to have a factory spec shift lever for a seventy-one Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am?”

Stephany just smirked. “Row nine, unit B, shelf four, slot E, in the secondary warehouse under Pontiac. We currently have three.”

Jack just chuckled. “Miss McGuire, I couldn’t run this place without my little girl. She came in here last year and organized the place. Starting with my warehouses and storage units. She knows where every last part is without having to look and how many we have of each part in that bin. Don’t ask me how, she just does.”

“Do you want me to grab those films for you dad?” Stephany asked in a bored tone. “If not, I got phone calls to make.”

“Go make your phone calls Steph. Start with the guys over at Seven Sons. Ask for Leu in the parts department. You’ll like him.” Jack waved for Stephany to go back to work. I watched as the teen just smirked and spun on her heel then flipped her twin-tails as she walked away. “AND DON’T FLIP YOUR HAIR AT ME GIRL!”

I busted out laughing. As Jack just bitched to himself for a few minutes. “Damn girl will be the death of me yet. Come on Miss McGuire. I’ve got a little present for you and your sister.”

“Mister Stone, just what are these films you were talking about?” I asked Jack with true curiosity.

“About four years ago my kid brother Terry had close to one-hundred and twenty days of leave time saved up. He kept getting deployed to the Sandbox. Anyway, when he was told by the Army that he had to use it or loss it. He talked with his CO got it approved and took it all in one big jump. Instead of coming home he followed the Formula One circuit for the season. He had saved up enough money from being overseas all the time to cover all his expenses.” Jack chuckled. “He always said that he would spend one year just following the races for at least one of the Circuits. Anyway, one of the things he did was walk the tracks with our dad’s old super eight camera. Talk about getting detail.”

“You mean to say that you have actual FILM FOOTAGE of all the tracks?” I asked Jack who just nodded his head yes. “How much do you want for those films? I got five hundred on me right now. If you want more, I’ll have to go to the bank tomorrow.”

I was already digging out my wallet and the money. I was not going to leave that shop without those films or digital copies. Jack just chuckled. “Don’t worry Miss McGuire. They’re yours. Or at least the digital copies are anyway.” At my blank look Jack explained. “I had digital copies made of each film and put the disc with the film case.”

Twenty minutes later I was the proud owner of twenty-one digital discs one for every track in the Formula One Circuit. “Even if these are out of date Mister Stone. You have just given me and my sister a leg up on the competition. I insist that you let me pay you for these discs.”

“Miss McGuire, if my daughter can find the parts that I need for the Camaro here in South Carolina then we’ll call it even. If she can’t then I’ll give you a call and you return the discs. Deal?” Jack held out his hand and we shook on it.

I put the discs in my purse and pulled out the address book Issy had me carrying. I flipped through to my car contacts. These were people that I knew who specialized in old and hard to find parts for vintage cars. “Got a piece of paper Jack?”

He handed over a pin and paper then wave for me to use his desk. I quickly wrote down the names for my contacts and their phone numbers. I handed the paper to Jack with a little flourish. “These are the people that I got most of the original parts for my Judge. If you call the first three and ask them for a part they’ll either tell you a price or point you to who has it. The first three only deal in original salvaged and restored or old new stock. The other names on that list be hit or miss for aftermarket. Use my name as a reference and it will cut out a bunch of the bs.”

“Damn! I thought that I was connected in this state. You must have the inside on more than ninety percent of the junkyards for four states. What is this twenty, twenty-five names?”

“Twenty-three in total. Just don’t give that list out to anybody else, please. The only reason I have those names is because of my family name. You understand.” I hoped that he did.

“I certainly do Miss McGuire.” He gave me a smile that was a mile wide. He waved the list of names. “Keep the discs. This is worth more than its weight in gold to someone like me.”

“You’re welcome. If you’ll excuse me. I’m supposed to be meeting my girlfriend for dinner.” I must have blushed as I thought about the dinner plans, I had made and the ring that was in my purse. Jack spotted the blush right away.

“I take it that tonight’s dinner is a special one. I hope she says yes Miss McGuire.” Jack chuckled as I blushed even harder. “You two young ladies make a beautiful couple by the way. Does she understand the risk that you take every time you go out on those tracks? I know that most spouses don’t.”

“She does.” I said nodding my head. “I doubt that I could get out there and race if it wasn’t for her at times.”

“I doubt that, Miss McGuire.” At my look of confusion Jack just smiled. “You’re too much of a racer to backdown from a challenge.”

I thought about what he said and returned his smile. “You know something Mister Stone. You just may be right about that.”

“You are young lady. Now go on and get out of here. You have somewhere to be and I have business to take care of.” He pointed towards the exit and I turned to go. “Oh, and don’t worry about those thugs. The Darlington Knights will handle that problem.”

There was a deadly note of finality in Slow Jack’s voice. I knew that I was right in coming to see the Knights. I may not have started out to turn their lives, but I did. Now, they were out to repay a debt by protecting my secret and past. All I had to do now was go and win the F1 championship in honor of Tomas Hart and John Foxx. I don’t know if I can do it, but you can damn sure bet that I’ll be giving it my best.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 18
Friday evening, Darlington, South Carolina

Thankfully I was able to move my plans around and get everything set for tonight. I kept what Joey told me to myself, and what went down with Jack on the downlow. I don’t need my family wondering what I’m up to when it comes to the basketball and wrestling teams form my old school. Besides, Jack told me that the Knights were handling the problem. Which in my mind was better than the cops getting involved. My biggest concern for the night was my outfit. I didn’t want to outshine Kelly, but I still wanted her to know how much this night mean to me and her. So, I was wearing a dress.

I smiled as I picked up Kelly at her home. I loved it when she dresses up nice. Especially when she wears a dress like tonight. I know that we might look like a pair of girls out on the town looking for a good time. The truth of the matter is I have everything planned out for our evening. It all starts with our first stop. I was even happier now that I have her dad’s permission. I was able to get it while waiting for Kelly to finish getting ready. He just smiled at me before pulling me into a hug welcoming me to their family. Sadly, he did as the second daughter he always wanted. There are times that I really hate my body and life.

Kelly looks over at me when we pull into the valet station for the Garden. One of Darlington’s few five star restaurants. It was the main reason why I was even wearing a dress tonight. The place is a real Black Tie joint. Last year the staff refused to let the top four NASCAR drivers in, because they refused to wear suit jackets. I knew that I won’t get pass the maître d' in my normal wardrobe of breeches and a blouse. I may not like wearing a dress most of the time and do so grudgingly during the week for those pain in the ass sponsor dinners. Tonight, I am wearing one just for Kelly and I really don’t mind. I think that a person should dress-up for something as important as proposing marriage to their loved one.

I thought that Kelly’s eyes were going to pop out of her head when I handed over the keys to my Judge to the parking attendant. In all the years that we’ve dated never once have I ever let someone else park my car. I had to giggle as I escorted my stunned girlfriend through the door of the Garden. This was also something we have never done before. By that I mean have dinner at one of the really upscale restaurants of Darlington.

“Good evening, Ladies. Will your dates be joining you shortly?” The maître d’ asked as we approached the reservation desk.

“No sir.” I told him with a smile. “It’ll just be the two us tonight. The reservation is under McGuire.”

“Ah! Miss McGuire. Weren’t expecting you for another half hour.” The maître d’ gave me a smile. “If you and your lovely companion would care to wait in the bar area, I will call you the moment your table is ready.”

“No thank you sir. I’m afraid that neither of us is of age. I won’t want to get you or your fine establishment in trouble with the law.” I felt that it would be best to be honest with the man. “We’ll just wait out here.”

“Miss McGuire, I can assure you that your waiting in the bar will not be an issue. So long as neither of you sit at the bar itself or try to order from the bar. Just wait at one of the empty tables. We do this all the time for the younger NASCAR drivers when they are in town for a race.” I could tell that the maître d’ really didn’t want us standing around his reservation desk. I looked over at Kelly and she nodded her head.

“Very well, sir. We’ll be waiting for your call.” With that I took Kelly’s arm and led her towards the bar. Once we were out of earshot of the maître d’ I started to giggle. “I’ll bet you a sawbuck that he is going to raise hell with the bus-staff about our table not being ready.”

Kelly joined me in my giggle fit. “I know he is. Did you see the look on his face when you told who you were. I thought he was going to piss his pants.”

“What I thought was funny was the look on his face when he heard my name and put it with the face. Then the way he was doing his best to assure us that there would be no problem with us waiting in the bar area.” I giggled. “I think that there has been what three maybe four NASCAR drivers that were younger than twenty-one in the last ten years.”

“I’m not sure anymore. I know that there have been more than a few. With Chase Elliott, Erik Jones, Ryan Blaney, just being the newest names on that list. I think there’s a new driver every year now. Someone just like you.” I thought about Kelly’s words as we made small talk waiting for the maître d’ to come tell us our table is ready.

When the time came maître d’ showed us to a table but not the one I reserved. I had want one that was in a quiet out of the way corner of the restaurant. Instead the table we were shown to was in the middle of the floor. Damn it. This was not going the way that I wanted. I want quiet and romantic, not out in the open for all to see. I needed to correct this now.

“Um… not to be a pain sir, but I requested a table that was a little more secluded. Is there one like that available?”

It took the man a few seconds to realize what I was getting at, but when he did, he just smiled. With flourish and a bow from the waste the maître d’ pointed off to his right. “I see. Right this way madam.”

He took us over to a small two person table that was over by the side windows. In the center of the table was a small red Victorian glass candle holder with a two-by-two white candle inside. The only thing that was missing was the roses that I had ordered. After I had seated Kelly and was taking my own the maître d’ returned. In his hands was a glass vase with the dozen roses that I had ordered to be delivered here. He moved the candleholder closer to one side of the table and placed the flowers.

“These arrived earlier Miss McGuire. The table staff forgot to put them out for your table sitting. David will be your server and will be here momentarily with your menus. Please enjoy your evening.” With that the maître d’ vanished for the rest of the night.

“Bobbie, what are you up to?” Kelly asked with more than a little suspicion.

“Nothing.” I put on my best innocent little girl act that I could. Which had the desired effect. It set Kelly to giggling. Once she calmed down, I smiled. “Trust me Kelly. Tonight, is a special night for both of us. Just go with the flow for now, please?”

“Okay fine. What eve? I’ll let you have your fun. But whatever your reason for all this it had better be good.” Kelly warned.

“It will be love, it will be.” I reached inside my purse and caressed the velvet box with her ring inside. I had spent just over fifteen-hundred dollars of my winning bonus on that engagement ring. I hoped like hell she’ll like it. “I’ve got something every important for both of us tonight. Something that’ll make both you and me extremely happy. I hope.”

Our waiter David had arrived by now with our menus. “Like I said whatever. Can we go ahead and order?” Kelly almost growled.

“Can I get you ladies something to drink while you make up your minds?”

“Two iced teas, sweet, please?” I asked quickly. “Just bring back a pitcher with those teas, sir.”

“Be just a few minutes, Miss McGuire.” David gave me a smile and hurried off to fill our drink order. I was more than a little surprised that our waiter even knew who I was, then again, the reservation was under my name. It didn’t take him long to return with our drinks. “I must say Miss McGuire it’s a real pleasure to have you dinning with us. I watched your last race. When you and your sister are racing the bartenders have the race playing on the big screens over in the bar. The whole staff have kind of become Formula One fans sense your debut in Australia.”

“Um… thanks.” I could only blush at the young man’s enthusiasm. Wanting to change the topic I looked over at Kelly. “Kelly you ready to order?”

“Sure, Bobbie.” She smiled as she recognized my embarrassment. I was still having problems dealing with the whole bit about having fans. “I’ll have the pacific salmon fish steak covered in sautéed mushrooms and onions with vegetable medley. Oh, and if you have any left an order of the deep fried beer batter stuffed mushroom caps.”

“Of course, Miss. I’m sorry to say that we ran out of the mushrooms earlier this evening. May I suggest an alternative?” Kelly nodded her head. “The fried mozzarella sticks are one of our signature appetizers.”

“Thank you those’ll do, David.” Kelly handed David her menu. “What’ll you be having Bobbie? Your usual carnivore meal?”

“Nope. I’ve still got far too many races to go. I got to watch what I’m eating for the next few months. Coach Hall has been riding my ass lately for putting on just a few extra pounds.” Bobbie patted Kelly’s hand then turned to David. “David, I’ll have the swordfish steak. Lightly grilled covered in a Hollandaise sauce. For my two sides the sweet corn in garlic sauce and green beans with bacon.” I hand him my menu with a smile.

After he put his pen David gave us both a smile. “Excellent choices. I’ll get these orders right in, Ladies. We have a light crowed this evening. So, your orders should be out shortly.”

I smiled as David walked away with our orders and menus. Kelly looked over at me. I could tell that she was still trying to figure out what I was up to. Not that I was going to tell her anything until I was ready. For the next twenty minutes we made small talk. We discussed everything under the sun. We talked about the places we have already seen and would soon see. We talked the tracks that I would race across. The different teams, their weaknesses and strengths. How I could beat them on the different tracks.

We stopped our talk when David returned with a large serving plater that held our meals. I smiled as Kelly dug into her meal with gusto. I could tell that she was enjoying her pacific salmon covered in sautéed mushrooms and onions. Not that I blame her. My swordfish was pretty damned good. I will give the Garden this much. Their fresh seafood menu was some of the best. The truth was ninety percent of their seafood came straight off the docks that morning. When the Garden say ‘catch of the day’ they mean it was swimming in the ocean that very morning.

David returned to take away our empty dinner plates and handed out the desert menus. I spotted what I wanted right away but knew that it would blow my diet straight to hell. I just didn’t care. Kelly most have spotted her choice just as fast. “David, we’ll have two of the hot chocolate fudge cake, please?”

“At once, young Lady.” David just wrote her order on our ticket and carried our dirty dishes away. Once we were alone, I gave Kelly a dirty look.

“Kelly, you know that I can’t have sweets right now. Coach Hall will be so far up my ass over that it won’t be funny.”

“Relax, Bobbie.” Kelly giggled. “Besides, with the way you run every day, not to mention all the weight training. You can use the few extra calories.”

I thought about what Kelly said. She was right. With as hard as I trained most days, it was almost impossible for me to put on ANY unwanted extra pounds. Coach Hall pushed us hard but not past our breaking points. I watched as the girls on my team slimmed down and tuned up putting on pure lean muscle. While the guys on my team put on anywhere between ten to fifteen pounds of rock hard bulk muscle. Besides, whatever I didn’t burn off during training I would burn off during the Practice runs, Qualifying, and actual race itself.

David returned with our deserts and we were both smiling from ear to ear. The rich chocolatey goodness drove us both to near orgasmic bliss. The inch thick chocolate brownies sandwiched a layer of vanilla ice-cream topped with a think fudge sauce that was to die for. I didn’t even want to think about the number of calories these monuments to decadence contained. I’ll deal with that shit later during my workout in the morning. For now, I planned on enjoying my desert and the surprise I planned for the real desert.

When David returned to take away our empty desert plates he smiled and asked if there would be anything else. Now was the time to strike. I just had to hold off our departure for a few more minutes. “Thank you, David. Just two cups of hot tea and the check please?”

David smiled. “Of course, Miss McGuire. Be right back.”

Kelly gave me a strange look at ordering the tea but didn’t say anything. I think that she thought I would just ask for the bill and be leaving. I reached into my purse and pulled out the box. I kept the hand with the box below the top of the table. I reached over and took Kelly’s left hand then opened the box with my thumb under the table. I didn’t want her to see the ring until I was ready. My hands were shaking. My palms were sweaty. My breathing was rapped, and my hart was pounding hard enough to rupture my chest. For some reason I was more afraid of asking a four word question than driving a hundred-fifty miles per hour around an F1 track.

Clearing my throat, I licked my lips before looking Kelly in the eyes. “Permission has been ask. Permission has been granted. Promises have been exchanged. I think that I’ve proven myself worthy. Now I only have one last question to ask. Kelly Rose Ringwald will you give me the honor of being my wife? To spend the rest of our days together as one couple?”

I had tuned out the rest of the restaurant. The only person I saw or heard was Kelly. My world view had condensed down to just her shining face. A face that I have studied every chance I had. The dark auburn shoulder length hair that felt in gentle waves around her face. The pale skin with freckles running across her nose spoke to her Irish heritage. I held my breath as her right hand came up to cover her slightly gapping mouth. I watched as the first tears filled her crystal green eyes. I don’t know if she was sad or happy right now. I didn’t know what she was going to say. I raised the box with the ring showing from under the table and her eyes locked on to the ring before raising to meet my own.

Those clear green crystal eyes that held so much of my future. Those eyes held more than just my future. All my hopes and dreams resided there in those eyes. Those clear crystal green Irish eyes. Eyes that have been there after ever operation, every chemo treatment, every time I needed someone to talk with that won’t judge me. Eyes that accepted me for all of my faults along with all of my, strengths. Eyes that never judge me when I pushed my car to and sometimes past its limits. Eyes that gave me hope for a real life after the cancer. I have loved Kelly for as long as I could remember.

“Yes.” That one word answer had me screaming for joy at the top of my lungs. I slipped the ring onto her finger before standing up and pulling her into a rib cracking hug. Kelly just threw her head back laughing as I spun her around. I wish that I had kept a little better attention to my surroundings. More than one smartphone was recording my proposal and Kelly’s reaction. Within hours it would be all-over the Internet. Not that I really cared. I knew that it won’t be long before the newshounds found out about our engagement. As it was, we’ve spent more time than I care to admit to at dodging the Paparazzi over the last few weeks.

David and the maître d’ brought our check over to us along with a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. With great flourish the maître d’ tore up our dinner check. “Ladies it seems that you have been able to surprise our staff with a truly joyous occasion. In honor of this your meals are on the house. Please accept this bottle of alcohol free wine to help celebrate. Complements of the management and staff. We wish the best of luck, Ladies.”

I reached over and opened my wallet pulling out the four one-hundred dollar bills inside for emergency. I hand them over to David with a smile. “Split this among the house staff. Both front of the house and back David. Please?”

“Of course, Miss McGuire. Thank you and Miss Ringwald best of luck.” David smiled as he folded the bills and put them into his apron.

Before I could thank him there was a blinding flash of light from outside the front of the restaurant. One of the valets ran into the restaurant yelling at the top of his lungs. “CALL NINE-ONE-ONE! SOME KIDS JUST THREW A BUNCH OF FIREBOMBS INTO THE PARKING LOT. WE NEED POLICE AND FIRE BOTH!”

The thought of oh shit not good ran through my mind as the valet continued to yell. “WE GOT FIVE CARS ON FIRE! MOVE IT GRAY! WE GOT A FULL BLOWN MESS ON OUR HANDS OUT THERE! I DON’T KNOW WHAT WAS IN THOSE BOTTLES BUT IT’S SPREADING FAST AND IT’LL SOON BE OUT OF CONTROL!”

The maître d’ ran to the reservation desk and began calling 911. The back of house staff ran outside with portable fire extinguishers. Kelly and I looked at each other and ran for the parking lot. I was praying that I wouldn’t see what I knew that I would. As we exited the building, we weren’t the only ones. There in the parking lot were five cars on fire. Of those five cars one of them was a very distinctive 1969 blueberry black Pontiac GTO J model. It had the misfortune of being the one in the middle. The other four cars were all very high-end luxury cars. Two BMWs, an Audi, and a Rolls-Royce. The bad part was the fire was spreading. I know whose car was the target for this attack. It was sure wasn’t the high-end luxury cars.

I also knew who was behind the attack. And most important of all, why. Kelly saw the look in my eyes. “We don’t know for sure they did this Bobbie.”

“Bullshit! We know it was them, Kelly. Those thugs went after my car. Because they couldn’t beat me in a straight up race.” I snarled and turned to where I heard the sounds of sirens. “They won’t be here in time to save that row of cars. I’ll give you long odds that whatever was used to fill those firebombs will spread like wildfire the second water hits it.”

“Excuse me young lady, but did you just say that you know who and why this fire was set?” I turned to face the man that had just asked me that question. At my questioning look he introduced himself. “Lieutenant Detective Paul Hagan, Darlington PD. Major Crimes division.”

“Yes, sir I did say that. Why should the DPD Major Crimes care? You know who they are already. Hell, the whole damned police department knows who did this.” I was blunt as could be with the man. I knew that the police won’t do a damned thing to the wrestling or basketball teams from my school.

“I don’t know what you believe about the DPD, but in Major Crimes we treat every crime and suspect the same.” The detective growled at me. “NOW, do you or don’t, know who might have done this?”

“The who is simple. It was either the wrestling or basketball team members, maybe even both, from my old high school. Just go park in front of Beauregard Smith High School and you’ll find them. As for the why. I was the one that was the cause behind their teams being disbanded at BSH.” I gave him a sideways look. “They did this out of revenge. I bet that when the arson investigator gets done. He’ll have found that at least three of those firebombs were thrown directly at my car. The Pontiac GTO J model.”

“By the way Detective. Just what were you doing here? If you’re going to question my fiancée then I’m going to question you.” Kelly snapped. “That is if you’re really a Detective. You haven’t shown us any kind of badge.”

I had to give it to Kelly. I was so pissed off over the attack on my car. That I didn’t think to ask for ID. To say that I was surprised by the man pulling out the all to familiar bifold wallet is an understatement. There it was the gold shield of a lieutenant detective. He flipped the shield out of the way to show his credentials. The name, rank, and picture all lined up with the man holding them. I really was dealing with Paul Hagan of Major Crimes. In short, I had to answer his questions. I didn’t need the bad press.

“Thank you, Detective.” Kelly said politely. “Sorry for the attitude. We’ve just gotten a lot of trash from a few of your fellow officers.”

“No need to apologize young lady, I was there when Miss McGuire proposed. I even have it on video. I can see why you would be pissed off right now, and I don’t blame you. As for some of my fellow officers and their attitudes, I can only say report them. I wish there was more that you could do but that is the best solution right for now. Let our IA division handle them.” About that time the Fire Department showed. I watched as the firefighters jumped off the trucks and went to work. It was taking everything I had to remain calm and not go storming off into the night.

Not that I was going anywhere. My car was a flaming wreck right now. “Miss McGuire, you said that this was done as some sort of revenge. Would you care to explain further please? I need to be able to hand, as complete, a report to the assigned case detective. If you can give us a place to start it will help us get a major jump on the case.”

I explained to the detective what I had heard from Joey. I figured that there was no harm in telling the man the truth. When I got to the part about how the former teams blamed me for their misfortune, I could tell that he was pissed. He questioned me about my involvement with the firing of the two Coaches. When I told him that I had no direct involvement he became suspicious. I had to go over how they had brought down the wrath of the school board, all on their own, at the emergency school broad meeting.

“Excuse me Miss McGuire. Are you saying that this is a situation where certain members of your former school are trying to blackmail you and the company that you represent into employing them?”

“That is exactly what she is telling you, detective.” Kelly snapped. “Those thugs tried to force Roberta to allow them to try out for her pit crews. BEFORE she even formed her teams.”

“Excuse me Miss Ringwald. But what does Miss McGuire’s pit crews have to do with this them being disbanded? No offence young lady, but I don’t see the connection. MDRI is a private corporation after all.”

“It’s because I set standards that none of them could meet, sir. Their Coaches tried to use the schoolboard to force my parents into accepting their members as candidates for the pit crews. When their Coaches were fired for their attitudes the two teams came under scrutiny. Scrutiny that none of them could withstand. To the point that the two teams were disbanded.” I figured that the more information I gave Hagan the more ammunition that he would have when it came time to haul the assholes before a judge.

Not that I was going to give him a chance to bring them in. Once I got away from him, I was making a phone call. Slow Jake and the Knights needed to know what happened here tonight. One way or the other whoever did was going down. It would be street justice in its simplest of forms. If he really did have the Knights reaching to the other clubs in the area. Then the thugs that pulled this shit were in for a REALLY bad night.

“Just one more question and I’ll let you ladies go. You said that the Coaches for the two teams were fired at an emergency meeting of the schoolboard. Do either one of you happen to knew what was said at that meeting? Or what the actual actions were of the two Coaches that led to their dismissal?” This was a topic that I so didn’t want to get into. At least not with a cop.

“No sir. Neither of us was at that meeting. I’m sure that there are recordings or minutes, something for the official record though. I mean with all the hoopla that came down after the meeting there has to be more than one person who knows what on.” I figured I needed to throw him off my heels long enough to make my phone call to Slow Jake. “I know who you can call. My parents. They were there along with our company lawyers, Dewy, Cheatem, and Howe. I bet that at least one of our lawyers had their secretary with them taking notes. I know that the next morning when we were selecting my pit crews, they had a secretary there just for that very reason.”

“Thank you, Miss McGuire. You’ve given us a lot of information that we can work on. Do you mind if I listen as you call your parents. I figure that I can smooth things over for you when you contact them.” I wanted to scream. The man must be either a mind reader or I had been talking out loud about my plans to call Slow Jake and the Knights.

I hit the speed dial on my phone for mom. When it went straight to voice mail I hung up and tried dad. Again, I got the voice mail. This was not good. I tried the house phone next and got the answering machine. I was starting to panic. Something was serious fucking wrong. “Fuck. Kelly try your parents. They’re at home tonight.”

While she called home. I tried one last number, Beth’s. This time I got through. “Beth! Have you heard from mom and dad?’ ‘What do you mean they’re with you and Tony?’ ‘Fuck me! You mean to tell me that they nailed you too?’ ‘How come mom and dad aren’t picking up their phones?’ ‘Oh, that makes sense.’ ‘Yah, they firebombed my car and a few others over here at the Garden. Beth, my Judge is totaled.’ ‘You said that mom and dad were with you?’ ‘Yah, I’m going to need a tow. If the police release my car. I think they’re going to use it for evidence.’”

“Excuse me Mis McGuire, but from the sounds of it your sister’s car was attacked as well. Is that true?” I nodded my head yes. “Okay, this is what will most likely happen. The arson investigator will take swabs, pictures, and sketches. Because your car isn’t one of the more valuable ones. He will most likely turn it loose tonight. It may have been the primary target, but the value just isn’t there to make this a major felony on its own. Now the other four cars throw this into the range of racketeering and Major crimes.”

“What do you mean my car doesn’t have the value of the other cars? You got something against Class American Muscle cars Detective?” I snarled. “I’ll have you know that my car is insured for seventy-five grand. Unlike those imports that are at best insurable for fifty.”

“I got nothing against the Classics Miss McGuire. I just know that for the purposes of a Criminal Investigation the other four cars hold a greater impact because of their year, model, and maker.” As much as I wanted to argue the point, he was right. “Besides, if I keep your car under the twenty grand mark, you can pick it up as soon as the fire is out, and the arson investigator completes his onsite investigation.”

I wanted to laugh at hearing this. I would be getting my car back tonight. I went back to my phone call with Beth. “Beth, I’m here with a detective from the Major Crimes Unit. I got a feeling he’ll be wanting to talk with you and Tony. Where are you guys at?’ ‘Billy’s Big Barn. Got it. How many other cars got caught in the crossfire over there?’ ‘Only two? When did they hit you?’ ‘An hour ago. Shit they must have spotted your car before mine.’ ‘Yah, I kind of figured that out myself. It has to be the wrestling and basketball teams. They’re the only ones that we got any real beef with.’ ‘What did mom say, Beth?’ ‘Okay, I’ll call Slow Jakes for the tow. Alright talk to you when we get home.”

I disconnected and put my phone away. I turned to watch as the fire department used the foam instead of water. At first, I was surprised by this until the Fire Captain walked over to us. “Sorry, about using the foam Miss. It’s just that we had another firebombing like this earlier this evening. We learned the hard way to not use water. Whoever is behind these attacks used a mix of diesel oil, soup powder, and KY jelly. In short, a poor man’s napalm.”

“Thank you, sir. I already know about the other firebomb attack. It was over at Billy’s Big Barn. The car belonged to my sister.” I was fighting both my anger and tears over the attack on my car. It was just a possession, but I had put my blood, sweat, and tears into that car. It was my pride and joy. I don’t care what that detective does. I’ll get my own justice.

Hagan had been off to one side talking with someone on his cellphone. He walked up to me as the Fire Captain walked away. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be the one handling the investigations here and over at Billy’s Big Barn, Miss McGuire. The Fire Captain will be the one to release the scene once his arson investigator gets done. I got the criminal side of the investigation. Any idea of where I should start looking for ‘friends.’”

I could hear the air quotes in the man’s voice. I just had to chuckle. “If really you want to find those two packs of thugs? I would start by looking for them over at Captain T’s Fish Fry on Eighteenth. After that just go park out by BS High and wait. They’ll show up sometime around or after midnight with a Pony or full Keg on ice ready to be tapped.”

“Damn. You must really hate those guys to know that much about them. Whatever did they do to get this kind of raise out of you Miss?” I tossed my answer over my shoulder as I walked off.

“They fucked with my car once before.” I pulled my cellphone out of my purse once I was away from him. I dialed Slow Jack’s Garage. The phone was answered on the fourth ring. “Hello is this Slow Jack’s?”

“Who’s calling?” the voice was gruff as it was to the point.

“Jack it is me, Bobbie McGuire. Who do you use for towing?” I was hoping he has his own tow truck.

“I have my own towing service, Miss McGuire. Why are you asking?”

“Just call me Bobbie, Jack. We’re passed the point of formality. Any way the reason I called is not a good one. They hit mine and my sister’s cars tonight, Jack. Full burn jobs on both. My parents are over picking up her car as we speak. I’m over at the Garden. Any chance of you picking up my car?” I was hoping like hell Jack would be the only one to show up with the tow truck.

“Fuck. Did you get a look at who blasted your car, Bobbie?”

“Nope. Didn’t need to anyway. We both know who did it, why, and best of all where to find them later on tonight.” I growled out as I fought to keep control of my rage. I wanted my revenge tonight.

“Don’t worry Bobbie. They stepped over the fucking line this time. You and your gal just sit tight. I’m on my way with my truck. You call you parents and tell them to bring your sister’s car to my shop. Don’t worry someone will be there to meet them. I think you know the young lady I’m talking about. As for taking care of the wrestling and basketball thugs, leave that alone.”

“Not happening Jack. Once I get mobile again, I’m going after those fucks.” I snarled. “THEY were the ones to came after me. I was willing to let all that bullshit go, but they just won’t let it go. They’re the ones that wanted this little fucking feud. They just haven’t figured out yet that I won’t be playing by their mother fucking rules.”

“Don’t get stupid, McGuire!” Jack snapped over the phone. I don’t know what it was but there was something in his angry voice that made me stop my ranting. “Look, kid. You got way too much to lose right now. You just sit back and let the clubs handle this shit.”

“What do you mean clubs Jack? I thought there was only the Knights in town.” I heard the sounds of a truck door closing and a diesel engine firing over. I figure Jack had either still been dressed or he had just gotten home for him to be able to get to his truck that quick. “Just how many clubs are there now? I know that I haven’t been out of the loop that long.”

The sounds of truck gears being shifted could be just barely be heard over Jack’s chuckle. “Bobbie, I hate to tell you this, but you’re so far out of the loop, it’s not even funny. Do you know that none of the local street racers know that you used to race on these streets? With the exception of the Knights, you’re this mythical professional driver that came out of nowhere. You’re what my guys and gals dream of becoming.”

“Damn. I really have been out of the loop if that’s how they see me.” I was too embarrassed to say much more than that.

“No shit Bobbie. It’s because of what you did for my guys that started something I never got into when you stopped by the shop.”

“Hey, Jack can we continue this in your truck after you pick mine up? My dad is calling me on the other line.” It was the truth, dad really was trying to get ahold of me. Not because this discussion was embarrassing me.

“Not a problem Bobbie. I’ll be there in about twenty to thirty minutes. I got the yellows running and I should be able to get clearance for emergency status from the Center. Once I call in for it. See you later.”

The phone went dead, my hand picked up the call from dad. “Hi, dad.”

“Where are you and Kelly right now?” dad demanded.

“We’re standing in the parking lot of the Garden. Before you ask, the answer is yes. They must have hit it with three firebombs, if not more. It’s a total burn job, dad. I already called Slow Jack for the tow.” The anger in my voice must have alerted dad to something. Because he jumped all over my shit.

“Don’t go getting stupid Roberta! We don’t have proof that the old teams did this shit! I don’t care what else happens you let the cops handle this.”

“I already gave my report to the DPD. Dad have you talked with a Lieutenant Detective Hagan from Major Crimes yet? He should be there by now?” I had watched as the detective left while I was on the phone to Jack.

“Beth and Tony are talking to the man as we speak. He told us about the damage to your car. I just wanted to find out if it was as bad as he described. You said that you could get Jack Salon to tow you in?”

“Yeah dad. He’s already on his way here. He also told me to tell you to bring Beth’s car to his place. I got the very distinct feeling that he is the only one in town that will be willing to touch our cars.” I chuckled as I remembered the conversation that I had with Sam yesterday. “Say dad have you talked with Joey lately?”

“What about kiddo?”

“The number of Car Clubs in town.” I figured that I would be as vague as possible on the topic. No need to make dad suspicious.

“Bobbie, if you’re wondering about the number of street racer clubs in town forget about them. That number will bounce around until the day Darlington gets hit by a nuke. Sure, there’s six clubs in town. But THAT’S right now. In six months to a year most of those clubs will be gone. It happens every time someone from Darlington gets a pro ride.”

I got to thinking about what dad was saying. “Look don’t worry about those clubs, kiddo. I remember when the Darlington Knights first formed. You weren’t even born yet. It was all because of Dan Knight. A local racer that made it into the Bush League of NASCAR. He only ran two races before he lost his ride. His main sponsor was a car dealership that got busted for laundering money for the Cartels. More than a couple of drivers lost their rides that year because of that same reason.”

“Damn. Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t common knowledge dad?” I wanted to know because I never heard about it. I mean this type of scandal should have been all over the history sites.

“The French Family along with Bush Beer, and Winston spent a shit ton of money to cover it up. The major networks went along with it too, because there was way too much money at stake in Television contracts. You got to remember Bobbie that during that time auto racing was one of the fastest growing sports in the world. That includes Formula One, NASCAR, and Indy.”

“Wow! I never thought about the money that goes through those contracts.” The more that I thought about it, the more I realized there was just way too much that I didn’t know about the sport I participated in. I wonder if the F1A commission were to get it into their heads, they could run me out of the circuit, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. The sound of a diesel engine entering the parking lot drew my attention. I looked down at my watch and realized that dad had been talking with me for the last twenty-five minutes. “Dad I got to go. Slow Jake just pulled into the parking lot.”

“Go handle your business, baby girl. We’ll meet you and Kelly over at Jack’s place. Don’t worry Bobbie. We’ll get your cars repaired. I won’t let the insurance goons write them off as nonrecoverable. Totaled but not scrap.”

“Thanks dad. I’ll see as soon as Jack can get the Judge loaded and we can get back to his place. Oh, he said that his daughter Stephany will meet you all at his garage. Keep Joey away from her, dad. She’s too good for him.” I heard my dad start laughing just before he hung up the phone.

I felt Kelly wrap her arms around me. “It’ll all work out, baby. Don’t worry. I know that the between the cops and the Darlington Knights. Those thugs don’t have a chance in hell. I’ll give you dollars to peanuts that by tomorrow morning every member involved in the attack on your car is behind bars. That or wishing they were, because the Knights got to them first.”

I gave my fiancée a sly smile. “I got a twenty that says the Darlington Knights not only find them first, but get them to confess long before they ever see the cops. You game?”

“Nope. Not taking that sucker’s bet.” Kelly hugged me tight as Jack climbed down out of his truck. “I know for a fact that racers take getting their car totaled like this very badly. I figure that if Slow Jack is here. Then out there somewhere in the night is every last member of the Knights. I should say those that are aren’t working. The basketball and wrestling thugs are in for a really fucked up night.”

Jack walked up to me and held out his hand. “Sorry about this Bobbie. We knew that they were gunning for you. But we didn’t see this coming. We should have stopped them last week. Long before this got out of hand.”

“Don’t worry about Jack. Just answer me one question. How many clubs are there now in Darlington? You know what I’m talking about.” I really wanted to know now that my interest has been peaked.

“Currently there eight car clubs in Darlington County.” At my stunned look Jack chuckle. “Yup, you heard right. Eight total clubs. We got the Darlington Knights, Dovesville Rangers, Hartsville Hunters, Pine Cross Ridge runners, the Darlington Ladies in Black our only all-female club, North Hartsville Raiders, Earlwood Bowmen, and the Ross Lee Bombers.” Jack got a thoughtful look on his face. “Yup that’s all of them. The cars clubs cover most of the county now. We got a lot of good kids in the clubs. The really nice thing is, the other clubs have all based their charters on ours.”

“Thanks Jack. I was wondering about something that Sam said earlier today and my dad told just a few minutes ago on the phone.” I looked over at my destroyed car and sighed. “Tell me the truth Jack. Can you bring her back to life or is she going to be good only for parts?”

“Let me get her back to my shop Bobbie. I’ll call you in the morning. But I can tell you this much.” He threw back to me over his shoulder as he walked towards my car. “It’s a good fucking thing that the cops are looking for whoever did this, and they had better find them first. Because if the Knights or any of the other clubs sees what they did to your car. They’ll never reach the fucking courtroom in one piece or without broken bones.” Talk about having fans.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One race cars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 19
Friday afternoon, Baku, Azerbaijan

Even as my thrown helmet slams into the side of the cargo hauler my scream echoes off the walls of the garage area. Chiefs Hail and Marks both look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Kelly, just shakes her head and sighs while mom and dad give me worried looks. The rest of the team just let me bitch and hell getting the frustration out of my system. Not that they blamed me for being pissed off after the way I’ve performed for the past few days.

“ROBERTA LEE MCGUIRE!” Mom yelled at me once I finally calmed down enough to be reasonable. “Care to explain to your father and me just what the hell that was all about? What’s got you so pissed?”

“Sorry, momma.” I let my head drop and sighed. “I’ve been out there for every practice run. Each time the car has handled like it was driving over marbles. It’s either too loose or too tight in the fucking turns. It handles like grandma’s caddie on the straightaways. For some reason the car went from a beautiful handling piece of engineering to a total piece of shit.” The scream that ripped from my throat was one of pure frustration.

“I should be out there tearing great big chunks out gne that course. Then eating those chunks, shitting brass trophies and pissing Champagne showers. Instead I’m fighting the car at every turn and on each straightaway. I would be better off with my Judge out there!” There it was out in the open. What was really pissing me off and throwing off my timing. Jake had given me the bad news Tuesday morning before we left South Carolina. My beloved Pontiac GTO was nonrecoverable.

Whatever those thugs had used to set the fires had a chemical compound that burned hot enough to fuck up the frame. The arson investigator said it wasn’t gasoline and alcohol in a glass with rag stuffed down the neck alone. Someone had gotten high-tech with those Molotov cocktail. They had found of the formula for one of the original mixes. One that was designed to destroy tanks.

Well the mix certainly destroyed mine and Beth’s cars. After Jack and the guys over at his garage went over them with a fine toothed comb the verdict was in, totaled, nonrecoverable. Beth’s Charger was little more than a parts car now. As for my custom restored GTO not even the Gods of car restoration could save her.

The engine block was cracked, and the transmission housing had spilt. I won’t even go into what the heat did to the gears. The frame had twisted while the heat crystallized the metal. The unknown element in the mix had caused massive fracturing of the rubber and plastic components. As for the few computer components they were turned into slag. The only saving grace for me was the NOS tank didn’t blow. If it had gone, I figure the rear end of my car would have landed in Myrtle Beach.

The Insurance Agent called the next morning as we were boarding the plane. I was more than a little surprised when he told us that he would be writing checks for the full on the policies. I figured that he would have done all he could to weasel out of paying a penny. I still think that Jack and Knights had something to do with getting the man to pull out the checkbook.

I was brought back to the here and now by mom. “Honey, just tell us what you need out there to make the car work for you. Remember we got two of the best Crew Chiefs in the business.”

“Set the car up like my Judge. Can you do that? No, you can’t. The Marshals will find something to bitch about. I won’t break the rules mom. Not even to get a decent running car.” I snapped.

“You remember the specs Bobbie?” Chief Marks asked. I gave him a look that could kill. Of course, I remembered the specs. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t used them on a Formula One racer. “Before you go thinking we can’t use the specs for your GTO don’t.”

“Okay, why?” I almost demanded. “My GTO is a totally different style of car. There is no way you can put my GTO’s setup on that car over there. If you could have done that. I would have had you do it weeks ago. I mean fuck Chief. I could have gotten more than twice the performance out of the car.”

“Bobbie, if you want that car to handle like your GTO, a Mustang Cobra just tell us, kiddo.” Chief Hailee threw his hands in the air. “Fuck! We don’t care what those factory cocksuckers want. We want you and Beth safe out there. Just tell us how to setup the cars. We’ll set them up how YOU want. This isn’t some crazy assed idea for us Bobbie.” Chief Hailee puffed out his chest and a in deep gravelly voice shouted. “This is MRDI!”

The stupid Spartans reference was just the thing I needed to break me out of my shitty mood. I started to giggle then laugh out load. Chief Hailee’s act of silliness brook the tension that had been hanging over the pit area. “Okay, Chief Hailee.”

“Good. Now talk to us Bobbie. What do we need to do to get that car just right? I don’t mean what the Marshals want but what you want. More down force on the nose, tighten it for the turns. What?” Chief Marks asked me with a smile.

“I don’t know about Beth. But if we set the car up as close to a street racer as we can get away with. I just might be able to do something with it out there. I won’t promise you anything though.” I had to be honest with them both. I knew that you can only do so much with the suspension of an F1 without a total rebuild.

“I agree with Bobbie. Give me anything you can as close too my Charger’s suspension and aero package. I’ll be happy.” Beth told them with a happier look in her eyes.

The two Crew Chiefs turned away from us and began barking orders. Four guys and two girls from the pit crews ran to push our cars over to the garage area. The rest were running around grabbing tools as they were called for. Beth and I were pushed out of the way as our pit crews went to work. I watched as the two Crew Chiefs broke out their laptops and began going over the aerodynamic specs for the two cars.

“Bobbie, Beth, could you girls join us in the trailer?” Mom called.

Not knowing what the rents wanted Beth and I joined them in the car hauler. Inside we found Karl Benz, and Wilhelm Maybach. The two owners of Mercedes-Benz both with worried looks. I knew that something was up and it smelled shitty. Benz could tell that I knew they had bad news for us. I will give the man this much. He didn’t send some flunky to do his dirty work.

“Fräulein McGuire, it has come to our attention that you are currently in an inappropriate relationship with one of your crew members. Is this accusation true?” I blinked at the man and cocked my head trying to figure out what he was talking about. “Is it true that you and the lovely Fräulein Ringwald are engaged?”

“Um… yes sir. May I know why that is a concern for your company sir? After all this is a privet matter.” I thought I had the man dead to rights. That was one of the conditions in my contract. So long as I didn’t make an ass of myself in the papers and lived my public life as a woman, they stayed out of my privet life.

“Congratulations!” They both yelled at the same time. I was sure they were here to fire me or something. They both began shacking my hand, with Karl Benz saying for the both of them. “When is the happy occasion? There are plans must be made. All the little details that young ladies love for their weddings.”

I blinked shook my head and gave the two men a look of confusion. “Okay. I thought you were here to fire me.”

Both men chuckled. Maybach placed his hand on my shoulder. “Not hardly, Fräulein McGuire. Why if we were to do such a thing? Our Fräus would kill the both of us. We were merely verifying our facts. This way all of Mercedes-Benz can take part in your wedding. You and your family are now a part of the Mercedes-Benz corporate family. We wish to help you lovely young ladies celebrate.”

The minute I heard that the Mercedes-Benz owners wanted to help with our wedding I know I had a problem. Especially if Kelly ever found out. I think she would cut my last remaining vestige of manhood off at the base. I knew that if I didn’t get ahead of this, I would be a dead man by nightfall.

“Herr Benz, and Herr Maybach, please before we start getting ahead of ourselves, I really need to talk with Kelly.” I told them holding up my hands. “If you thought that your wives would blow their tops with you. Then you have never dealt with a Southern Bell who has dreamed about her wedding from the time she was six.”

Beth jumped in on my defense. Only she was waving her arms over her head and acting a fool. “Good lord! You want to take over the planning of Kelly and Bobbie’s wedding?! ARE YOU NUTS? Our Civil War was fought over less dangerous subjects. Do you realize what would happen? You would cause global flooding, earthquakes, typhoons, volcanic eruptions, plagues of biblical proportions, all manner of untold disasters. And that gentlemen is just dealing with her. I won’t even go into what would happen when her mother gets involved. Why the very Saints, and Angles would weep at the sheer volume of disasters. I won’t even talk about the dangers of not dealing with two mothers of the brides. Not even the holocaust could match the total death count that mistake would bring about. The sheer blood letting would overflow the banks of the Shenandoah River. The gods of racing and engineering would descend upon us leveling all manner of curses.”

Mom just glared at Beth the whole time. Me and dad just started laughing at her from the start. Right along with all the other people in the trailer. The harder we all laughed at her the more Beth hammed it up. She let her smartass bone shine for the enjoyment of all those present. It took us all a good ten minutes to regain our professional composure.

Not that I was feeling too professional right now. My mind kept going back to how I was going to tell Kelly that my corporate sponsor want to get in on our wedding. How they wanted to used it as a promotional gig for their cars somehow. I could see it now. They would have us coming out of our wedding and climbing into a Mercedes-Benz limo to head off for our honeymoon. Thankfully I was rescued by my mother.

“Gentlemen as much as it would delight us. We cannot in good conscience allow your company to plan any part of the girls’ wedding. If only to save the peace and harmony of our family.” The lie that mom told the corporate suites was a whopper. A diplomatic whopper, but a whopper none the less.

“But Frau McGuire, this is a momentous occasion for our company and yours. Please allow our corporate family to help celebrate the Fräuleins’ wedding.” Maybach almost pleaded. “We could use the wedding in our upcoming commercial for the new AMG GT-C Roadster. Which will be a gift to replace both of the destroyed cars that once belonged to the girls.”

“And that is why you’re not going to help plan our wedding.” I growled out. “This is a privet matter. I will not allow ANY outside influence. That covers the paparazzi, and anyone else that wants to exploit my wedding. To include you.”

“We had hoped that we would not have to used this. There is a clause in your contract that would allow us to participate in the wedding. It falls under the ‘public image clause’.” Daimler said.

That was all I needed to hear to go from carefree teenage driver into full-blown bitch. “BACK OFF SHITHEADS! You do not want to go there. You do and you’ll be looking for a new driver!”

“She won’t be the only one that you’ll need to replace. I’ll be right behind her.” Beth snapped. “If you think we can’t get another ride. You’re sadly mistaken. I know of at least four NASCAR and three Indy car teams that’ll hire us in a second.”

The two men’s faces both turned white at the thought of losing the McGuire girls. The lose of that profitable team going out the door was not one they could stand. Not after the way the girls had been preforming so far this season. Two individual wins, and a team in first place with the prospect of more wins. The threat was one that they couldn’t ignore. Besides they knew that the McGuire girls never made idle threats.

Once again mom can to our rescue. “Gentlemen if I were you, I would back off. They are not in a good mood. Also, I doubt that your company could replace their cars. I doubt that anyone could.”

“Gentlemen, you have to understand that those two cars were special to our girls. They had poured their hearts and souls into those cars. Each one was customized to their individual style of driving. I know that Bobbie put more than forty-thousand dollars into her GTO. As for Beth, she financed sixty-thousand for her Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat. Which she has sense then paid off.” Dad told them with a shrug at their looks of confusion. “They love their cars fast and mean.”

“You better believe they do. I got more than a few looks under that GTO of Bobbie’s. That was one mean piece of Detroit steel. How she was ever able to get that monster to perform the way she did is beyond me. I can only say that I would need six months to figure out all of its secrets.” Chief Hailee cracked.

“Just six months? Give me a break Hailee. It would take you and me both working on that GTO at least a year to crack that car’s secrets. That Judge was a true beauty of engineering.” Chief Marks said with a smile. “The sad part is there is no way we can replace either the Judge or the Charge. No with what the insurance is going to pay. Not even if we combined the two payouts. That is how specialized the two cars were.”

“Are you saying that between the two cars their worth is over a hundred-thousand dollars? How can that be possible?” Maybach asked is shocked. The idea of American Muscle cars having as much value as one of their high end sedans didn’t make any sense.

“The GTO’s resorted worth was close to seventy-nine-thousand dollars. When you add in all of Bobbie’s little personal touches. It jumps to over one-hundred-twenty if not more.” Chief Hailee began listing off the value of the two cars. “Then there is Beth’s Charger. Blue Book value alone on it was fifty-five-thousand. That doesn’t include her personal touches that would bring the value to well over eighty-five-thousand.”

“Mein Gott! I never realized the value in street cars such as the ones belonging to your daughters.” Daimler said bluntly to mom.

“That is just the dollar value Herr Daimler. It doesn’t even bring in the emotional value of those cars. Both of those cars were something very important to American teenagers. They were they’re the first cars ever bought with their own money.” Mom told Daimler with a sad smile.

The two men walked out of the trailer talking in hushed tones. I turned to mom. “Thanks for putting a stop to them interfering Kelly and mine’s wedding plans mom.”

“Not a problem dear. Your father and I know about your feelings on a lot of the publicity. There is no way in hell that we were going to let Mercedes-Benz use your special day in a publicity stunt.” Mom pulled me tight into her hug. “Sorry about not getting them to replace your cars though.”

“Don’t worry about it, mom. This is one time that I doubt anyone can find a replacement for my Judge. We can always go back to Dodge for a new Charger for Beth. I’ll just have to take my time and find me a new car at the end of the season.” I figured that it would be best to be honest with my parents.

“She’s right mom. Pete Love Dodge over in Florence called me just before we left. They offered to replace my Charger with a brand new one already. All I got to do is drop their name in an interview or something like that.” Beth giggled. “Just because I drive for Daimler doesn’t mean I have to own a Mercedes-Benz.”

“Okay kids, we’ll let you handle this your way.” Dad said jumping in ahead of mom. “Right now, we got one more practice run for today. You both need to get your heads in the game. I want your best runs out there. Really push the cars to their limits. Got it? No holding back. Especially you Bobbie.”

“What does that mean? I never hold back.” I glared at dad.

“Bobbie you’ve been holding back for the last two days. I know that the car hasn’t been up to your normal standards. But you should have been able to pull more out of that setup than you have. I know that the lose of your Judge has been bugging you. To the point that it has become a deadly distraction. Which is something that I won’t have out there. Am I understood?” Dad demanded with none of the fatherly disappointment bullshit.

“I got it dad. Sorry about letting what happened to my car get to me. It’s just that, well…” I paused and sighed. “I spent so much time, sweat, and money on that car. To just have it taken away like that pisses me off. The fucked part is those fuck-nuts won’t be facing a judge anytime soon. I mean their parents were pushing to get them out on bail before we even got on the plane.”

“Which they didn’t get.” I turned around to see Mister. Dewey of our lawyers standing there. “The D.A. made sure that none of them got out, Bobbie. Not that it will matter. The charges are heavy enough to warrant a special interest investigation into the activities of the two teams.”

“How does what they did in the past effect what will happen now?” Mom asked Mr. Dewey then smiled. “And why are you here? You could have just called us with this information.”

“One. This is information that cannot be trusted to the phone network. Two. I was given a court order to deliver this information personally. Three and most importantly. It’s not often that I get a chance to see a Formula One race in person.” I chuckled at Mr. Dewey’s last reason for coming all this way.

“Okay Mr. Dewey, we’ll get you and your guests, tickets for the race. Please can you explain why the past for the two teams is so important? Everyone knows that they’re a bunch of dirtbags.” Beth told our lawyer with a smile.

“Several of the students and teachers at your old high school have come forward. Some of the stories that have been coming out have added to the list of charges against the main members of the two teams. Charges that have reached into the Federal range.” Dewey told us.

“Federal charges? What did they do? It’s not like bullying is a federal crime right now.” I countered.

“They hit the federal criminal level with extortion, racketeering, and blackmail. I won’t even go into how they were fixing certain games and meets with the sports bookies.” Dewey explained to my astonishment. “I know that sports betting isn’t legal in South Carolina but that still doesn’t keep it from happening.”

“Wait a minute here. How can there be any money in high school level wrestling and basketball?” I wondered aloud.

“Bobbie, there is more money bet at the local level on high school sports than people realize. I won’t even go into the amount of betting that goes on with racing. Namely yours.” Dewey told me.

“Um… I think I’m too far out of the loop to understand. Why would somebody bet on me? How can they even place a bet on an F-one race? I mean sure I can see them placing bets on a NASCAR race, but not an F-one race. Most people in South Carolina don’t follow the sport to begin with.” I countered.

“Bobbie, you and Beth are local heroes. You young ladies the newest rising stars for the great State of South Carolina. You would not believe the number of fans you two have. My office has been holding your fan mail for your girls for the past month. It has gotten so bad that we’re thinking of hiring a secretary just to handle your mail.” The more Dewey explained the more I wanted to just hide behind a bigger wall.

“Mister Dewey, go ahead and hire that secretary. Clear out your backlog and get back to handling your normal business.” I sighed. “I know that your firm has better things to handle.”

This time he just chuckled. “Bobbie, you, your sister, and MDRI as of right now are my only business. That is how important you and MDRI has become to our little law firm. That is one of the reasons I got on a redeye flight to be here today.”

“Sorry.” I gave him my best number ten puppy-eyes in apology.

“Forget it, Bobbie. Those eyes won’t work on me. I’m immune to them after raising my own daughter.” Mister Dewey just chuckled. “Back to the business at hand. As I was saying. The amount of money made by sports bookies is off the charts. Especially for the illegal ones. The members of those two teams were either shaving points or throwing matches. Just enough to remain in the top slots for their division but still make it interesting enough to get people to bet on the underdogs.”

“Damn. That’s just screwed up.” Beth snarked. “Let me guess. The bookies were paying the members enough to make it their while.”

“In more ways than just one I bet. Then when they have their teams disbanded, they lost their income. The bullying was just another way to make money by extortion of their fellow students.” I bitched. I was now even madder than when I came in off the course. I really needed to burn off this mad. “Chief Hailee is my car ready or do you need more time?”

He looked out at my car then turned back to me. “Give them ten more minutes to finish buttoning them up, Bobbie. The guys are putting the final touches on the rear end suspension as we talk.”

I turned to Mister Dewey. “Mr. Dewey, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to finish getting my car ready for the race.”

I left him and my parents to finish discussing the thugs that destroyed my baby. I wasn’t kidding about needing to finish getting my car ready for the race. I was already putting in my earbuds as I picked up my helmet and gloves. I knew that it was childish of me to just throw my helmet like that, but I had let my emotions get the better of me. With the ease born from practice I prepped for another practice run.

Kelly helped me into the cockpit of the car and strap in before giving me a quick kiss on the lips. Kelly whispered in my ear ‘good luck’ before handing me my helmet. I flipped the ignition switch and waited for Will Hackney to crank the starter. When the engine came to life, I once more felt the power of that demon of speed chained to my will. I revved the engine twice and even sitting still the car now felt different.

I keyed my mike. “Let’s go see what we got sis.”

“Right behind you Bobbie. Does your car feel different to you? I know that mine does. It’s like I’m behind the wheel of my Charger.”

“Mine feels the same way Beth. Only mine feels like the Judge. I think our pit crews took our suggestion and went whole hog with it. I won’t put it past them.” Letting out on the clutch and engaging the transmission I pulled. I feel a smile creep onto my lips as I exit pit road onto the course.

Even as I round turn two, I can feel the massive difference in the car. Unlike before I could start putting down the speed before exiting the turn. The car now handled like my GTO Judge in the twisting turns of the street course. As much as I want to go full throttle, I know that the streets won’t allow for it. There are just too many turns on this course for that kind of driving.

The 6km course was laid out in a designed by Hermann Tilke. It features 20 turns and ranges in width from 7.6m to 13m. The six kilometer, anti-clockwise layout of the circuit has been a bitch to figure out. The circuit starts adjacent to Azadliq Square, then loops around Government House before heading west along a 1 km straight to the Palace of the Shirvanshahs and Maiden Tower. Here, the track narrows to 7.6m with an uphill traversal. It circles around the Old City before opening up onto a 2.2km stretch along Neftchilar Avenue back towards the start/finish line. The circuit is the fastest street circuit in the world, with a top speed close to 360 km/h and the second longest circuit on the current F1 calendar behind the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium.

As I climbed the hill towards the castle and feel my pucker factor rise. The sudden narrowing of the course brings back memories of racing on the backroads and city streets of Darlington County. With each consecutive turn I feel the ass end of my car sliding, not much but enough to let me know it’s there. Even with the slightly loose feeling I love how the car is handling. As I exit the Old City area of the course and onto the 2.2km stretch along Neftchilar Avenue I open up the engine. The rush that I get from the sudden burst of speed is one that is all too familiar. I felt the same rush many times on route 151 or highway 52 back home.

I key my mike as I go for a second full lap. “She feels like she riding on rails Chief Hailee. The handling couldn’t be better.”

“Well, don’t give us or the car all the credit Speed. She’ll only handle like that for you. So, any extra performance you get out of her is all you Bobbie. How’d she handle on the straightaway?”

“Like a rocket sled on rails. I punched the throttle and she took off like a bat out of hell. She’s still a tad bit loose in the turns, but it’s nothing that I can handle. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that she handles better in the turns this with this setup. I don’t think there is anything else we can do to improve the car’s setup. What do you think Beth?”

“I hate to say it but Bobbie’s right Chief Hailee. We won’t be qualifying in the top ten but that won’t matter.” At the sound of Beth’s voice, I knew that she realized the same thing I had.

“What’s going on girls?” Chief Marks asked quickly while we were both just entering the Old City section of the course.

“This is going to be one time that we’re going to have to win on skill and timing.” I told them quickly. “I’ll explain back in the pit area. I’m bring her back in after I complete two more laps.”

“Negative on that Bobbie. We need you girls to stay out there. Try and push the cars as hard as you can.” Chief Marks asked of us. I knew what he wanted to really pushed the car to its limits through the turns and straightaways. I waited until I hit the 2.2km stretch along Neftchilar Avenue before turning up my tunes. As we hit the stretch the sounds of bells sounding filled my ears. I knew before the first notes of the song rang out what was coming. AC/DC’s classic Hell’s Bells.

The heavy driving beat of the drums, reverberating cords of the guitars, and the vortex of the vocals. All of it pulls me in hard enough to lose myself in the music. I take turn 1 with hard breaking and a snap to the wheel. I damned near pull a ninety degree drift through the turn. The short straightaway to turn 2 doesn’t give me enough time to build much speed. I take turn 2 at just above 30% of full throttle.

From there on the rest of the course is taken between 30% to 45% of full throttle. The only place that we can really open up the cars is on the 2.2km stretch along of Neftchilar Avenue. There we both don’t hold back until we reach turn 1. For the next eight laps Beth and I push the cars to their limits everywhere on the course. The more I’m out here the better I get a feel for the course. My I-pod plays two more songs from AC/DC. I hear Thunderstruck and Money Talks as I round the last turn before heading for the pits. And for the first time in eight days I’m finally in a great mood. I have a car that I can compete with.

As I pull onto pit road and head for our garage area, I hit the kill switch for the engine. I coast the rest of the way. Even as I pull to a stop I’m smiling behind my helmet. Chief Hailee is standing there with the guys and gals of my pit crew. I quickly release my safety harness then remove my helmet and gloves. Chief Hailee takes one look at my smiling face and knows that we have a wining car. He smiles at me and nods his head before turning to the pit crew. He begins patting each one on the back.

“Well done people. You did me and Chief Marks proud. You boys are turning into some damned fine mechanics. Some the best that I’ve seen in years.” He chuckled as he looked over the angry pack of teenage girls. “And you young ladies are fast becoming the some of the best aerodynamic engineers I’ve seen in years.”

“I agree with Chief Hailee kids. You managed to pull together and turn out two win worthy cars. All in less than two hours on top of that. What you did is close to impossible. Yet you took the challenge of your drivers and do the impossible.” Chief Marks told them with a smile. “I can only offer my own pitiful praises to those of Chief Hailee’s. Well done people.”

I raised my hands above my head, clapped, and cheered. “Way to go guys! I love the way that you got my car setup!”

“I agree with Bobbie. Great job on the cars, guys.” Beth said as she walked up wearing a smile close to mine. “Mine handles like my old Charger in the turns and on the straightaway.”

“Well, that’s what you asked for isn’t it?” Our four biggest former Cheerleaders Kathy, Cassy, Sherry, and Charlotte sang out. Causing us all to laugh at their antics. This wasn’t the first time those four had pulled a stunt like this. Whenever the pressure got to be too high in the pits during a race they would pullout one of their old cheer routines. The goofiness of them cheering me and Beth on would drive us to reach deeper inside. Deep enough to find that special something that made us the drivers we are.

I may not have started out looking to find my own privet cheer squad, but I found one anyway. What got me was the girls had taken to aerodynamic engineering and design with the same zeal that they took to cheerleading. It was that zeal that drove the rest of the girls in the pit crews to excel in their chosen fields. The guys were just as excited about their new fields of study. Gone was the normal nonstop talk about sports to be replace with talk of engine and transmission designs. Gone was Sports Illustrated in the hotel rooms to be replaced with Hot Rod, Car & Track, Street Speed, and Super Car. Both pit crews were going out of their way to learn all they could about high performance cars.

I was surprised to find college level text books on automotive design in Kelly’s suitcase. When I asked where she got the books my fiancée just smiled and winked at me. With her artistic skills and imagination, I know Kelly will make one hell of a design engineer. The question I have is who is teaching her. I swear that girl will be the death of me with all of her secrets. The only person that I could think of as being her teacher was mom.

Speaking of which she just walked over to a little group. “Alright people, let’s get the cars secured and this place locked up tight. We ALL have to be at the Sponsor’s dinner tonight. And by all, that means everybody. To include the pit crews.”

“Do we got to wear long sleeved dress shirts with nooses?” Tony wised cracked. Only to get a dirty look from mom. “Sorry.”

Mom gave him a forgiving smile which caused the other guys in the crews to chuckle. Danny Hailee nudged his elbow whispering. “Wimp”

“Enough you two.” Mom corrected them when Tony glared at Danny. “And yes. You gentlemen, will wear suit jackets, dress shirts, and ties. You will also be on your best behavior.” When the girls started to giggle mom glared. “Ladies don’t think you’re off the hook. It is dresses, hose, and high-heels tonight. I mean it.”

I just chuckled as the girls on my pit crews smiled at mom. They had been wanting to see one of the fancy dinners that Beth and I wear being constantly dragged to by our sponsors. I think that more than a few of them were starting to get a little jealous of us. Not that they would say anything in front of us. More than once they had told either Beth or me about wishing they could attend just one of the parties. Sure, I knew that the pit crews held their own parties but none of them matched what the sponsors put on for us drivers. I think that mom and dad had talked with someone from Mercedes-Benz about getting the pit crews into tonight’s party. Not that I minded.

Hell, no I wasn’t going to mind. For once I would have someone there that would be of my own age. They would also be a nice distraction from Kelly and me. I mean MDRI is the youngest pit crew age wise. Not to mention experience wise, but they were making up for that short-coming.

Mom turned to me and Kelly. “You two need to cleaned up and ready no later than six. Same with you two as well.” She said to Beth and Tony. “Our sponsors want a privet word with the four of you. Before you ask, I don’t know what it is about.”

“In other words, just shut up and deal. Is that it, mom?” Beth snarked. Then she turned to me holding up her left hand. When I saw the diamond ring, I knew that Tony had asked, and she said yes. “What do you want to bet it is about these?”

“Speaking of which. Where’s yours at Bobbie?” Tony asked quickly.

“Um… I don’t have one.” I blushed at this very embarrassing truth. Kelly tried to buy me one to match her own before we left. We went to all seven jewelry stores in Darlington. None had a match to the ring that I had given her. “We couldn’t find one to match.”

“Yeh, I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy topic Bobbie.” Tony apologized quickly. “If you couldn’t find one at home big deal. You got the whole world to find a matching ring now.”

I hadn’t thought about it that way. I know that Kelly really wants to get me a matching ring. We had spent our remaining time at home searching. Now, with the whole world to hunt for our matching set of rings. The choices were limitless. All we needed to do was look. I was sure that I could find our rings now.

“Thanks, Tony. By the way where did you get that beautiful ring on Beth’s hand? It sure as hell didn’t come from Darlington.”

Tony chuckled. “I found it when we were in Singapore. At this little specialty shop just off the strip on our second day there. The owner specialized in custom made jewelry. I gave him Beth’s ring size and went back two days later to pick it up.”

“Damn. I wish you had told me. I could’ve had our rings made at the same time. I wonder if there is some place like that at our next stop.” I got to think about now that I had a plan.

Barcelona, Spain was know for more than just their tourism and fashion industry. They are also the second largest precious metal manufactures in Spain, seventh for all of Europe. Mom had already announced that we would be going from here straight to Barcelona as soon as we could. She wanted to get some early practice runs on the Circuit de Catalunya for some reason.

“At least you didn’t have to face your mother when you asked for Kelly’s hand. I’ve faced down guys that were twenty to thirty pounds heavier in the ring during open matches that were less scary. Your dad was cool about it, hell he welcomed me with open arms. Saying it was an honor to have me in the family. I thought your mother was going to cut my balls off at first.” Tony shivered as he placed his arm over Beth’s shoulders. “Come on we got to get back to the hotel and get ready for tonight.”

With that we joined with the rest of the team as they headed back towards our hotel. As had become our practice we got a hotel as close to the race course as possible. Mostly for convenience but usually to keep Coach Hall off our asses we’d walk to and from the track area as a group. It helped to kept us in shape and gave us a little more exercise each day. The side benefit of keeping Coach Hall off our ass was just icing on the cake.

I smile at the Doorman as we approached our hotel. When we first arrived, he barely even gave us a glance. Now, he actually returns our smiles and greetings. I asked him why he was so cold on the first few days towards us earlier this morning. He chuckled at my question but answered anyway. All he saw in us was an invading army of typical teenagers. It wasn’t until he saw us in our team uniforms on the second day that he ask the desk clerk who we were. It seems that his little girl is a fan of me and Beth.

It was just a little after four-thirty by the time we had gotten back to our rooms. At twenty minutes tell six we walked into the reception hall of the hotel. I held Kelly’s hand as the corporate heads for Mercedes-Benz approached us. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The last time I laid eyes on Karl Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, Wilhelm Maybach, and Emil Jellinek all together like this was back when I signed my contract.

“Baby, why do I have the sudden feeling that our world is about to get turned upside down for some reason?”

“Don’t ask me, but you’re not the only one getting bad feeling.” Kelly whispered. “Where are the wives?”

That’s what was off. Where were their wives? They never went anywhere without them. Especially Karl Benz, and Emil Jellinek, those two never left their wives at home. This could only mean one thing. Their wives were with mom. This was not good.

“Fräuliens we have a problem. One that we hope you can help us with.” Daimler started off politely but quickly changed his tone at the look on my face. “For the last few years we have been trying to gain entry into NASCAR. With our assembly plants across the US we now qualify as a US Auto manufacturer. Thanks in most part to our rivals over at Toyota.”

“Okay, I can see that. Why now though? I mean the season has already started. You’ll be hard pressed to find a team to go with your cars midseason. Even Toyota had a bitch of a time getting the teams to pickup on their designs.” I told them.

“That is why we are not going to go with one of the major teams already associated with NASCAR. We plan to form our own team and introduce them at the beginning of next year.” Maybach answered me quickly in explanation. “Your mother and father have already been given the go ahead to design and build our cars. What we need are drivers. People who are young and energetic such as yourself.”

“Ja, someone that will bring the same kind of passion to Stockcar racing that you bring to Formula One. Someone that is unheard of yet has the needed skills to compete. Is there anyone that you or your sister know that fits the requirements?” Benz expanded the reasons further for coming to us.

Kelly squeezed my hand hard enough to look over at her. “The guys, baby. We know that more than a few of them know how to drive. Shit there are a half dozen that could fit their needs.”

I got to thinking about what Kelly was saying. She was right about one thing. There were a half dozen members of the Darlington Knights that could handle that type of driving. Sure, most of them were street racers with criminal records, but they could drive. I also had promised them that I would give them a shot. If they ever cleaned up their acts. Which surprisingly they have.

“I might know of a few drivers that can get the job done. I won’t promise you anything though gentlemen. A lot of these drivers have a juvenile criminal record.” I felt that I should point out this fact for the men who had given me my break. I figured that if I was honest now, they wouldn’t be going in with blinders on.

“We are well aware of this fact, Fräulein McGuire. We have sent our privet investigators ahead in search of such drivers. We have all read the investigators reports. What those reports did not tell us is who has the passion that we need or want for our newest racing venture. They are just dry facts and numbers. There is no meat to the bones. No real insight into the individual drivers’ personalities.” Daimler said with a passion bordering on insanity.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to vouch for how passionate a certain driver is? You’re joking right?” I figured that the suites had gone around the bend.

“We are deadly serious Fräulein. Und yes that is exactly what we need for you to do. We need fresh faces to compete with the established names and teams.” Jellinek grumbled as he looked me in the eye. “I would have preferred to use a known driver.”

“You were overrule Emile. The Ice Queens stay in Formula One. We will not have this discussion again.” Maybach snapped.

“Wait, Herr Jellinak wanted one of us to drive NASCAR? Then why didn’t you ask us first?” Beth snapped.

“It be honest Fräulein the reason is simple. Money.” At Jellinak’s one word answer all four of us gave the man a blank look. “Our company has spent an extremely large amount of Euros in the public image of this team. We cannot simply throw all of that away for one of you to go drive NASCAR. Your popularity among teenage girls and young women has out stripped our original projections. In short Fräuliens your fans would kill us if we let you just leave the sport right now.”

I thought about the Doorman for the hotel and his daughter. Then I thought about the kids back home and what Mister Dewey told me earlier that afternoon. I had already seen a few of the merchandise posters, and t-shirts that were being sold with either Beth’s or mine pictures on them. I won’t even go into the hats that were in our team colors with our individual numbers.

There has to be close to several thousands of dollars’ worth of that stuff flouting around. If not more. I mean I’ve seen the shit at every race so far. I never thought I would have this kind of impact on F1 this soon. Yet between me and Beth we have a massive fan base that would be cut in half if we were to transfer to NASCAR. I could see their point of view and conceded. There was just too much money and pride at stake to do something stupid.

“Chill Beth, they’re right. Just think about it. We jump ship for NASCAR now, or next year we would appear ungrateful to our fans. Fans that we have slowly been building in this sport. No, we need to turn this over to the guys back home. Who do you think would be the best choices?” Beth knew just as many street racers as I did. She also had a slightly better grasp on the local track talent pool than I probably did.

“I would start by looking at Thomas Hart and Johnny Foxx. They both have good instincts for feeling out a good race line.” It was obvious that Beth hadn’t heard about Thomas and Johnny. At my pained looked she asked. “What did I miss Bobbie?”

“They’re in Forest Glenn, Beth.” I whispered. “We need to pick someone else out of the Knights.”

“Excuse me, but what does this Forest Glenn have to do with the young men not being available?” Benz asked me.

“It’s a cemetery.” Kelly answered bluntly. “Both young men died trying to save someone else’s life.”

“We are sorry for the lose of your friends.” Benz apologized.

“Not your fault just the luck of the draw.” I sighed.

“Bobbie it wasn’t your fault. They knew what they were doing at the time.” Kelly whispered as she wrapped me in a hug. She knew how the deaths of those two young men had affect me. She looked over at the four suites and smiled. “Gentlemen might I suggest that we revisit this topic at some later date?”

“Of course, Fräulein. Please enjoy the evening.” With that they walked away leaving us to spend the rest of the evening with out teammates. I smiled as they entered the reception hall in pairs. Most were couples though a few were just there as friends. I had a feeling that it wouldn’t belong before there was more then a few engaged couples in pit crew. I wondered if that would be a bad thing. I mean love is supposed to conquer all right?

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 20
Monday morning, Day after the race, Baku City, Azerbaijan
As I stood next to Beth in the pits I had to smile. I know that we have pissed off more than a few drivers and their fans. Once again, first off, we took the third and fourth pole positions as if they were reserved for just us. Beth turned in a course scorching Qualifying time with me just one-one-hundredth of second behind her. Only the Richtmann twins placed better than us with record breaking Qualifying times. Beth and I were just a hundredth of a second behind the twins. To say that the four of us owned this course would be an understatement. It was like we were back home on the streets of Darlington or Columbia racing the old crowd.

Places where it wasn’t about the just the car, but a driver’s skill. Where the drivers trade as much paint as they do tire rubber and chrome. Places where a race was more often ran for nothing more than bragging rights. I chuckled as I thought about some of those movies that show massive amounts of cash changing hands at illegal street races. The truth of the matter is very small amounts of cash ever change hands. Never more than a few thousand at most. Now, car titles on the other hand are another story. More than a few of those changed hands between the winners and the losers. That was where the money came about. The reselling of cars or their individual parts. That was how I earned most of the money I put into my GTO.

Finally, Beth and I were racing in a way and place that we learned to drive. On the streets. The last two races were on designed and purpose built race tracks. I learn that those types of tracks give the other teams an advantage. I may do alright on those types of courses but not on one like this. Most of the other drivers were trained on the race circuit tracks. Whereas Beth and I learned how to race on the streets of South Carolina. I knew that every time we came to one of these tracks, we would have the advantage from now on. It wouldn’t matter where is the world we were. We would be the ones that owned the street and road courses.

“You girls did damned good yesterday. I know that you would have preferred to take first and second, but you can’t win them all.” I turned to smile at mom as she walked up to us. “Still third and fourth place ain’t too bad. The points for those positions help with our overall team standings in the owner’s race.”

“We know that mom. The twins were just luckier than we were yesterday.” Beth assured her. “We’ll take them down on the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya in Barcelona.”

“Don’t go getting cocky there Beth. There is still a lot of racing to go this season. The Richtmann twins aren’t the only ones gunning for you girls.” Mom warned.

“We know that mom. That’s what makes it so much fun. With the exception of the Richtmann twins none of those other mooks take us seriously.” I let the giggle that I had been holding go. “Every time they try to pin us down. We just slip-slide-away into the drift before they know what hit them.”

Mom chuckled as she hugged both me and Beth. “That you do, dear. There are times that I sit up there in the spotter’s nest and hold my breath. What you girls do out there with our cars is pure magic at times. I think how the hell did they just do that or where did they think up that maneuver. It takes my breath away.”

“Mom, we’re good but we’re not magicians.” I began then sighed. “Look, I know that I’ve kept a lot of my skills at the wheel of a car secret from you and dad. The same way as Beth. But we did it so that you won’t worry. You and dad have always known about our rat-racing. We just never let you know just how good we are.”

“Yah, it was kind of became our big sister/little brother thing. Something that was just between us in the family mom.” Beth waved her arm at the pit area and race course. “Not like that out there, where the whole world sees us. To them we’re nothing more than the newest entertainment spectacle.”

“Back home on the streets we’re just two kids that love to go hard and fast. To push our cars to their limits and see what happens.” I sighed into mom’s shoulder. “At home we’re nothing more than your everyday street-racers. Not Formula One racing stars Bobbie and Beth McGuire.”

“That’s the funny part mom. We show up at home and we’re just the local talent that got lucky.” Beth said grinning. “It’s that attitude that constantly reminds us of just how lucky we are.”

Dad started chuckling as he walked up to us. “We raised you girls right. Just keep those level heads, never forget where you came from, and you can’t go wrong.”

“Thanks, dad. How much longer for loading up the cars?” Beth asked.

“Another half hour to forty-five minutes for breakdown and loading. After that it’s off to the airport.” Dad gave me a hug. “We should be landing in Spain six hours following takeoff. After that we got seven days to get the cars and you girls ready for the Spanish Grand Prix. This time you’ll have the advantage.”

“Don’t think so, dad.” I quickly corrected him. I knew that the only tracks we had the advantage on were the street courses. “As much as I hate to say this it is the truth. The purpose built tracks favor the more established teams and drivers.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” Mom asked. “You girls have shown you can handle any course they throw at you. The only course that has given you any problems so far has been here. Even then your only competition was the Richtmann twins.”

“Mom, Bobbie is right. The regular purpose built tracks do favor the other drivers. So, far our two wins have been on street course. Yes, I know that Shanghai is technically a purpose built race circuit but the way it is laid out and paved it might as well be a street course. As for the Richtmann twins being our only competition think again. Gusmand, Reinaldi, and Shepard, just to name a few could cause problems for us at any time.” Beth was quick to point out.

Mom and dad stood there staring at me and Beth with stunned looks of disbelief. For them to hear us actually confessing to our shortcomings like this was just too much. “Sis I think we broke them.”

“Nah. Nothing like. They just need time to adjust to the idea of that we’re not perfect. Once that sinks in, they’ll be just fine.” With that Beth hugged mom and dad. Moved out of the for me to do the same. Once we had both hugged our parents, we took off to give the pit crews a hand in getting our cars ready to transport.

I know that most drivers don’t bother with showing their faces around the pits unless they’re there to drive. Unlike Beth and me, who are always in the pit area. Neither of us can just stand around and do nothing. We have to get our hands dirty with turning a screwdriver or bending a wrench. I know that more than a few of the other teams think we’re a little nuts. Not that we give a damn one way or the other what they think. We do know that our fans get a kick out of the pictures of us in the pits working with the crews. I think we have autographed more than a thousand of those at the meet and greets on Thursday’s.

When Mr. Gunderson saw the first pictures of us turning wrenches with the teams in the pits he was not happy with us. He thought that we should present a more lady like appearance for the public. Then he saw how much the younger fans loved seeing the way we worked with our crews. It was a real PR phenomenon. One that was fast overtaking the F1 fan community. We were caught off guard by the number of teenage girls that followed our sport. Mr. Gunderson explained that there was an actual rise in the number of teenage girl fans since we started driving. More than in Indy, NASCAR, and Drift over the last decade. I put it down as nothing more than us being the newest face in the sport. Then I noticed that as we raced in the different countries there was more to it. There were just as many teenage boys as there were girls among our fans.

I didn’t know what creeped me out more. The number of moon-eyed boys or cow-eyed girls that came to see us. I know that Kelly isn’t too happy with all the attention the boys are showing me. I get a kick out of her jealousy at times. I always make it up to her later that night in our hotel. Kelly hasn’t been as torqued up over our fans since I proposed to her. I think it has to do with the fact that she knows that I will always come home to her loving arms.

“HEY! BOBBIE!” I turn to see Tony and the Four Horsemen pushing one of the specially designed cargo crates that holds some of our equipment. “You know where the team trucks are parking?”

The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean? I thought that you were loading them up here in the pits?”

“We are. This crate is supposed to be on the truck carrying our emergency replacement parts. That idiot driver pulled out before we got this one in the van.” Danny answered me quickly. “Dad wants to keep all of the spare parts together. If we can anyway. Something is going on with dad and Chief Marks about this jump.”

“Their parking the transports at the far end of the paddock road before letting them leave. Something about double checking the security seals before allowing them to leave. It seems some of the other teams have been trying to get the specs on the other cars.” I chuckled as the guys just shook their heads at the stupidity.

Even I knew the security surrounding those trucks matched armored bank cars. Not something you screwed with, in the UE. Not and lived to tell about it. The last time someone tried to take down one of those armored bank cars the whole crew ended up in body bags. The police escort just gunned them down not bothering to try and take prisoners. It made the news in over thirty countries.

“Damn. If their already double checking the seals, then we’ll have to put this on another truck. Come on guys let’s get a move on.” Tony said as the five of them hustled to move the cargo container to the next truck in line. “Bobbie do us a favor and explain this to the Chiefs.”

“I’ll cover for you guys. Just take care of that container.” I called back as they pushed the container towards the next truck. I was more than a little surprised at first by the sheer number of trucks that was used to get us from point A to B. As I stood there watching the guys, I began to marvel at the sheer magnitude of the logistics that it took to run the Formula One World Championship.

I thought about how each team competing in the FIA Formula One World Championship now travels something like 160,000 kilometers or 100,000 miles a year between races and test sessions. The logistical effort isn’t as simple as merely getting people and equipment in place. Hotel accommodation must be found and booked. Some teams can require up to 100 rooms. Then there hire cars that must be sourced and the team's facilities at the circuit. Everything from the pit garage equipment to the drivers' motorhomes and the paddock corporate hospitality units must all be in place. Just as important, in this digital age, are the secure data links that connect a team to its base, every type of data and telemetry must be sent directly back to that team’s home-base. It allows engineers to study any potential problems, even while the race is running.

During the European rounds of the championship the team's equipment will travel by road. In specialized liveried articulated lorries. Most these are familiar from race paddocks across the continent. All of the equipment required for the weekend will be loaded in these. Cars, spare parts, computers, and tools, nothing is left to chance. Only the tyres, fuel and certain other equipment are brought separately by technical partners and local contractors.

The non-European or 'flyaway' races the logistical effort is considerably more complicated as equipment has to be flown out on transport planes. Rather than use conventional aircraft containers, teams have created their own specially designed cargo crates, designed to fill all available space in the holds of cargo plans. Most teams use cargo planes chartered by the Formula One Management (FOM) which fly from London and Munich to wherever the race is being held. In the case of successive flyaway races there is insufficient time between them to allow the teams' equipment to be brought 'home', meaning direct transit between the two races. This means that considerably more components have to be packed.

As the number of races outside Europe continues to expand, so does the massive logistical effort required to transport the teams and their equipment expands right alongside it. Already the amount of transport required for just one season of Formula 1 racing has been described, only half-jokingly. Mom once told me that it was not too dissimilar to what was needed for a medium-sized military campaign. One similar to that used by the US Military for Operations Enduring Freedom or Desert Storm. Jake Stone joked just before we left that my army awaited their general.

As I looked around the pit area I realize that he might not be joking. Between Beth and I, we had more than fifty people counting on us to win as often as possible. We were the Generals that commanded this small army. It was our job to ensure that they would be in the next race. Just as it was their job to ensure that we had the needed equipment to run that race.

“Excuse me Fräulien McGuire. May we have a moment of your time?” I knew the voice was one that I had never expected to hear. At least not in a pleasant manner.

I turned to find Hans and Detrick Richtmann standing just behind me smiling. I knew that my German was a barely up to the job, but I tried my best anyway. “Guten tag Herren. Was kann ich für Sie tun?”

Both of the twins chuckled. The one on the right took my right hand and bowed over it slightly. I think he was Hans, I’m not sure. “No need to used German Fräulien. Our English is better than most on the circuit. Thank you though for trying.”

“I must admit that I am slightly surprised that you would come all the way down to the pit to find me. It’s not your normal operation.” I figured I would get straight to the point with them. Their dislike of me was well known.

“We came by to wish you good luck for the rest of the season. Und in your upcoming marriage to Fräulien Ringwald.” The twin on the left said. This one had a slightly heavier accent so that made him, Detrick. I think.

“Thank you, gentlemen. May I know why you’re wishing me good luck? After all you did just beat me and my sister yesterday. You stand just as good a chance to win the championship as we do.” I figured that I would be honest with them.

“Not so, McGuire. After today we will no longer be competing against each other.” When the twin on the right started talking, I gave up on trying to figure out who was who. I just tagged them twin number one and twin number two in my head.

“What? Why? Aren’t you going to complete the season?” I asked them.

“We were only brought in until our team owners could find permanent replacements. They signed their replacement drivers last night. We will be returning to either the F-two or three circuit for the rest of the season. Hopefully we’ll pick up a new ride before too long.” Twin number two told me with a smile. “It has been a true honor to compete against you and your sister. We have never before had such competition from ones so young.”

“Ja. You and your sister’s skills as drivers pushed us to be better drivers. Our races have come down to luck. Between our two teams there is only simple luck that now separates the winners and losers. Your skills just barely surpass ours, while the technology for our cars barely surpass yours.” Twin number one told me. “This last race prove that point. To both us, and our former sponsors.”

“Umm… just what do you mean? That luck is the only thing separating our teams.” I had cocked my head to the side trying to understand what they were getting at.

“Fräulien you and sister are without doubt the best drivers currently on the circuit. Yet your cars are mostly last years designs. With the exception of your powerplants. Those are definitely next generation.” Twin number two pointed out with a smile as if it was obvious to the whole world. I really needed to learn how to tell them apart if we were ever to become friends.

When they started to chuckle at my look of concentration, I knew that I had been caught out. The twins sang at the same time. “You can’t tell us, apart can you?”

I gave up and started to laugh. I just nodded my head yes until I got myself under control again. Twin number one held up his hand. “I am Hans. The good looking one.”

“While I am Detrick. The smart one.” Twin number two said while holding up his hand. Their latest antics just had me laughing all the harder. Especially as they are identical twins with no real way to tell them apart. That is if you didn’t know them personally. That was what it took to tell them apart. As they each had their own personality separating them one from the other. I was fast learning the two very distinctive personalities that separated the two men.

“Okay guys. You got to stop already. Please? I’m close to peeing my panties.” I was close to begging them to stop at this point.

“Of course, Fräulien McGuire. We have had our fun.” Hans agreed with a smile.

“Ja. We have had our fun.” Detrick gave me a smile. “We shall be going now. Best of luck Fräulien. Watch your backside around Reizenstein and Shafer. They are our replacements. They do not have any respect for you or your sister. They are just like our old team owners. They believe that Americans have no place in Formula One racing. They have already sworn to take you both down. One way or another.”

“Warning taken, and heeded Detrick.” I knew that a lot of teams felt that way about me and Beth. Yet they had always raced us clean. Dirty tricks were not in the Richtmann wheelhouse. Sadly, I cannot say the same for the rest of the drivers and their teams. Still I held out my hand to him anyways. “By the way, it’s just Bobbie and Beth from now on. Good luck wherever you land guys.”

“Abschied und viel Glück, Bobbie. We hope to race against again one day.” Hans said after Detrick shook my hand.

As the two men turned to walk away, I stopped them. “Say guys before you take off. Can you answer me a question?”

Detrick looked at Hans then over to where I was looking. “It concerns the twin Fräuliens that are always with us, yes?” I nodded my head yes. “Yes, they are our Fräus. We met and married them both three years ago in Berlin.”

Hans chuckled. “Ja. We know that it is a little cliché for twins to marry twins, but we do love them. It is kind of hard to find someone to love you when you push a seven-hundred-and-twenty-eight kilogram car to over one-hundred kph for a living. You should know this by now, Bobbie?”

I looked over to where Kelly was working with the teams. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I don’t know what I would without her.”

“It is true. You and Fräulien Ringwald are engaged to be married?” Hans asked smiling. I smiled and nodded my head yes. “Have you Fräuliens set the date yet?”

“No, not yet. We’re thinking sometime after the season is over.” I had a sudden flash of insight. “Say guys, where did you get the matching engagement rings?”

“When you reach Barcelona there is a small jewelry shop not too far from the main gates of the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya. It is a family owned shop. Ask to see their grandfather. He still works there every day. He is a true master craftsman.” Detrick answered quickly for me. “If you’re looking for matching rings it won’t take him more than three days for a wedding set.”

“Um… will he have a problem with… well… um…” I couldn’t figure out how to ask them about the man’s feelings towards LBGT.

“They only see one color Bobbie. The color green.” Detrick wise cracked. “They don’t care who commissions a piece. Only that their money is good.”

“Thank you, Detrick. I was worried about that. While LBGT relations have made progress in America not everyone is accommodating to our views.” I figured that I needed to explain why I was looking outside of the US.

“They do not let politics interfere with business. It has been their policy since the grandfather founded the shop in nineteen-sixty-nine.” Hans chuckled. “The old man wasn’t too popular with some of the Nationalist Party under Franco.”

“Why didn’t they… well… you know arrest him? I mean if he was so disliked wasn’t it the normal policy for people like to disappear?” I asked.

“Those types of strong arm tactics went out of fashion after the Second World War. Franco and his party wanted to be accepted by the UN as a legitimate government.” Detrick explained for me. “Their biggest national income was the tourist trade for a while. The Party went out of its way to curtail, even stop those types of things.”

“Damn. There is so much world history that never gets put into the books. I’ve learned more about world history in the last two months. Then I ever learned in four years of high school.” I moaned. “Never let it be said that American schools are the top of the A-list.”

“Well, we need to be going, Bobbie.” Hans said with a smile. “Once again good luck.”

“Same to you guys.” I shook their hands one more time before they walked away. Beth walked up to me as they disappeared out of sight. “There goes the best competition we ever had or faced sis. It’s going to be a damned shame that we won’t be facing them again. At least during this season.”

“What do you mean?” Beth gave me a sideways look.

“They lost their ride. It seems that Hans and Detrick were only temp drivers. The team was just waiting for their two newest drivers to be freed up.” I turned to Beth and I wasn’t smiling. “What do you know about Andree Reizenstein and Maximillian Shafer? Ever heard about them?”

“Just that they are some of the meanest nastiest, dirtiest, drivers on the European Drift circuit. They aren’t known for their fair play attitudes. They don’t have any problems with putting another driver into the wall.” As Beth listed off the nicer qualities of the new drivers, I started to formulate a plan for dealing with them.

“Tell me something Beth. Do you get the feeling that certain team owners are out to get us? Or am I just being paranoid?” I joked.

“Bobbie, when people are deliberately trying to put your ass into a wall at over one hundred miles per hour. No, you’re not being paranoid enough.” Beth snapped.

“I thought so.” I reached into the hip pocket of my skinny jeans. I pulled out the foil pouch that I had stuffed there earlier. Wading up a small ball of the contents I popped the pick rubbery material in my mouth and began to chew. “Beth, I don’t know about you, but I just got a sinking feeling that the next few races are going to be more than a little squirrelly.”

Beth just snorted. “Squirrelly, she says.” Then she gives me a nasty look. “Bobbie, squirrelly doesn’t even began to cover what we’ll be facing.”

“Just what the hell does that mean?” I asked harshly.

“The other team owners have put a bounty on our asses. More than a few of those teams are getting pissed at you and me for beating the pants off their drivers.” Beth snarled. “Kelly doesn’t hear a quarter of what the rest of the pit crews do. The other teams really don’t want to see a pair of Americans any where near the top spots for the Championship.”

“Damn. Why the hell can’t we just race and leave the politics in the garbage pit?” I growled through clenched teeth.

“Don’t ask me Bobbie. I just know that it is out there on the track. With us winning half the races so far it is just egging them on.” I could tell that Beth was more in touch with what went on in the pits by the way she talked. Not that I was all that surprised. I did have a tendency to ignore anything that doesn’t hit me in the ass directly. That is when I deal with problems. I don’t go looking for them. Yet if they come looking for me, I don’t hold back.

“Fine by me. Let ‘em come. Like I said before. They want a war. I’ll give them a war they can’t win. The last time I looked we were in the top two Championship positions. The only way they can take us out of those slots is to wreck us on the track. The Marshals are already looking for that kind of horseshit.” I figured that I should point out the obvious. I blew a bubble and popped it while Beth thought about what I just said. “They’ll have to come at us sideways, Beth.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I could tell by Beth’s question that she didn’t understand the reference.

“Beth the other drivers are going to have to make it look like an accident or something along those lines. They’ll try to get the Marshals to penalize us for stupid shit. Make us into the newest ‘bad guys’.” I stopped and rethought that last statement, then grinned. “Or should that be newest ‘bad girls’?”

Beth just groaned as the corny joke. “That was just wrong on so many levels. You know that right, Bobbie?”

It was my turn to chuckle at my sister’s pain filled expression. “Yup. Let’s go finish helping the crews get things ready to take off. I have a feeling that mom and dad are going to really push us over the next few weeks.”

Beth got a very thoughtful look on her face. “I think more than just mom and dad are going to be pushing us. Have you seen the look in Coach Hall’s face lately. I swear that woman has a sadistic streak in her a mile wide. Have you seen the new workout schedule she posted on our team website?”

This time I was the one to groan. “Please don’t remind me. She has me down for five mile runs, seventy-five push-ups, and sit-ups. Not too mention weight training, and aerobics with the Cheerleaders. What about you?”

“The same.” She sighed. “Like I’ve said before. The woman is related to Tomás de Torquemada of the Spanish Inquisition.”

I giggled. “Well, considering where our next stop is, that might be a befitting description of her. Maybe we can check out her family ancestry while we’re there.”

“It would be nice to know if she was really related to Torquemada. I mean it would make sense if Coach Hall was related to the man. Wouldn’t it?” The quirky smile that Beth wore made me laugh.

“HEY! YOU TWO!” we both turned at the sound of dad’s voice. “You going to stand around all day or are you going to lend a hand? We got less than two hours to get these containers loaded up on the plane.”

“Coming dad!” We both yield at the same time. Then took off at a dead run to give them the much needed help in getting our team ready to move out. In the next twelve hours we would be in Spain. Another country, another race. This was the life we had signed up for. The crazy part is both Beth and I, not to mention the guys and gals on the teams, have come to not only embrace the life, but love it with all our hearts. I doubt that I could ever be a normal teenager again. My need for speed and pushing the boundaries of a car are just too great to ignore anymore. I faced my death once already in a hospital bed. I’ll never do that again. The day that I won my contract I faced down death once more.

I have two places that I truly feel alive. Out on the track going all out with my hair on fire and my ass catching. In the arms of Kelly at night. Anywhere else I feel like I’m missing something. What that is I don’t know. Not that I care. It was like Doc Sharron told me long ago. Life is nothing more than what you make of it. It can be either good or bad depending on your attitude. A good attitude makes for a good life. Bad attitude makes for a shitty one. Me, I just want to go fast, love hard, and live for as long as I can. For now, I just wanted to win as many races as I could and marry my high school sweetheart. After that who knows?

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 21
The Circuit de Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain
I look out my hotel window at the city below, marveling at what I see. This is the fifth city that I have seen in the last four months. I knew going into this that I would be traveling my ass off. Hell, the whole team knew we would be bouncing around the world on this fun filled carnival. We’ve been here for the last week. In that time Beth and I have ran the course four times, twice every day. Twenty miles a day with Coach Hall right on our heels.

I swear that woman knows the layout of the course just a well as we do now. In fact, I know she does. She took over for mom yesterday during a test run as my spotter. She called all sixteen turns, both DSR zones, dead on, then nailed the straightaways as if she had been doing it from day one. I thought it was a fluke at first, but when Coach Hall did it again with Beth, I knew I might be on to something. The next afternoon during the practice run I had Kathy on the spotters stand with her mouther. I figured why not. After all the two of them have been riding me and Beth like they’re our personal trainers. Those two have been out on that course with us every time we ran.

I know this sounds crazy as the two of them have absolutely no experience in the racing community. I am seriously considering having them call the rest of our races. Sure, mom and dad are good, but Kathy and her mom are better. I think that it was them running the tracks with Beth and me. I’m not sure but that is the only reason I can come up with their reads of the track. I know that they were giving dad and mom tips on how to handle the Baku City Circuit.

I know that Chief Hailee and Marks have been listening to the two of them more and more over the last four weeks. Especially when it comes to setting up the cars for me and Beth. I don’t know what the two of them talk about as we run around the courses but whatever it is, they’re keeping it to themselves. Then again of everybody on the team who runs with us, they’re the only two who can run and talk at the same time, talk about being in shape. Then again one is the Head Cheerleader the other is a professional Coach and Physical Fitness trainer. The rest of us are just trying to catch up to those two. Not that I’m bitching. If it wasn’t for Coach Hall, I know that I wouldn’t have the stamina to handle these races.

A lot of people think that race cars drivers aren’t real athletes. That it doesn’t take any skill or natural talent. That all a driver does is show up climb into a car and drive 190 miles as fast as you can. If you think that, your ass is sadly mistaken. Coach Hall has never thought like that. The first day on the job, the woman came in and put our asses through hell. She hasn’t let up yet.

I know that all of the girls love what she has done for their figures with all the training. Hell, I know that I’m not bitching. I’ve gotten rather proud of my curves and other certain feminine aspects of my body. I may be living as a woman for all the world to see, but until recently I was never really proud of how my body looked. Yeah, I know that sounds kind of girly. But when you’re growing tits, fat ass, and wide hips it really screws with your head if you’re a boy.

I know that Kelly has taken a real liking to my feminine assets. Every time that we have time off, she takes me shopping. Always for clothing that accentuates my feminine looks and shows off my figure. Lately though we’ve been visiting a lot of bridal shops. I’m just happy that we were able to find that jewelry shop Detrick told me about when we first got here.

Looking down at my left hand I smile. One of the engagement rings that Kelly designed for us now resides on my left-hand ring finger. Three intertwined rings of white, red, and yellow gold, with a Marque cut diamond set at a forty-five degree slant. Just like Detrick said it only took them three days to make the custom rings. The only time that I take it off is when I’m driving. Even then I hang it around my neck from a gold chain the grandfather sold us with the rings. I had to laugh at the way the granddaughters acted around us. You would thought we were Lady Gaga or someone like that.

I know that Kelly is happy as hell that we’re no longer being hounded by the Paparazzi. It seems that word kind of got back to those here in Europe that Americans have a nasty habit of solving unwanted problems with violence. I think it had something to do with a paparazzi who got too nosey in my hometown. It seems that the local police turned a blind eye to the life altering beating the man received at the hands of some very concerned citizens. It is either that or what happened to the few that came snooping round our cars in Australia. The guys on the team hand out a few of the same types of beatings. I’m not too sure what the actual situation is, but I don’t really care. The paparazzi basically leave Kelly and me alone now unless we’re around one of the tracks.

My thoughts were brought back to the here and now by the pounding on my room door. I shout out at whoever is there. “Just a minute.”

“Bobbie, mom wants you and Kelly to meet her in their room.” I chuckle at the sound of Joey’s voice. I can tell he is still pissed off about having to finish his sophomore year on the road. Especially as his tutor is Coach Hall. The woman is smarter than she looks and spares no minds. Coach Hall has been torturing his poor brain for the last days with test after test.

I opened the door to smile at Joey. “Will you just relax Joey. We got another seven hours before we have to be downstairs for that stupid party.”

“Bobbie, I don’t think that mom wants to talk with you about tonight’s party.” He leaned to the side and waved at Kelly. “Hey, Kelly!”

“Hey there Joey. Do you know what your mom wants?” Kelly asked as she walked up behind me. I smelled her perfume as she wrapped her arms around me.

“Gah! I would tell you two to get a room, but you already got one.” Joey bitched at us both with a smile.

“Oh, get over yourself already kiddo. You want to answer the question.” Kelly asked.

“Shit. Don’t ask me. The only thing that I do know is that crazy woman is back.” Joey tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the elevators. “When you see mom and dad tell them I’m headed for the pool.”

“HAY! What crazy woman?” Kelly yelled out as Joey hit the button to call the elevator. When he just waved Kelly got pissed. “WHAT CRAZY WOMAN?”

“Forget about it babe. I think I know who he’s talking about. Come on, let’s go see what mom wants.” I pulled Kelly out the room and down the hall towards mom and dad.

“Who do you think we’re supposed to be meeting?” Kelly asked me halfway there.

“Who do you think?” I chuckled. “I want you to think about what we’ve been shopping for lately. I mean do you really think that woman is going to let us buy just any wedding dress. HELL! I’m surprised that she didn’t meet us in Baku.”

When Kelly realized who I was talking about she didn’t hold back. Her scream of outrage could have woken the dead. “She won’t dare!”

As if summoned by the power of Kelly’s scream Madame Isabella La Fayette appeared in the open doorway of my parents’ room. “GIRLS! Come in! Come in! We have much to discuss. We have designs to go over! Plans to make!”

“Hi, Izzy.” I gave the woman a hug in passing. I wasn’t the only one to hug her, Kelly was right behind me. “Hey mom. So, when did you get in Izzy?”

“I arrived this morning Bobbie. I must say that you have come a long way.” Izzy gave me the full-body once over. “Have you been studying the girls on the team?”

“Nope.” I giggled then wrapped my arms around Kelly. “I’ve just been doing my best to make my fiancée proud.”

Isabella gave me the stink eye before dropping her usual air of superiority. “Bullshit. I’ve been following your career and watching you. You have done more than just embrace your femininity I would say.”

“Stop already Izzy. You’ll give her a fathead.” Mom complained with a smile. “Not that Kelly would ever let you get a fathead Bobbie.”

“Thanks a lot mom.” I griped. I turned to Kelly who was nodding her head grinning. Looking back at Izzy. “See what I got to put up with Izzy?”

“Bless their hearts they don’t know any better, dear. Just remember that they love you.” I almost laughed at hearing Lizzy use the great South Carolina disclaimer.

“Okay Issy. What brings you here? I mean you hate racing in general.” I asked.

“You get engaged and think that I wouldn’t hear about it? Then I hear you’ve been going to bridle shops without consulting me. Isabella La Fayette, the premier fashion consultant to raising stars of the sports world.” Izzy put on her air of French Nobility and sniffed her nose at me and Kelly. “How dare you?”

That was it I lost it. Kelly couldn’t hold in her laughter either. Izzy just smirked and waved for us to take a seat at the coffee table. There before us was just about every bridal magazine currently in publication. I’m talking about everything from Bridal Guide Magazine to The Knot Ultimate Wedding Planner. I could only think of one thing to say and I knew it would get me in trouble.

“Holy shit! What is this? The assault on Normandy Beach!” Instead of getting chewed out Mom, Izzy, and Kelly just busted out laughing. “This is not funny.”

Mom wrapped me in her arms. “Oh honey we’re not laughing at you. We’re laughing at the situation. You accidently put into words what every girl knows about weddings.”

“Your mom is not joking Bobbie. The planning for the D-Day assaults took less time than an everyday wedding. When you add in the popularity of one of either the bride or groom things really get ramped up.” Izzy quipped.

“Oh, come on. What is there to plan? Go down to the Courthouse, get the license, find a Judge in good standing, exchange vows, and bingo. You’re married.” I figured that this was the best time to put forth my idea for our marriage, elopement. The ass chewing that I expected earlier finally came. With far more fireworks than I had expected. You would have thought that I had just shit on the Constitution.

“IF YOU THINK THAT I’M GOING TO JUST ELOPE WITH YOU ROBERTA LEE MCGUIRE! YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!” Kelly screeched at the top of her lungs.

“You can forget that bullshit idea right now! I didn’t carry you in my womb for ten months just to let you go gallivanting off to be married by some courtroom crackpot. You’ve been sucking down too many hi-octane race fumes!” Yelled out mom right behind Kelly. “And you can damned Skippy forget about Vegas as well.”

“Oh, come on mom. Give me a break already. I’m not that bad of a guy.” I complained.

“The hell you’re not.” Kelly bitched. “If you didn’t have to wear a dress for the sponsor parties. You’d be in a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.”

Before I could correct Kelly, mom started chuckling. “Yup, they’re definitely a couple. I see them being together for a long time to come.”

“Yes, they shall grow old and gray together.” Izzy put into her two cents sagely. “Now, let’s get down to business. First off, the two gowns.”

“Wait a minute. Who said anything about needing two gowns? I’m wearing a tuxedo.” I told Izzy bluntly. I figured I needed to secure some control here over the wedding. Boy was I about to be proven wrong.

“Remember your contract with Mercedes-Benz, Bobbie.” Mom said bluntly. “You know the one that you signed in front of me.”

“Okay mom, no need to break out the whipping post. Sheesh!” I pouted. “I’ll wear a damned wedding gown already. Just don’t make it to frilly. Please?”

“Oh no you don’t, missy. You’re not going to rain on my wedding.” Kelly snapped. “I don’t care what you want. We’re both wearing matching gowns. Understood?”

“Kelly, my love.” I started off sweetly. “I’m only asking for you to try and curtail your natural girliness. Just a tad bit.”

“If I promise not to go over broad, you have to at least sit here and look through these magazines with me. Deal?” Kelly held out her hand.

I just sighed and gave into the inevitable. I just shook my hand. “Deal.”

“Good now that, that is out of the way. Let’s get down to work.” Izzy picked up the following magazines The Ultimate Guide to Gowns and Brides Guide to Gowns. “Now, I have selected a few gowns for you two to look over.”

Two hours and forty-seven dresses later, I was seriously wondering what Izzy’s idea of a ‘few’ really meant. I swear that the dresses just seemed to blend into one continuous gown by the time we got done. It also felt like my eyes were crossing. As for mom, Izzy, and Kelly they were ready to go for another two hours. I could see it in their eyes. Thankfully I had to be down at the track for a late afternoon test run. That was something that even Kelly couldn’t argue with.

After a short stop, back at our room, to grab my gear and leathers we head for the track. The car ride wasn’t that bad today. Most of the traffic was heading away from the track today. At least for today. Starting tomorrow things will change. The fans have already started to show up. After today the traffic will be murder as we’ll be fighting the fans to get to and from the track. It will be at it’s worse on Sunday morning. The day of the race.

The moment I step foot into the pit area Chief Hailee stops me. “Bobbie, have you seen your sister?”

“She should still be up at the hotel Chief. If you try our parents’ room you should get her. Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Naw, anything is good. I was just hoping to get one more practice run in with her new setup.” Chief Hailee gave me a reassuring smile. “Say why is she in your parents room? Something going on that we need to know about?”

“Nope. She is talking with Izzy.” At his blank look I chuckled. “Izzy, found out about our engagements and has appointed herself as our wedding planner.”

Chief Hailee stood there blinking his eyes at me for a few seconds. When what I said finally sank in, he started to chuckle then laugh outright. It took him a good ten minutes to get his act together before he could finally talk to me again. “I know this is going to sound fucked up Bobbie. But I would pay good money to have seen your face when Isabella dropped that little bomb on you.”

“Let’s just say that I was more than a little surprised, Chief.” I gave him a sideways smile. “Chief when you got married. How much planning went into it? Wait that didn’t come out right. How much work did your wife put into it?”

“Let me guess. Izzy, Kelly, and your mom, are planning your girls’ wedding like it was the D-Day invasion of Europe. Am I wrong?” Chief Hailee chuckled as I winced and nodded my head. “Bobbie, my girl, if this was just the first day just wait until you’re six months from the date. That’s when shit will really get crazy.”

“You mean to tell, it gets worse?” I whined. Only to have Chief Hailee laugh at me.

“Speedy, you have no idea how bad it can and will get the closer to the wedding date. I think my Marry, came close to shooting her bride’s maids at one point. I won’t even go into what happened with the reception hall screw up. Or the seating arrangements for the wedding and the reception. My God! Then there was the fight between her mother and mine over where to hold the wedding.” The more Chief Hailee talked about the headaches of his wedding the more the idea of eloping appealed to my more practical side. “Already thinking about eloping kiddo?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for the last two hours Chief. And that is with just my mom, Kelly, and Izzy in the room. I don’t even want to think about what it’s going to be like when Kelly’s mom gets involved.” I explained.

“IF you think that Kelly’s mom isn’t already involved Bobbie. You have a lot to learn about being a couple yet. Trust me on that kiddo.” Chief Hailee chuckled. I just shrugged my shoulders and looked over at the car.

“Is she ready for our last test run, Chief?” I asked him.

“She’ll handle anything you can throw at her and ask for more. We’ve tweaked the suspension as far as we can and still be within regulation. As much as you loved that old powerplant we had to replace it as well. We tried to rebuild the old one after your last test run. Unfortunately, we found heat-stress fractures in the block. The good thing we had enough spare parts on the trucks to replace the engine. I’m just happy as hell that the one truck showed with the rest. We still haven’t figured out how it got separated from the rest of the team trucks.” I could tell that Chief Hailee was still pissed over what happen in Baku with the trucks.

He wasn’t the only one either. I know that just about every member of the team is pissed off over what happened. I don’t blame the truck driver, but I can understand how it happened. One of the FOM directors told the driver to move his truck out of the way for the next truck inline. The stupid mistake damned near cost my team a shitload of money and possibly our season. When we found out what had happened, dad blew his fucking top and filed at least six formal complaints against DHL and the FOM jackass that lost our truck.

“Any word on the new radios?” I asked him. The old ones were dropping out for no reason ever since the wreck in Bahrain. Not constantly, or all the time. It has only been in the last week that they’ve become truly unreliable. We’ve tried everything under the sun to try and fix the problem. It has finally come down to replacing the whole setup. From the spotters down to the car radios.

“They got here last night, and we replaced them this morning. I’ve had Danny up in the nest. We’ve double check those radios as best as we could.” I could tell that there was something bugging him about the radios.

“It short they need to be tested under driving conditions. I kind of figure that already. Any other changes that I need to know about?” I was already getting worried over the number of changes to the car as it was. I really hoped that was all there was to deal with. Any more there could be some massive problems.

“Nope that is all. Keep it under the radar and on the ground for now. I want you to break that powerplant and transmission slowly.” I got the drift. Chief Hailee was still pissed over me blowing the last one to kingdom come.

“Understood, Chief. Nice and easy.” I headed for the trailer to change into my leathers and Nomex suit. Twenty minutes later, I headed back out to the car. I was amazed at how fast the crews got the car ready for me to take out.

Danny helped into the cockpit and handed me my helmet and gloves. I slip my earbuds in and pull on the baklava. It takes me ten minutes to get set for the test run. I hold my hand and give the thumbs up. I feel the chained demon of speed, that I have strapped my ass to, come to life. I feel the rumble of its roar through the seat. I shift into first gear and let out the clutch. As I roll down pit row, I start going over the track layout in my head.

Turn 1 is the main overtaking point at Catalunya, it has a hard braking zone at the end of a long DRS straight. The inside and outside are equally difficult for overtaking; drivers who can hold the line around the outside of turn 1, can get the inside line for turn two. The corners themselves make up a medium-speed chicane, drivers tend brake rather late for turn 1 and downshift into second gear. Turn 2 is almost at full throttle as they try to gain as much exit speed as possible. Turn 3, the Renault turn, is a long, flat-out right-hander that has a g-force of about four. It leads to a short straightaway and the beginning of section 2.

Turn 4, the Repsol curve. It is another right-hander, turn 4 is similar to Monza's Curva Parabolica. A lot of drivers brake hard and take an early apex, usually in third gear, carrying a shit load of speed off of the exit. Turn 5 feels like it comes out of nowhere and is a slow left-hander taken in second gear which drops rapidly downhill towards the left kink of turn 6 which is ignored by F1 cars. Turns 7 and 8 make up a medium-speed, uphill, left-right chicane. Most drivers brake and shift down to third gear and most try not run too wide as turn 8 has a large curb on its apex which could tear up or damage a cars' suspensions. Turn 9, Campsa Corner, is a very fast, sixth-gear right-hander which is made incredibly difficult by being completely blind. Drivers can’t see the apex on approach. The approach is steep as shit and uphill while the exit is downhill, it’s quite easy to run wide onto the astroturf. It exits onto the back straightaway while nowhere near as long as the front straightaway it leads to the beginning of section three.

That straightaway leads into turn 10, La Caixa, a second-gear, left-hand hairpin. Turn 10 dumps out into turns 11 and 12, a left kink before a long, slow, third-gear righthander. The second half of section three was redesigned by German engineer Hermann Tilke to lower speeds for the 1,047m pit straightaway. It starts off with turn 13 a tight, third-gear right-hander. Drivers have to cross the track quickly to take the racing line through the slow left-right chicane of turns 14 and 15, best taken in second gear. Turn 16, the New Holland turn, the last turn, is a flat-out right-hander which exits onto the pit/front straightaway. Between the exit of turn sixteen and turn one, cars across the start/finish line on this 1,047m straightaway.

As I roll onto the track in second gear, I have to fight to keep my excitement under control. I can already tell the difference with the new powerplant and transmission. I have shit load more power. I key my mike. “Chief is this one of mom’s new engines?”

“Sure, is kiddo. I was wondering if you would notice.”

I chuckled and keyed my mike. “Who’s in the nest?”

“Kathy is up there right now. She’s on channel two. Listen up kiddo, that powerplant is close to twenty-five percent stronger than the old ones. Take your time and get the feel for it. I do not want to explain to your parents why their daughter got hurt doing something stupid. Especially during a test run.”

“I’m with the Chief on this one Bobbie. Keep your foot off the gas in turns five, seven, eight, fourteen, and fifteen. Each one of those is slicker than black ice on route thirty-one. Do not open it up all the way on the back straightaways. As much as you want to, don’t. They’re not as long as you think. You got one straightaway out there that can handle the full power of that new powerplant. That’s the front straightaway. Even that is fucking iffy. The track conditions have been shifting all day long. Carlos Rivera spun out in turn three for fucks sake. I mean come on. That turn practically screams for higher speeds.” I wanted to laugh at Kathy’s description of the track. The sad part was that she was right. Of all the turns on this course turn three was a high speed turn.

“And watch your ass on that uphill run going into turn nine. Vasquez and Lucas both damned near lost it in the apex. After that you got a clean track until you hit turns fourteen and fifteen. That chicane is wicked sharp. Muller flat spotted all four tires because he went in too fast. The straightaways between turn eight, and nine, nine and ten, along with the pit-row straightaway are your best bet for overtaking someone. Forget about the DRS zones unless you absolutely have a clear shot at overtaking the guy in front of you.”

Damn the girl was on the ball. “Kathy, how long have you been up there?”

I took turn four at an easy pace waiting for Kathy to answer me. “Me and mom have been out here since we got back from our morning team run. We’ve watched every driver that has made a test run today. Mom has been filming them while I’ve been taking notes. We’ve been trying to figure out what is going with the track all day Bobbie. Slow down and hold the inside line for turn six. The outside edge has gone slicker by the hour. We think it’s the rubber buildup on the track.”

I took her advice and came out in a better position to take on the seven-eight chicane at a decent speed. Good enough to take the hill into turn nine without having to overpower the rise. Kathy’s warning about the turn apex being treacherous was more than enough for me keep my foot off the gas. As I cleared the exit off turn nine, I was caught off guard by the back straightaway. The new powerplant had more power than I thought. I had to stand on the breaks and downshift like crazy before going into turn ten. I can understand why Kathy said this was a perfect spot for an overtake. If the other driver wasn’t ready for it, you could slide by them like butter on a hot griddle.

“Bobbie, you got company on the track. They’re coming on hard and fast. I think they’re going to try and pass you on turn thirteen or the next chicane.” Kathy’s warning let me know that whoever it was wasn’t out here to say hello. “Bobbie, I know the Chief told you to take it easy on the engine, but this asshole isn’t going to let you. Time to take the gloves off.”

“Kathy’s right Bobbie. That fool is one of the two new assholes gunning for you. Don’t worry about the powerplant or transmission. If you break ‘em we can replace them. Just don’t let that shit bird anywhere near you.” I thought my teeth were going to snap as I ground them going into turn twelve.

“Bobbie come in tight for turn thirteen and let your rear end slide. That will set you up for the fourteen-fifteen chicane. Remember that is the tightest part of the course. You’ll want to use your lower gears.” I did exactly what Kathy told me. “Watch the exit on turn fifteen. There is a buildup of loss rubber in the area.”

When I came out of the chicane, I was set perfectly for the DRS zone just before the righthander of turn sixteen. I couldn’t believe how well she called the setup or how fast she was able to spot the changes in the track conditions. When we ran the track this morning there wasn’t any rubber buildup. Now, the whole outer edge was like driving on marbles. If she hadn’t warned me of the buildup, I would have powered my way off the exit of turn fifteen, straight into the gravel. Instead I’m setup for a perfect DRS pass if I need to or to block one.

“Okay, you can start poring on the power. Just remember that you have to hold back until you clear the exit for the final turn. After that you can really open that bad boy up. Just remember turn one is a snake waiting to strike at the end of that thousand meters. Marks and Handready both came close to losing it earlier this afternoon. The only thing I can figure out is the track is building up loose rubber.”

“Understood, Kathy. Where is my playmate?”

“He’s coming out of turn eight and powering up the hill for turn nine. Oh shit! Mary, Joseph, and Jesus! Bobbie pull into the pits. Forget about going for another round. That dumbass just lost it on the apex. Oh fuck! Bobbie get off the track. NOW! They’re rolling the emergency crews now.”

I could tell by the sound of Kathy’s voice that crash was bad. “Are they rolling the fire truck? How bad is it?”

“Just get off the track now, Bobbie. It’s bad. Real bad. I see fire trucks, and ambulances rolling. The Marshals want everyone off the track.” That was all I needed to hear to start gearing down and head for the pits. If the Marshals are clearing the track the wreck was a bad one. I don’t even bother to head for the pit. Instead I head for the garage. I pull in and shutdown the engine. Danny and Kelly are right there helping me out the cockpit. As I hand my helmet to Danny, Kelly reaches in undoes my safety harness. They each grab an arm and help me to climb out the car.

“How bad is the wreck Danny?” I ask him.

“Like Kathy said, it’s bad Bobbie. The jackass tried to take turn nine at almost three quarters full power. He lost control, spun sideways, and rolled the car.” He never took his eyes off the direction of turn nine. “The first reports aren’t good.”

“Damn. Does anyone know who was driving that car?” I asked Kelly.

“Some new guy for Fontana’s old team. That is all we know for now.” Danny answered.

“Why do I get the feeling that they went out there to force me off the track?” I asked looking around the pit area.

“He was out there trying to prove that he was the better driver, Miss McGuire.” The man’s voice had me turning to face someone that I wasn’t expecting to ever meet socially. Albert Reizenstein, Belgian Formula One driver, replacement for Hans and Detrick Richtmann. “My teammate is not one to let a woman out drive him. Especially not an American woman. In his eyes you do not belong on the circuit.”

“I take it that you do not follow in his footsteps?” I asked politely.

“No. You and your sister have already proven you are worthy competitors and deserving of my respect. To disrespect you and your sister the way that Shafer and so many others have. To do so is an act of true folly, while inviting one’s own doom.” I had to give it to the guy. He certainly was a smooth talker.

“Care to explain what you’re doing in my garage area?” I fought like hell to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

“I came down here to actually meet you face to face in a less formal manner. Unlike our fellow drivers I have no use for the nightly cocktail party bullshit meet and greets. I prefer to face my competitors like a man.” I could tell that this man was more than just a driver. He was honorable and polite, a true representative for his countrymen. Not like a few of these other numb nuts.

I held out my hand. “I look forward to racing you then sir. Fair, and honorable. Deal?”

He took my hand. “Deal.” Before I could say more the sounds of a life-flight helicopter came over head. We both turned and looked towards the infield. “Damn. This is not good. If they’re flying Shafer out, then it is bad.”

Truer words could not have been spoken as we both turned to the sounds of the wrecker pulling into the garage area. Almost everyone in the area got a good look at the wrecked car. I should say what was left of the car. The only thing that I could think of for what happened to that car was a total failure of the fuel cell. And just about every safety function of the car.

“HOLY FUCK! What happened? What did it do, explode?” Kelly asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” We all turned to see Kathy and Coach Hall walking up. “From what we saw form the spotter’s nest we can expect to get a visit from the Marshals.”

“Why? I mean we’re well within regs for every safety requirement under the sun. Exactly what happened out there Kathy?” Chief Hailee demanded.

“All I know is Shafer hit the apex well over what his spotter told him. I could tell he was going to lose control the second he crested the hill. He let the front end come off the ground. By the time the it touched back down he was halfway into the apex of the turn and way too close to the outer edge. The left front hooked the curb and yanked the whole front end around. After that it was all over but the crying. The car spun out and continued to slide off the track sideways. That was until the right side tires blew out and after that the car just rolled. Until the nose dug in. After that the car started to cartwheel into the retaining wall.” Kathy got this faraway look in her eyes. “I watched the footage of the wreck in Bahrain. It may have been a single car wreck but Bobbie, this wreck was ten times more violent than that one. Shafer’s car hit ass end first on the wall.”

The second Kathy told me about how that car impacted I knew exactly what happened with the fuel tank. The sudden impact ruptured the cell. The fuel hit the hot engine igniting and boom. One massive fire bomb. I just hoped like hell that the cockpit’s safety features worked as advertised. If not, Shafer was a dead man. It won’t matter what the doctors did he would most likely die. Fire was one of the greatest fears that all professional race car drivers face. Burning to death is not in my top ten ways to die. I would rather slam into the wall at Daytona at one-ninety crushing every bones and organ in my body or slowly from cancer than burn to death.

I looked down the garage areas to see the Marshals stopping at each team. I knew straight up that this wasn’t going to be good news. When they got to us my suspicions were proven correct. “Your cars’ fuel cells will be inspected. If they are not up to standard your cars will be impounded for the next five races. The drivers will be fined ten-thousand Euros, and the team fifty-thousand. All owner points will be forfeited along with all driver’s points. The fuel cells will be removed for inspection. You have two hours to be ready.”

Those words were a death sentence for any team with non-regulation fuel cells. To be banned from one race was bad enough. Getting banned from five races would end any teams season. It wouldn’t matter where they were in the standings. The rest of the penalties were nothing more than icing on the cake. As far as the Marshals were concerned those penalties were just deserts.

As they walked away, I overheard one of them say to the other. “Double check these Americans. I won’t put it past them to cheat with oversized fuel cells.”

I snatched up a torque wrench off the toolbox. If it wasn’t for Danny grabbing me from behind, I would have caved the fuck’s head in. Thankfully, Chief Hailee stopped the asshole before he walked too far. “That was uncalled for sir. We will be filling a complaint with the FIA. This team has had enough of your harassing tactics. Especially from you Mister LaRue. This bullshit will end.”

“Either start treating this team with the respect that it has earned, or you can bet your pretty little ass the FIA will be hearing from us. Do we have an understanding?” Chief Marks snarled from his place on the other side of the garage.

“Are you gentlemen implying that I would use my position of authority to show favoritism towards another team?” The asshole almost snarled.

“If they ain’t, I sure the fuck am.” I snapped. “Every time we’ve turn around Mister LaRue you have been there snooping around. Looking for a reason to fine us or penalize this team. Enough is enough.”

“Is this true? Has Marshal LaRue been abusing his authority?” One of the other Marshals demanded of us.

“Fuck yeah it is. That cock-bite has done everything he can to fuck with this team.” Chief Donaldson from the Red Bull team told the man. He wasn’t the only team Chief to come forward. Six other Crew Chiefs came forward in our defense. After hearing from the four other Crew Chiefs the Head Marshal looked over at LaRue.

“You sir are fired. You can pickup your final pay check. You have twenty-minutes to be off the grounds. Now, get out of my sight.”

“You can’t fire me, Cutter.” LaRue countered.

“Wrong, LaRue. I can higher or fire any Marshal that is proven to be abusing their position. Which with seven well respected Crew Chiefs I have more than enough reason to fire you on the spot. Now get out of here.” This Cutter guy ordered LaRue.

“You will regret this Cutter. Sooner or later those filthy, laying, cheating, worthless Americans will get someone killed.” I swear the more LaRue ran his mouth the more he was just asking for a highspeed attitude adjustment, by torque wrench.

When I went to go after the fuck stick Chief Hailee stopped me. “Leave it be, Bobbie. He’s gone and we got a fuel cell to pull. Not that it matters. Unless we completely redesign the fuel cells for every team that wreck won’t be the last.”

“Excuse me, sir. Would you care to elaborate?” Cutter asked Chief Hailee.

“The fuel cells we use are nonstandard issue.” Chief Hailee answered with a smile. “Our tanks are heavier. They’re a triple walled system made from a high impact resin polymer. Each cell has twice the number of baffles to prevent back wash.”

“God lord! No wonder your fuel cells didn’t fail during the Bahrain wreck. Talk about over engineering for safety.” I could tell that Cutter was beyond impressed. “How do you compensate for the added weight?”

“Sorry, but that is a trade secret, Mister Cutter. All that I can tell you is it is in the construction of the chassis.” Hailee explained.

“How can that be sir? I saw that wreck. If you shorted the chassis it would have failed. Your cars could have been made race ready in less than four to five hours.” Cutter was doing his level best to figure out how mom designed our cars.

“Sorry, Mister Cutter, we’re not telling you how our cars are built.” Chief Hailee chuckled at the Marshal’s attempts to find out more about our cars.

Cutter finally got the hint and chuckled. “I see that I have been caught. Very well, sir. I’ll leave you to get ready for the inspection.”

When Cutter was gone. The pit crews went to work. I knew that I was in the way here. Chief Hailee looked over at me and Kelly. “You two girls have a party to get ready for. Go on and get out of here. We got this.”

“Are you sure about that Chief?” I was trying to find a way out of the party. The whole team knew I hate going to the sponsors’ party. Of all the parties that I have to go to this is the one I hate the most. I always feel like a slab of meat held in front of a starving lion. The irony is we need those shmucks to keep operating.

“Get out of here Bobbie. Go get showered and changed. You and Beth are the face of our team. Now, just suck it up and do your job. Go to the party shake that little ass and get us another sponsor. Someone needs to pay for the new radios.” Chief Marks wise cracked as he pushed one of the toolboxes over to the cars.

“It’s like the Chief said. Now get out of here.” Danny yelled at me from across the bay. “We got this.”

Kelly could tell I didn’t want to leave the garage. “Come on, babe. They got their job. We got ours. And ours is to go make the sponsors happy and gain more sponsors. Just remember that it is all part of the glamorous life of a Formula One Driver.”

I just looked her in the eye. Then blew her a giant raspberry.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 22
The Circuit de Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain, Race day.
I woke up to something that no one was expecting. Rain. Of all the shitty luck. It was bad enough that Beth qualified in fifth place and I qualified so far back in the field it wasn’t even funny. Nineteenth place thanks to a blown rear tyre. I swear if I didn’t know better, I would swear someone was out to get me. Sadly, it was nothing more than old fashioned bad luck. Every driver has a run of it every now and then. Most just do their best to keep their car out of the gravel and off the grass. It is all you can do really.

“Do you think they’ll postpone the race Bobbie?” Kelly asked from the bathroom doorway. I smiled as I looked over at my shoulder at her. “What’s with that look?”

“Just admiring the view.” I turned back to the window and sighed. “As for them postponing the race. That is anyone’s call at this point. I doubt it though.”

“Why do you say that?” Kelly asked as she wondered up behind me to wrap her arms around my waste. “You would think that with as slick as that track is getting, they would hold off at least until later in the day.”

“I doubt it. We’ll change out the slicks for groves and go racing anyway. Though I think by the time we get ready to drop the green the track will be dry.” I was already looking towards the western sky. I could tell that the clouds and rain would break long before race time. “No, my worry isn’t the rain or the track love.”

“Then what has you so lost in thought?” Kelly asked gently in my ear.

“Something is off Kelly. What that is I don’t know. I just know that something is off with me. I shouldn’t have to be fighting my way through the pack. Not like I’m today. I should be out there in front leading.” I bitched. “I can feel that cold bastard breathing down my neck again Kelly.”

“Bobbie, love, you need to relax and breath.” Kelly pulled me in tight to her chest. “I know that you can do this. You belong behind the wheel of a race car. They came to you remember? It wasn’t the other way around.”

Sighing I lean back into Kelly’s arms. “Kelly, it is more than just a feeling. I know that something is off. Whatever is wrong I know that it is going to get me, or Beth hurt today. Out there right now on that track is something that is going to try and kill me. Just don’t ask me how I know.”

“Don’t give me that shit Bobbie. We both know there is nothing out there on that track that can touch you. It was like Chief Hailee said. Not even the Bounty Hunter can touch you when you get behind the wheel of a car.” Kelly whispered softly. “Just do what you do best, babe. Get out there and drive like hell. Life and fate will take care of the rest.”

I just sighed and turned in her arms. I gave the woman that I love a toe curling kiss. “I need to get ready.”

An hour later found us landing in the infield of the circuit. I got a real kick out of the trip to the track today. This was the first time that I got to ride in one of the helicopters. I know that Kelly and Tony weren’t happy that they had to take the car over to the track, but they understood. The short flight from the hotel was part of the publicity for our sponsors. I know that Beth didn’t like the flight for some reason. I know that she has no problems flying normally.

“Beth, what happened with you during that flight? You’ve never been a white knuckle flyer before. Hell, you’ve logged in as many hours flying as I have.”

“Bobbie, if we never have to ride in a helicopter again. I’m calling in sick.” Beth shivered. “I can handle airplanes, but all that glass was just too much for me.”

When Beth said ‘all that glass’ I knew exactly what she was getting at. Beth can climb into a F1 and drive it to the edge with no problem. She can face down just about any jackass in racing leathers. But the second she gets near any place higher than the fourth floor she pisses her panties. Beth has a severe case of Acrophobia. She’s suffered from it for as long as I can remember.

“Sure, Beth no problem. I think I’ll have a talk with our friendly Coordinator. I’ll explain things to him so that he never again puts you on a helicopter.” I told her as I popped my knuckles. “And if I have to, I’ll leave a few speed nots on his forehead to get my point across.”

Beth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Forget about it Bobbie. We both do shit that we don’t like. It’s all part of the life.”

“I know that sis, but we don’t have to bend over for every two-bit request. Remember they need us more than we need them.” I told her as I hugged my sister.

“Thanks for the hug, Bobbie.” She said as she returned hug. When she pulled back, she smiled and looked out at the track. “Have you figured out how you’re going to work your way through the pack yet?”

I shook my head no. I laid out one of Chief Hailee’s newest tricks for our team. A color-coded map. “I won’t know until I get out there today, Beth. That track is going to be greener than hell. I figure between the rain and the track drying equipment all the rubber that was built up over the past few days will be gone. I doubt if anybody is going to be making aggressive moves out there from the start. Not even with the soft rubber tyres.”

“That is not good. Not if I got to hold off the rest of the field on my own.” Beth pointed out. “I’m good at blocking but not that good.”

“Don’t worry about holding off the pack, Beth. Just run your race the way you want. This is one time that we’re going to be working on our own. Team work is out the fucking door today.” I never took my eyes off the map as I traced the course with my finger. “The DSR zones are out of the question. They’re going to be too predictable. They’ll be looking for me to pass there.”

“No, you need to use those zones, Bobbie.” When I went to correct Beth, she put her finger on the first DSR zone. “No, Bobbie listen to me. These zones will be your only secure passing zones. Sure, you can use the turns for one or two passes, but after that, the rest of the field will be onto you. The DRS zones will allow you to pass two or three at a time. Then there’s the straightaways. The easiest point for passing the rest of the field will be on the pit row straightaway.”

“Beth, that straightaway is going to be a fucking traffic jam. Everybody and their brother-in-law is going to be using that straightaway to pass.” I bitched.

“Damn it, Bobbie. THINK!” Beth traced the length of the pit row straightaway. “This is one of widest straightaways on the circuit. You can go full throttle the entire time. As for taking turn one. It’s no worse than Old Miller’s Corner back home.”

I thought about the road and turn that Beth was talking about. Old Miller’s Road was a fifteen mile long, two lain, death trap. It was filled with seven S-curves, two ninety-degree hairpins, three thousand meter straightaways, and one extremely wicked one-eighty down-hill corner with no curb or outside railing. It was one of the few roads that was still used by moonshiners to lose the cops back home. Not to mention certain rat-racers and drug runners. The main reason the road was used by those people, was Old Miller’s Corner. The aforementioned one-eighty down-hill corner. More than a few people have lost their lives on that corner. Turn one was nowhere near as sharp and didn’t have the downhill pitch.

“You think that I can sideslip that turn? I mean it is going to be tight if there is more than one car on turn besides me.” I pointed out.

“Bobbie by the time we get to that point the other drivers are going to be to busy trying to keep up with the changing track conditions. We both already know how the track changes better than the others.” I wanted to contradict Beth, but she was already laying out what we already knew. “For the first seven to eight laps it’ll feel like everybody is driving on marbles out there, especially in the turns. They’ll have to break harder than normal. At least for the first half of the race.”

“How you figure that?” I really wanted to know what she was getting at. Then it hit me. If the other drivers are over-breaking just to get around the track, then the chances for understeering go through the roof. “Oh shit. How many yellow flags is this going to bring out before the track comes to us?”

“I figure some where around five to seven. More than enough for you to gain another three to four positions. If not more.” Beth just smirked as I understood where she was going with her analyses of the race conditions. “If I don’t have to worry about holding off the field like you just suggested. Then I can stretch the other lead drivers out over half the circuit.”

I thought about what Beth was proposing. Her whole strategy was a way for me to get from the back of the pack to the front. The only hitch to her plan was the need for a spotter. One that knew the track and how it would change throughout the course of the race better than any other driver. I knew that neither mom, dad, or Joey were up for this type calling today. Neither was Chief Hailee and Marks. “Do you think Kathy and the Coach can handle this?”

“Bobbie, those two can out call and spot our parents, and the Chiefs. It’s time to take the gloves off. We’ve been playing nice. We’ve raced fair and square. We’ve even given and shown respect, they haven’t earned. And it hasn’t gotten us any respect in return out of some of these fucking drivers.” I could tell that Beth was beyond pissed. She knew that sooner or later we would have to get down and dirty with certain drivers. I just wasn’t sure that we were at that point.

My mind was changed with just seven words. “Today we send you American whores home.”

I turned to see who just pissed in my Wheaties this morning. Of all the drivers currently on the circuit it had be this fuck-nut. “Get the fuck out of my garage Castro. That is unless you want me to rearrange your face.”

“Please, senorita, I would welcome the chance to teach you some manners. But I am a gentleman and do not hit women. Regardless of their questionable honor.” The smug bastard was just standing there smirking as if he was untouchable. The sad part was he was right. To a point anyway.

I didn’t bother with being polite. I got right up in his face. “You and me are going to be at the ass end of the pack Castro. Let’s settle our differences out there. Driver against driver. One on one. You fucking game?”

“Oh, I so want that, senorita. Sadly, that will not be the case. You see I won’t be the one you face today. That honor belongs to Author Kent. He will not be the gentleman that I or any of the others have been with you. Do yourself a favor, senorita. Drop out now and go home where you belong.” The arrogant bastard smirked.

I started to chuckle. I knew exactly what Castro’s team owners had pulled. In a way it was the highest of honors. “You know something Castro, you’re nothing more than a fucking yellow bellied back stabbing coward. As much as I would love to put your ass into the wall you just don’t have the guts to face me like a real man. Instead you and your team have decided to bring a ringer. All because your sorry excuse for an ass couldn’t handle the challenge.”

“What do you mean, bitch?” Castor was pissed now. He was actually getting up in my face. “I can handle any challenge.”

“Why I’m talking about me and my sister. We’re the ones that are putting you sorry excuses for drivers in your places. We’re out there showing the world that you and your butt buddies are nothing more than a bunch of overindulged whinny little bitches.” I was the one to smirk this time. I knew that Castro couldn’t handle the truth. Even if I painted a picture for him.

“I’ll see your ass on the track puta! Then we’ll see who the coward is. And when I cross the finish line and you don’t. You and your sister take your asses home. Where you fucking belong.” Castro went to spit in my face, but Tony stepped between us. I could tell by Tony’s stance that he was just itching to put Castro down hard.

“No, Tony don’t. The fuck wad isn’t worth it.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave Castro a flat look. “Beat it Castro, before my pit crew takes matters into their own hands. They don’t play nice with others.”

Me and the rest of the team watched as Castro stormed out of our garage area. I knew exactly who he was going to see. I turned to Chief Hailee. “Chief do you think that asshole is stupid enough to take matters into his own hands on the track?”

“Bobbie, when we strap you in, don’t fuck with how tight we make the harness. If Castro can’t get back in his car that psycho Author Kent will. The man has no problems with playing dirty.” I gave the old Crew Chief a strange look. “Bobbie, we found out about the change last night. Kent has more than fifteen complaints for unsportsman like conduct. He doesn’t care who he puts into the wall.”

“So I’m facing one of two type out there. An out of control moron or a hired pyscho. Both of which are out to put me in the wall or hospital. To top that off I have to deal with a wet fucking track. Just great. Any more good fucking news?” I snarked.

“Other than the track is past the point of being green. It is wetter than a catfish just pulled from the Little Sandy.” I could tell by the tone of Chief Hailee’s voice that there was something else going on. I waited for the other shoes to drop. When it did, I wished that I was racing somewhere else. “There is also no chance of the track coming back to race conditions before half way through. Even with the track drying equipment everyone is going to be running their wet weather tyres, the intermediate rain tyres. Good for traction, bad for your style of driving.”

“So what? Just put the normal slicks on and I’ll race with those.” I figure that I can still run my own race with the slicks while everyone else runs the rain tyres.

“No, can do, Bobbie. There is standing water everywhere on that track. The Marshals are already double checking to ensure that everybody is at least run their intermediate wet weather tyres. As much as I would love to give you, your slicks that ain’t happening.” I could tell Chief Hailee hated having to go by the Marshals’ orders for rain tyres. “The best we can do is give you the intermediate tyres.”

“Damn. When is Formula One going to upgrade to the NASCAR Air Titan track-drying equipment?” I bitched as I looked out at the still damp track.

“The day that Hell freezes over, Miss McGuire.” I turned to see who was intruding on my pit area this time and smiled. “How you doing Bobbie?”

“Not bad Jack. When did you guys get in?” I asked as I greeted the other five people with Slow Jack. “Hi Stephany, you can find Joey in the trailer with my folks. Sam, Jim, nice to see you guys again. How’s the track back home coming? Are these young ladies your girlfriends? Bobbie McGuire, nice to meet you both.”

Sam chuckled. “Bobbie, I would like you to meet Alison Garver. My fiancée.”

“And this is Rebecka Stone. My fiancée.” Jim answered me with a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. I’m so happy that you all could come.” I held out my hand to the two new comers with a smile. As they shook my hand, I gave the guys a smile. “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars you’re all wondering why I’ve flown you half way around the world? Well, it’s not just so you can watch me stomp the competition. I have some good news for three of you.”

“Bobbie what are you up to?” Jack was giving me the stink eye for some reason.

“Well, it’s kind of like this. You know who my sponsors are right?” I knew that they did. I mean it was all over the news back home. “Well, it seems that they’re looking for a pair of drivers and a Crew Chief.”

“What they firing you and Beth?” Sam jumped to the conclusion that I wanted. “Damn! Talk about getting stupid. We knew you were getting flack from the other F-one drivers, but this is bullshit.”

“No shit! If they were in front of me right now, I’ll tell them exactly what I think of their monumental fuckup!” Jim just spilt the juice he was holding before making that very endearing comment. I just chuckled to myself.

I don’t think I have ever seen Jim without a dip in his mouth. The young man was addicted to snuff, especially his favorite, Copenhagen. I swear Jim goes through at least two tins a week if not more. As far as bad habits go, this is one that I can overlook. There are lot more that I can find fault with, that are a lot worse.

“I never thought I would live to see the day that Hailee, or Marks would be fired. If they think that I can do half the job they can they can go piss up a rope.” Slow Jack spat out before reaching for his bubblegum.

“Glad to hear that you’re on my side guys.” I chuckled. “But neither Beth or me are getting fired. The same goes for our Crew Chiefs.”

Slow Jack opened his pouch and popped a wad of gum into his mouth. “Okay, if they’re not replacing you guys. Then why are they looking for two drivers and a Crew Chief?”

“Ever heard of this little thing call NASCAR?” I asked sweetly. You could have heard pin drop. I just stood there smiling as Jack Stone, Sam Hurley, and James ‘Jim’ Fields stared at me in stunned silence. “Um… I think I just broke them.”

Slow Jack was the first to come out his disbelief as my pit crew chuckled. “Miss McGuire, this had better not be a fucking joke.”

“Jake, I assure you that this is no joke. Mercedes-Benz is looking for two drivers and a Crew Chief for their newest racing adventure. Namely NASCAR.” I gave the man a straight faced answer. I knew that he was leery of Greeks baring gifts. “This is a legitimate offer, Jack. I was approached a few weeks ago about finding the needed drivers and Crew Chief by my sponsors.”

“Why aren’t you making the jump to NASCAR Bobbie? Why would you even suggest us? After all that is where you belong.” Sam figured that they needed a little more background.

Jim wasn’t far behind him with his own doubts. “No kidding. You got all the license to make the transition easily enough. Hell, everybody has all heard about your unofficial track record on the Lady in Black. We know that you’re not afraid.”

I sighed as I knew that my answer was going to either piss them off or they’ll understand. It was a chance that I’ll have to take. “I can’t make the jump to NASCAR guys. AS much as I would love to, I can’t. I just can’t do that to the fan base that Beth and me, have built up in Formula One.”

“Wait a minute. You mean to tell us that your fan base is big enough that it would piss off that many people? Just because you want to drive a Stock Car?” Jim asked in disbelief. “Come on, Bobbie. That has to be a joke. No body builds up that big of a fans base that fucking fast.”

“I’m not fucking joking, Jim. I’m tell you the truth. Just ask Beth.” I said.

“She isn’t joking guys. We’re the fastest rising stars in the sport right now. For several reasons but the first two are the ones that count the most. First, we’re winning. Second, we’re girls. Two things that appeals to young women everywhere in the world. If you doubt us, I’ll show our fan mail. The amount is fucking nuts.” I’m so glad that Beth came to my rescue on this.

We were interrupted by the arrival of Karl Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, Wilhelm Maybach, and Emil Jellinek. I was slightly surprised by the four men being here without their wives. I knew that their wives were here and had been for the last week. Kelly and I have been ducking since they found about our engagement. Thank the good Lord above, these men got the hint to not fuck with out wedding. It’s just their wives that won’t back the fuck off for some reason. Though I think with Kelly’s mom meeting us in Monaco that will come to an end.

“Ah there are our girls. Bobbie, have you given our newest drivers the good news yet?” Karl Benz started off with before the others could.

“Yes, sir I have. They still don’t believe that it is true for some reason. Maybe you can convince them sir?” I asked him politely.

“I think that your friends doubt that our offer is for real, Bobbie. After all our company has never entered a car in the Stock Car field. This will be our first time competing in NASCAR. Until Toyota broke the International barrier it just wasn’t worth our time or money to even try.” Emil Jellinek started the explanation for Jack and the others. I knew that he could sweet talk a snake out of his scales so I wasn’t worried that the guys would walk away.

I want to stand around and listen to the deal that my sponsors were working with the Darlington Knight, but I had more pressing business at hand. Namely, I had to get ready for Driver Introductions, and the race. “Gentlemen, as much as I would love to stay and talk with you all I must leave. I have to finish getting ready for my day. Jack if you have any questions talk to Chief Hailee or Marks. Sam, Jim, talk with my mom and dad if you have questions. Good luck guys.”

Before anyone could say another word Beth and I headed for the team trailer. Once inside Beth ran mom, dad, and Joey out. I grabbed my Nomex gear, Leathers, and headed for my section of the trailer while Beth headed for hers. After stripping down and redressing in my race gear I put in my earbuds and hit play on my iPod. Once the music began to play, I let the world fall away. That was how I spent the next two hours until Joey came to get me for Driver Introductions.

I hate this part of the Race Day Festivities. I don’t mind spending time with the fans afterwards. It’s just that I figure if the fans don’t know who is racing by now then they don’t care. Maybe it’s me and it might be wrong, but all I want to do on Race Day is race. It takes me more and more time to get into the right mind set for each race for some reason. I spent some time with my fans after Introductions before heading back to the trailer. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I needed to get my headspace right if I was going to pull off Beth’s plan.

Joey has to come get me for the National Anthem and call to cars. As I stand there listening to the music, I want to just shut everything out. I can almost feel the boney grip of that stone cold bastard on my shoulder. I can smell his cold stale breath on the back of my neck. I hear his sickening sweet words of welcome. I can almost see his face with broad tooth filled grin of his. He’s out there somewhere on the track today. The Devil’s Bounty Hunter has come for his due. Today someone is going to die and there is nothing that we poor mortals can do to change that.

When I’m finally allowed to climb into my car Danny and Chief Hailee both double check my straps. Before I slip my earbuds in Chief Hailee stops me. “Where’s your head at Bobbie? You got that look in your eye. What’s going on?”

I couldn’t lie to the man. “HE’s out there Chief. Waiting. Someone isn’t going home today. Can’t you feel it?”

Chief Hailee gave me a hard look then placed his hand on my shoulder. “Get your head in the game. There is no supernatural boogieman out there. This is a nothing more than another race, just like all the others.”

I know that Chief Hailee is trying to calm my nerves. That he thinks I’m spooked. That I’m imagining shit. The problem is I’m not nervous. I’m not spooked. I’m definitely not imagining shit. You see when you’re a Childhood Leukemia survivor you can tell when Death is around. I saw one too many kids my age never make it to their eighteenth birthday. Fuck there were a few that never saw their twelfth birthday. So, fuck yes, I know what the presence of Death feels like.

I look up at Chief Hailee. “Sure, Chief I get it. Don’t worry I got my head in the fucking game. Now shut up, hand me my helmet and fire up the fucking engine. I got a race to win, somehow.”

Chief Hailee just sighed and did as I asked. With gloves and helmet in place I hit the play button on my music. As the opening notes to ‘No Surrender’ by Judas Priest fill my ears the speed demon that is my engine comes to life once more. Up and down pit row starters are rushing to get out of the way. I feel the hate come once more. With the hate comes a calm that I know only when pushing myself to the edge. Today I will beat these rat bastards at their own game. These men want me either off the circuit or dead. Castro and his cronies have been doing everything they can to force me out of the Formula One world. Time to make them pay.

We roll out for the warmup and I notice that the lead cars are already taking the corners with more caution than normal. I feel the smile creep across my face. With each turn the track revels more and more of its nastiness to me. I let my ass end slide a little in each corner feeling out where the apex points are now. Oh yes, the track has changed. It may be laid out same as always, but the power points have changed. I know by the time we round turn sixteen that Beth had nailed the track down perfectly. She was definitely living up to our nickname as the Ice Queens. By the time we made our second trip around the track I knew where I would be making every pass and block through the race.

As we lined up for the start I was greeted by a new tune on my iPod. Another Judas Priest song ‘Never the Heroes’ filled my earbuds and soul. When the lights flashed, I dropped the harmer and powered my way past the eighteenth through fifteenth placed cars. I know that I was pushing it but didn’t care. If these bastards won’t show me the respect that I have earned. Then I’ll fucking take it, or put their asses in the wall. I was way past the point of caring anymore. The field hits turn 1 and start breaking hard. I don’t. I slide into a partial drift and take the corner at close to half power. I know that I just scared the crap out of two drivers pulling that stunt but don’t care. I need to get to the front and their ALL in MY way.

For the next seven laps I play nice and just hold my position. I wait and bide my time. Lap 8, turn 9 comes up and I drop the hammer again. I know that the uphill turn will force most drivers to break hard again. Again, I hit the turn in a power slide. I spot my first asshole close to the apex of turn 9. Castro wanted to play the big bad thug with me in the pits. A place where his size would have been the deciding factor in a fight. Out here it’s not size that matters. It’s skill. Something that I have in spades. While he was learning to drive on Formula One race courses, I was back home rat racing on the backwoods roads of America.

The place where NASCAR got its start. Bootleggers out running the local cops and FBI. A place where the roads have more twists and turns than a snake with a hangover. Places like West Virginia where mountain roads have hairpin turns with no guardrail. South Carolina where a straightaway on a road has more ups and downs than a roller-coaster. Louisiana where the roads just end at a swamp then pickup on the other side. Georgia where the roads go from blacktop to red clay for no reason. These are the places that I learn to race on. The other drivers think that I have no place out with them because I’m first a woman, second an American.

Today they will learn the error of their thinking. Even if one of them has to die to drive that point home. I can smell the foul stench of brimstone that precedes the Devil’s Bounty Hunter now. I can hear the hoofbeats of his Nightmare steed over the driving beat of my music. I can feel the boney fingers of his hand reaching out for some poor soul even now as we power down the back straightaway heading for turn 10. I check my rearview mirror. I’m slightly surprised to see Castro is still there.

We hit turn 10 and I’m forced to break for the turn thanks to the car in front of me. The asshole couldn’t make the turn and slid off into the gravel. Fuck the Marshals are going to through a yellow flag. I just know it. Yup there it is. My radio crackles to life.

“Back it down Bobbie. We got a full track yellow. Hurts and Carmicle both plowed in on turn thirteen, and we got Hernandez in the gravel on turn ten.” Kathy told me with more than a little disgust in her voice. “They all overpowered the turns.”

“Gotcha, Kathy. Where is Beth?” I needed to know if she was still where she started.

“Beth has climbed into fourth place and was threatening to overtake third on the next lap. If not this one.” I could tell by the tone of her voice that Kathy was smiling. When she smiles it only means good things for the team.

“Copy that, Kathy. Let me know the second she has the lead drivers spread out.” I figured that she needed to know what we were up to.

“Can do, but Bobbie you have half the field between you and her.” I could tell that she didn’t think there was anyway for me to catch up to Beth.

“Don’t worry about that, Kathy. I’ve been biding my time. Once that yellow flag goes away just keep me appraised of where Beth is. I got the rest under control.”

I had no sooner finished telling Kathy that I had shit under control than mom popped up on the radio. And she was pissed. “Roberta Lee, you will listen to your gods be damn spotter or I’ll yank your sorry ass out of that car.”

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.” I didn’t need an anvil to drop on my head. Mom spotted something that I hadn’t and she was placing her trust in Kathy and her mom. I figure that I should be doing the same as I was the one that vouched for them to be our spotters. People think that a driver is out here all alone. We’re not. There is a voice that keeps us calm and on track to win. There is person right there in the cockpit with you for every neck breaking turn. Every pit stop. Every pass or block made in the race. They are the unsung heroes of racing. The spotters.

They spend as much time if not more, studying tracks. They learn every curve, each straightaway. They have to know each little detail of a course. They earn their pay with the purpose build tracks. It is only the road or street courses where they are hampered. Those courses you have to have more than just one spotter. You have to have one on every turn and straightaway for the road or street courses. I know that Kathy has been watching the track like a hawk.

“Okay Kathy, what do you see that I don’t?”

“Turns one and two are starting to build rubber, the rest of the first section not so much. When you come off turn eight watch for ponding water at the base of the rise to turn nine. I know what you’re think, but water has slowly been building up in that spot from the begining of the race. And whatever you do, don’t try that slide pass on turn nine again. They’re already looking for you to try it. Time to shift over to the DRS zones and the straightaways.”

“Son of a bitch anymore good news? It sounds like the other teams have our play book. What the fuck happened?” I bitched.

“That asshole Newcastle from Renault has been studying your driving style hard. He tried your power-slide pass on turn fifteen and made it work. That’s what happened. He has been passing on his info to the other drivers. Bobbie the hardcores really making a run at putting you and Beth out for the rest of the season.” The more I heard the madder I got.

As we rounded turn sixteen for the second time the green flag was dropped, and we went back to racing. The last time we went green I passed three of my competitors. This time I did a little than just pass someone. I drove right down the middle of the field. I forced my way past six stupid son-of-bitches before they ever realized I was in their blind spots and diving hard for turn 1. I took the inside edge as if on rails. Power snapped the rear end around and block the rest of the field from using turn 2 to make up ground. It took fourteen laps but I was now in the top ten.

I use the outside edge of that long turn 3 to pass two more cars. I can already tell that most of the hardcore assholes are up front. The guys that I have been passing so far have the good manners to get the fuck out of my way and not make me force the issue with them. As we round turn 8, I see what Kathy was talking about. I watch as the car in front of me sprays water a good ten feet in the air. I hit the ponding water just as hard and have to fight to keep from hydroplaning.

That is the only thing that keeps me from plowing into the car in front of me as I crest turn 9 going into the apex. I have slam on the breaks hard and gear down as fast as I can. The dumb shit was sliding sideways across the track. He hit the apex and started to hydroplane. I watch and pray that he doesn’t buy the farm as I actually like the guy. For an Aussie he’s and alright kind of guy. Bit loud at times but I like him anyway. Thankfully he pulls out of the slide and it gives me a chance to pass without further incident. I know that is harsh, but this is racing.

One man’s misfortune is another’s golden opportunity. For the next five laps the track gets tighter, and tighter. It has finally started to dry out. Chief Hailee and Marks have been keep a hard eye on the track conditions though out the race. I know those two men will make the call any lap now for a change over to the slicks. The only question will be what grade they want to run. I get two more passes in before Chief Hailee calls Beth in for a change of tyres.

I round turn 16 and see Beth pulling out of the pits at full throttle. Perfect time for a little sister bonding time. I key my mike. “Okay sis you read for some two on one action?”

“Holy shit where the fuck did you come from?” Was all Beth asked.

“Ask her no questions and she’ll tell you no lies. Just go with the flow Beth.” Once again mom came up on the radio. “Drop the hammer girls. You got two laps before Bobbie will need new tyres, Beth. So, make the most of it.”

The fact that mom was telling us to take off the gloves just made it all the sweeter. We had barely cleared turn 1 when Judas Priest’s ‘Hellrider’ began to pound in my ears. We pulled up on the ass end of the fourth place car and split him. Beth went to the inside and I went to the outside. We boxed the poor bastard in and left him with nothing to do but break. With him in our rearview we went after second place. Once again, we boxed in our prey. Only this time we did it going into turn 5. Not the easiest thing to do on such a tight hairpin turn. Still, we got the job done. He fell to our team work. We were second and third with first place in our sights. We had just reach the bottom of the rise for turn 9 when the red flag came out. We both started breaking hard as we knew that the wreck had to be just over the rise at the apex of the turn.

Kathy and Coach Hall’s excited screams confirmed this. “BREAK! BREAK NOW! DON’T TAKE THAT TURN AT SPEED! BREAK! BREAK!”

It took all of mine and Beth’s skills to bring our cars to a full stop before the apex of turn 9. We were sliding sideways by the time we got stopped. Thankfully the drivers behind us had more time to slow their cars and bring them to a stop or the wreck would have been worse. I could already tell that the emergency crews were going to be too late. The wrecked car was fully engulfed in flames and upside down. There was no way in hell that driver was going to survive.

“Bobbie, Beth, the Marshals are ordering all cars off the track. You are to back track to the pits. Once there you are to shut down your engines. The race has been cancelled. Bobbie, they’re scoring you in first place and the winner. Beth you’re in second place. Before you ask for the reason why don’t. Just do what you’re told.” I could tell by Chief Hailee’s voice that the reason was not good.

It took another fifteen minutes to get things straightened out. And another five before we were finally back on pit row. Once there I shutdown my engine as ordered. It took both Danny and Kelly to get me out of the car. I didn’t want to move. Not after what I had seen and heard on that turn. Not even in my worst nightmares had I ever dreamed of a death like that. Burning to death is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. I didn’t even know who it was and I already felt the need to throw up. AS I climbed out of my car the Marshals were climbing all over it.

“What the fuck Chief? They seriously can’t believe that we had something to do with that wreck. We weren’t even in position to threaten the guy in that turn.” I began to plead our case before the Marshals could throw us off the circuit.

“Excuse us, Miss McGuire, but we’re not impounding your car. We need to see that new fuel cell of yours. This is the sixth fuel cell to fail this season. Your team has been in one of the worse wrecks and your fuel cell survived intact.” The senior Marshal said quickly to put me at easy. Not that it helped.

I had just watched a man burn to death. I knew that the Devil’s Bounty Hunter was out there today. I knew he was looking for someone to collect, but I thought it would be me. Not someone else. I didn’t even know who was in the car.

“Sir, you can have the design for our fuel cells. I don’t care if my mother objects. Pull that fucking thing and copy it. Keeping its safety features aren’t worth another person’s life. If my mother gives you any shit tell her I said to fuck off.” I had no sooner finished my little act of rebellion before I had to rush for the nearest trashcan. That’s where my mother found me ten minutes later. I now had an empty stomach, a dry throat, and a nasty taste in my mouth.

For once no one came around to congratulate me on my win. I don’t think that anybody was in the mood to celebrate anyway. Mom hand me a bottle of water and two aspirin. As I fought to get the aspirin down mom told me who died. When I heard the man’s name I wanted to cry. I may not have liked the guy but he at least raced me fair and square, always showing me and Beth the respect we had earned. “Mom, did he have any family? You know, wife and kids.”

“No dear. Robert Campbell was single with no family. I think his parents died a few years ago, and he was an only child.” Mom rubbed my back helping me to calm down. “You saw the tank go up, didn’t you?”

“I was less than twenty feet from him when that fuel cell failed.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. I shivered and confessed something that I really didn’t want to. “Mom, I could hear his screams over my engine and everything.”

“You going to be alright for the victory party tonight?” Mom was truly concerned if she was asking that question. I thought about and shook my head no. “Do you need to talk to Shelly?”

I didn’t have to think twice about that question. For the first time in a long time I needed someone who knew me better than my parents. “Yes.”

Mom didn’t even think about it she just helped me to stand up and walked me over to the team trailer. Once inside she pulled out the satphone. She handed it to me and said one word as she walked back out. “Call.”

As she got the end of the trailer, I called out to her. “Hey, mom. By chance you didn’t pack my emergency buddy, did you?”

“Big closet, top shelf. In the hatbox, baby.” Mom had stopped and turned back to face me as she answered the question. “I kind of figured that you would need him sooner or later. You’ll never be far from him love.”

With that mom walked out the trailer, closing the door behind her. I quickly went to the family team locker or Big closet. I found what I was looking for Just like mom said I would. I took down the hatbox opening it to find my old nightmare buddy Sylvester. I know that most people have a teddy bear, but I have a stuffed Sylvester the cat. Mainly because I always wanted him to catch that annoying Tweety. With Sylvester in my arms I head for my compartment and call Shelly’s emergency line. I’m not going to look forward to her bill this month but fuck it. I’ve got the money and I won’t mind paying her bill if she can help me now.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 23
Silverstone Great Britain

I was more than a little surprised by the changes made by F1A over the last few weeks. I knew that Formula 1 teams could make massive alterations to their cars overnight. What I have seen goes beyond what even I could expect. In just a few short weeks the other teams were able to not only take the design of our safer fuel cell but produce enough of them to outfit each car with a main and a spare. I was even more amazed that those new fuel cells were waiting for their teams at Heathrow Airport.

I’ve heard more than a few of the other drivers thanking my mom and dad for giving up the design specs for those new fuel cells. To me those thanks made up for mine and Beth’s less than stellar performance over the last few races. We barely qualified for Monaco. Montreal was a total waste with neither of us placing higher than Beth in 12th. Le Castellet Beth finished dead last while I placed 19th. As for Spielberg Austria, let’s just say that I would have preferred to have skipped that fucking race. We may have placed in the teens, but that was just barely. I know that part of the problem has been Barcelona and the effect that race had on both of us.

Neither of us have been sleeping too good since then. I got so bad that mom offered to pay for Sharron’s plane ticket to meet with us in Canada. Hell, I was almost tempted to cover her flight myself. I do know that I have run up a massive bill in roving charges on my cell phone. After the second night of sweat drenching, bed pissing, scream inducing, nightmares, I was half tempted to sign Sharron on as part of our team. I know that Kelly would support me if I got her to sign as the team shrink. I think the one thing that has kept me from going completely around the bend, besides my nightly chats with Sharron, is my morning runs with Coach Hall or Kathy. I know that the two of them have found me more than once in the hotel gyms.

After yesterday’s qualifying rounds I think we might have rounded a turn. I’m just happy that our sponsors haven’t pulled out. Then again, our team is still holding the top position in the Builder’s Race. We may have slipped in the driver’s points some but we’re still on top. The problem is the other drivers have been cutting into our lead big time. Those four races really hit us hard. Both in points and our confidence. Then yesterday for the first time sense Barcelona Beth had one hell of a qualifying run. She posted the second fastest qualifying time ever, she just missed tying the Silverstone record by one-one-hundredth of a second. Me, I was just happy with qualifying in third place. Not bad really.

“Hey, sis. You just going to stand there all day staring at the track?” I chuckled as I turned to find Joey standing behind me. “It’s not like you don’t know every inch of this track. I swear you and Beth have been pouring over those maps and watching those films nonstop. Not too mention running the track every morning and evening.”

I just chuckled. “I hear you Joey. You know for the first time since Spain I truly feel like racing today.”

“Then it’s about fucking time, young lady.” I spun on my heel to find mom standing behind one of the toolboxes. The fact that she just used a curse word had my undivided attention. “You’ve been holding back long enough, dear. Care to tell me why you finally decided to get back in the saddle?”

I looked back out at the track named Silverstone. The Home of British Motor Racing and one of the great cathedrals of motorsport. The one track that holds the names more legends than any other. This track also holds a special place in my heart. I may have been drawn to the sport by the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve race, but it was Silverstone that made me a true fan. The only other track that holds a greater importance for me is Austin, Texas. The only Formula 1 race held in the USA. I looked back at mom and sadly smiled as I gave her a one word answer. “Lisa.”

“Hold up here love. You do know that you and Kelly are due to be married soon? Do you really think that Kelly would find it acceptable that you’re out there racing for an old girlfriend?” Mom smirked.

“It’s not that mom.” I whined. “This is the race that Lisa challenged me to win just for her after she found out about my contract.”

“I know kiddo. I just don’t want you pushing yourself out there day. Remember we got fifty-two laps to cover just over three-hundred-and-six kilometers. Not to mention the warmup laps. You’re third in the field. Right behind your sister. This is your type of track. Fast with wide open turns. More than eighty percent of that track is still the old airbase perimeter road.” I wanted to laugh at the way mom was talking about the track. But she was right. “I think you can close your eyes and walk me around the track, dear?”

I didn’t even think twice about her challenge. I closed my eyes and thought about Silverstone. “The start of the race is located between Club Corner and Abbey Corner on International Pit Straightaway. The almost flat out, right-hand turn of Abbey leads immediately into the left-hand turn of Farm before cars brake heavily into the second-gear for the right-hander of Village Corner. The even slower left-hander of the Loop comes immediately afterwards. It leads into the flat-out left-hander of Aintree. From there cars head down the DRS zone of the Wellington Straight, designed in twenty-ten to promote overtaking on the track. Turn number six, the left-hander of Brooklands, is a nasty second gear turn and leads immediately into Luffield. A low speed second-gear curve, in the opposite direction. The right-handed turn is a wicked hairpin. Up next is the right-handed kink of Woodcote.”

I keep my eyes shut and let the smile come to my face as I go over the track in my head. I can see the next section in my head clear as day. “This leads cars down the old pit straightaway, National Pit Straightaway before the difficult sixth-gear right-hander of Copse, with a minimum ass kicking speed of one-seventy-five when dry. The challenging complex of Maggotts, Becketts and Chapel come out of nowhere. They’re a left–right–left–right–left complex. The minimum speed through here is usually one-hundred-thirty. The exit off the last left-hand turn leads the cars down the seven-hundred-seventy-meters of Hangar Straightaway. This is one of the fastest straightaways that ends with the fifth-gear right-hand corner of Stowe at the end.”

I heard the chuckle from mom, and Joey as I finished going over the last part of the track. They knew that I had the track down perfect. “The fifteenth turn of the track, better known as Stowe, has a minimum speed of one-hundred-twenty-five. The turn drops out onto a short straightaway, named the Vale. The Vale leads cars downhill towards the Club complex. Heavy braking is required for the hard left-hander of turn sixteen. Understeer can be an issue for the next two right-hand turns of seventeen and eighteen, as drivers tentatively accelerate round to the start–finish line of International Pit Straightaway. If you’re not careful you can lose the race between the Club Complex Chicane and Abby Corner on International Pit Straightaway.”

When I opened my eyes my parents, Kelly, Beth, and Joey stood there clapping their hands. They weren’t the only ones either. More than half the team had joined my family as I went over Silverstone in my head turn by turn, straightaways to pit row, start to finish. Even three of the other drivers were standing there clapping their hands. Talk about embarrassing. I let my smartass bone shine. I smiled and gave them a small curtsy.

“I have to say Miss McGuire. You have an extremely technological grasp of Silverstone.” Robert McNairy said as he walked up to shake my hand. “I do wonder if you grasp the beauty and truly historical nature of this place?”

I have to give the British driver this much. This was his home track and if anyone knew the true nature of Silverstone. It would be him. He was also one of the first drivers to accept me and Beth on the circuit as equals. That is another thing. The attitude of most drivers has changed over the last few weeks. There are still a few Old World drivers that don’t want us here, but they are firmly in the minority now.

“Mr. McNairy, I won’t even try to grasp the significance of this particular raceway in words.” I told him honestly. Then smiled to take any sting out of my words. “I’m a racecar driver sir, not a poet.”

McNairy just clapped his hands again. “Well, said young lady.” Then he looked out at the track. “Before she became the home to British motorsports. This grand lady started life as a World War Two Royal Air Force bomber base.”

“Excuse me sir, but did you just say that Silverstone was at one time a World War Two bomber base? How did it go from that to this?” Joey asked McNairy with respect and surprise at hearing this tiny bit of history.

“We have Wilfred Andrews, and the RAC to thank for that young man. It was his vision of a British Grand Prix on the roads of Great Britain. Sadly, there wasn’t a possibility of closing the public highway as what could happen on the Isle of Man, or the Channel Islands. The years following the war were a time of extreme austerity for the British. There was absolutely no question of building a new circuit from scratch. Andrews and the RAC had to find a viable alternative. This was where the Royal Automotive Club and the Royal Air Force became the best of friends.” Joey wasn’t the only one drawn in McNairy’s history lesson. Practically everyone in our pit area was listening to the man as he told the history of Silverstone.

“Wait a minute here Robert. Are you saying that one of the oldest racing tracks in the world is a combat veteran?” Anthony Lacasse asked in total surprise. I knew that the Italian driver was anything but stupid. So, his surprise was genuine to say the least.

“RAF Silverstone was home to the Seventeenth Operational Training Unit RAF operating the Vickers Wellington bomber. During the war years this Grand Lady trained a great many of our pilots to carry the fight to the Nazis.” There was a sense of pride in McNairy’s voice for the history of Silverstone. Of all the tracks I think this is the only one that started life as warrior.

“McNairy, I have to say that you truly have surprised me. I’ve never really thought about the history of our sport.” Lacasse expressed my feelings as well as for a few others in the pit area. “Is Silverstone the only circuit that holds such a fascination for you?”

McNairy started chuckling. “I guess you could that say I’m the unofficial Historian for our sport Anthony. Don’t worry though, after you’ve been around for as long as I have. They’ll start seeing you as the ‘old man’.” He then looked over at me and smirked. “Or ‘old lady’.”

I just bowed my head and chuckled. He was right. McNairy was currently the oldest driver on the circuit. Robert McNairy has been racing for longer than just about every driver there is. No matter what automotive sport they’re in. According to mom, McNairy is just short of fifty and he’s been driving since he was twenty. He has also constantly been my biggest competitor. Needless to say, he has had my respect from day one. He was also one of the first to return the respect that Beth and I have shown the other drivers.

“You know something Mister McNairy. For a British rogue, you’re quite the gentleman.” I turned sad as I remembered who his old partner was. “Um… sir, I would like to give you my condolences for Robert Campbell. I understand that he was more than just a team mate for you.”

The older man sighed before looking me in the eye. “Rob was almost like a son to me and a kid brother to the other members of our team. After his folks died, we were all that he had. He was always at one member of the team’s homes during our downtime. I will say this much, he truly respected you and your sister. Not just as women but as fellow drivers.”

“Trust me, sir. We know. He was a true sportsman. He always gave his best both on and off the track.” I looked down at my feet and crossed my hands at my waist. “Sir, I hope you understand why I didn’t show up at the funeral?”

“You’re forgiven young lady.” McNairy gave me a reassuring smile. “I fully understand your reasons for not being there. A young person shouldn’t have to face death like that. The flowers you sent were a fitting tribute.”

The flowers McNairy was talking about were sixty-eight white roses, one for each race that Campbell had participated in shaped in wreath. It was mom who suggested the design. Kelly was the one to hold me while I ordered the flowers. It was my family that got me through the televised funeral. In his rather short racing career Robert Campbell had become a national hero.

McNairy must have noticed something as my attitude became somber. “Sorry. I forgot that you’re a cancer survivor. You must have faced your very own death more than once in your young life already.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I mumbled.

“Take some advice young lady.” I just nodded my head. I would always take advice from someone whose been racing longer than I’ve been alive. “Stop trying to out run the Bounty Hunter. Trust me young lady, in the end it doesn’t matter how hard you try, he always wins.”

I wanted to argue with the man, but he was right. You can only outrun the Bounty Hunter for just so long. He and his posse always get their due. Charon, Thanatos, the Grim Reaper, the Devil’s Bounty Hunter, whatever name you use, Death always wins in the end. I should know I’ve seen it enough times on the children’s cancer ward of USMC.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, sir. I think that the number is somewhere around fifteen now.” I heard a few chuckles and looked over my shoulder at my friends and family. Not to mention my pit crew. “Okay, let me correct that number to somewhere around fifty to sixty.”

“That’s just the people who know and love you, dear.” Kelly said sweetly as she walked up and slipped her arm through mine. “The problem is you’re just too stubborn to know any better.”

“I am not stubborn. I just refused to back down from a challenge.” I countered figuring that I had grounds for my argument. After all I survived cancer because I refused to give up and die thanks to Sharon.

“That’s for damned sure.” Danny popped off. “I think the only time you’ve ever backed down was when you thought the challenge wasn’t worth your time.”

“Not true, Danny.” Kelly snapped. “She’s walked away from plenty of stupid challenges. Ones that were nothing more than comparing dick sizes.”

Her comment about ‘dick sizes’ elected a few chuckles along with a slight blush from McNairy and Lacasse. To them and the rest of the world I was a young late teenage woman that knew how to drive a Formula 1 race car. I understood the reasons behind that stupid clause in my contract. It is hard to convince people that you’re really a boy when you look more like a girl thanks to your measurements and size. As much as I wanted to say that I’ve only whipped it out once to prove that I’m male. There was one too many people around that didn’t know my secret.

“Miss McGuire I truly hope that you and your fiancée have a long and wonderful life together. As I fear there is no man that could ever keep up with her.” Lacasse told us with a smirk. I blushed while Kelly giggled.

“I have to agree. They do make a lovely couple. And Miss Ringwald’s playful sense of humor definitely offsets Miss McGuire’s too serious nature.” McNairy said to Lacasse. I wanted to argue with them both, but they were basically right. Kelly did keep me on an even keel. Well most of the time. “I do hope that you young ladies are going to send out invitations to the wedding.”

“Don’t worry Mister McNairy, you should be receiving the invitation shortly. There are only a few drivers that we’re not inviting.” Kelly snarled out the last part as she looked over at two of the last three drivers to have a problem with me and Beth. “To be blunt there are only three that ain’t welcome. I won’t piss on them if they were on fire.”

“Let it go, Kelly. They’re not worth it.” I patted her hand. This time I was the one to snarl. “Besides, when the race starts, I’ll drive their asses into the ground. As long as they race clean, no problems. They come after me they’ll learn just like the others that I don’t play fair.”

“Miss McGuire, I disagree. You have always played fair. Until the other side tried to get stupid. Then you happily show them the errors of their ways. I will be honest. When you and your sister first showed up in Melbourne, I was one of those who doubted your abilities. Then I watched as you young ladies not only win the race but did so solely on your abilities to out drive those around you.” I was shocked at hearing Lacasse admit to his feelings about me and Beth. “You two young ladies impressed a good number of other drivers that day. Not just McNairy and I.”

“They’re not the only ones, Miss McGuire.” I turned to the one driver that I never expected to see in my pit area in a friendly manner Pedro Rodríguez. “I am the first to admit that there are a few of our fellow drivers need lessons in manners, and sportsmanship. I will say this. You and your sister are not among their number.”

“Senior Rodríguez.” I began with a slight bow to the second oldest driver on the circuit. “We have only tried to compete fairly and honestly.”

“That you have. Unlike a few of our fellow drivers.” Rodríguez actually looked in the direction of two of my biggest pains in the ass Author Kent and Ramon Castro. “Those TWO are sorely in need of life altering beatings.”

I wasn’t the only one to sputter over Rodríguez’s comment. I think everyone in my pit area was stunned by the man’s change of attitude. Until a few weeks ago he was one of the drivers that wasn’t on my side. He wasn’t all-out against me, but he definitely wasn’t one of my friends. For him to be here now, like this, was way beyond anything I would ever expect. His anger towards Kent and Castro was something I never expected.

“We’ve offered to hand those out, Senior Rodríguez. For some reason they just haven’t been willing to take the offer.” Tony snarked.

“So, I’ve heard young man. I’m also not surprised that they have turned you and your countrymen down. Kent may be loco en la cabeza, but he is not stupid. That honor goes to Castro. He is still not happy with the way things ended at Barcelona. I hear he is still trying to blame you and your sister for that crash. The fool.” Everyone could tell that Rodriguez wasn’t proud of his fellow countryman, and his teammate.

Not that I gave a shit about the two. I knew that they were nowhere near as good as they thought they were. If they were then they would be the ones in the points lead and not us. As it was the two of them were halfway down the driver points standings with no way of catching up to us. They would have to win the next five races to climb their way up far enough to challenge us.

“He’s not a fool. The man is just plain stupid and incompetent.” I turned to find another new face in our pit area, Ivan VolKov. Ivan spat on the garage floor. “He is much like the old Communist Party commissars.”

This peeked my attention. “Why would you say that sir?”

“He is like all of those pigs. Wanting honors that he does not deserve. While not showing respect to those who have earned it.” Ivan explained as if it was common knowledge. I could tell that this was a sore topic for the man. He gave me and Beth a sly smile. “Unlike you young ladies. You have earned all of the honors we can give you.”

“I don’t know about honors sir. We just want to go fast, and have fun doing it. The fact that we get paid for doing something we love is just icing on the cake.” Beth told him with a smirk.

“The problem is we just can’t slow down once we get going.” I had to get in on the fun. I already knew where Beth was going. “We got the speeding tickets to prove it. Just ask our team mates.”

My comment about speeding tickets had the desired effect on my teams as they started to chuckle. The other four drivers just looked at my team before joining them. Ivan slapped me in the back letting his laughter roar. Ivan may be the biggest driver currently on the circuit, but he was smaller then most of the males on my pit crew. Not that it mattered as he was still bigger than me and that slap hurt.

The overhead speaker crackled. “Ladies and gentlemen, would all drivers please report for driver introductions. We say again all drivers please report for introductions.”

I smiled gave Kelly a kiss before joining Beth and the other drivers for the introductions. After introductions came the parade, with the anthem coming shortly thereafter. With the parade and anthem out of the way there was the fan meet and greet. It when the final call to mount our cars came. I was way pass the point of being anxious. I had my earbuds in before even reaching my car. Even as I was climbing into the cockpit, I started to feel the adrenalin rushing into my veins.

Kelly leans in to give me a kiss that ignites my passions while Danny takes his time to strap me in tight. When Kelly pulls back, she hands me my balaclava, glove liners, and gloves. The last item she hands me is my helmet. “Win this one for Lisa, love.”

Once I was ready, I gave Chief Hailee a thumbs up and flipped the ignition switch. Chief Hailee signaled Tommy and the engine came to life. Once again, I feel more than hear the purr of the demon. Even before I can shift into first gear the monster is lurching at its chains. Once again begging to break free of its bonds and vent its rage.

For the first time in months I feel the smile come once more to my lips. I don’t really know what has changed in past few hours. I just know that I no longer feel the dread that had paralyzed me for the past weeks. The fear is still there, but it no longer controls me. As we pull out for the warmup lap, I can tell that this race belongs to me. To me alone and it is mine to lose. Beth may have the pole position, but I have the better car. Not only the better car, but I’m the better driver.

Even as we round the first turn, I know the track has changed. I can tell that the track surface is hotter than yesterday. The setup I had for the qualifying runs will need to be changed with the first tyre change. I’ll need more down force in the turns. This is a fast track. I can run the powerplant close to its max through the first section. It’ll be sections two and three that I’ll need to watch my speed. Even then I’ll be able to push the car harder than I did during qualifying.

My radio comes to life for the first time as Kathy starts laying out the field for me. “Listen up Bobbie. Only Beth and McNairy are ahead of you. The rest of the field will have to fight their way up to just challenge you once you round Abby Corner. If you don’t miss your shifts that is.”

“Eat me, Kathy.” I snapped back. I was in the mood to go fast.

“Damn girl! What’s got into you? You’re sounding feisty today.” I could hear the giggle in her voice and knew that she was ready to call the race for me.

“Let’s just say that I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. Okay?” I knew that she would understand. Of all the girls on our team outside of Beth and Kelly, Kathy had been there when I was at my sickest.

“About time you decided to take back your life. Now, listen up. The track temp is a lot hotter than yesterday. You’ll need to take care of your tyres. No slide slipping or drifting today if you can avoid it. The turns have a healthy buildup of rubber thanks to the past few days. You should be able to hold the inside line all the way around. Only use the outside for passing and blocking. As for the straightaways keep your foot down until the last second. That’s where you’ll make up the most time.”

“Copy that, Kathy. Just do me one favor keep an eye out for Castor and Kent. I have a feeling that if they get the chance, they’ll try something.” I knew that I didn’t have to tell her that. I just didn’t trust those two.

“I already got them in my sights, Bobbie. Don’t you worry about them though. You just run your race. Leave those jackasses to me and mom.” The radio went dead as we rounded the last turn and started to line up for the start.

Once stopped behind Beth, I reach down and hit the play button on my iPod. The first whistled notes of Rammstein’s Engel sound in my ears. I can tighten my grip on the wheel at the first stirrings of the base guitar. With a gentle touch I caress the peddle shitter when the lead guitar came in. The sounds of the music push my already forming adrenaline rush even higher. Almost to the point that I’m close to coming in my panties. When the green flag drops Beth takes off with McNairy hot on her heels.

I held back blocking Sorenson as we entered Abby Corner. I wanted to give Beth the chance to clear McNairy and open up her lead. I didn’t care if Beth led a few laps. Hell, I didn’t care if she led the whole race. It won’t matter in the long run. Because by the end of the day. It would be my car that crosses that finish line first. We exited Abby Corner with the left-hand corner of Farm coming on faster than I expected. I watched Beth closely as she went for the inside curb hard. I knew that she was trying to block McNairy. I also knew that it wouldn’t work. This was his home track.

When we exited Farm, I was more than slightly surprised to see Beth still in the lead. McNairy should have over taken Beth halfway through the turn. It didn’t make sense. Something has to be wrong. Either that or McNairy is playing with my sister. As we enter the first DSR zone just before the Village turn, I excepted to see McNairy pass Beth or at least challenge her. Again, nothing happened. That’s when I noticed something. Either McNairy was falling back, or I was gaining on the man faster than expected.

I looked into my rearview mirror for Sorenson and the man wasn’t there. “Kathy where the hell is Sorenson?”

“Don’t worry about him, Bobbie.” Kathy snapped. “Just keep your eyes on McNairy. You’ll be on his ass by the time you reach Wellington straightaway.”

Damn. That was faster than I planned on. If I reach him on Wellington, then it’ll be a drag race between the two of us to Brooklands corner. Damn it. I do not want to try to pass McNairy on the straightaway. As we come out of the hairpin turn that is called the Loop, I spot something in the way McNairy is driving. “Son of a bitch. Kathy is McNairy trying to drift?”

“It looks that way, Bobbie. That’s why I told you to keep your eyes on him.” I could tell by Kathy’s tone that something was worrying her.

“What’s bothering you Kathy?”

“Besides you and Beth. How many of the other drivers do you know that can drift? I don’t mean by accident but the way you two can.” Now I understood Kathy’s worry. These were professional drivers. For someone of McNairy’s caliber to be trying something new was not good for me. It could only mean one thing. They were on to mine and Beth’s driving style.

“Maybe, half the field if not more, Kathy. Remember that more than a few of these guys carry tickets for other motorsports. Hell, Sorenson has his ticket for MotoGP, Moto-two, and Moto-three. Not to mention Drift and Indy.” I must have impressed Kathy because she went silent for a few seconds. It might have been because I was busy with powering down the Wellington Straightaway.

Kathy was right, I was right on McNairy’s ass and having to fight to keep from running him over. It happened just the way I figured it would. McNairy and I got into a drag race heading for Brooklands, Luffeild, and Woodcute turn complex. I needed to either drop back or get ahead of him. I didn’t want to try this man in those three turns. I looked for Beth and she was already entering the hard 90 degree left hand turn that is Brooklands.

I could tell by the way she is breaking that either McNairy or me is going to have to use the outside line in those turns. Not fucking good all. For either of us. I keyed my radio fast. “Kathy how much rubber has built up on the outside line of Brooklands?”

“Stay to the inside, Bobbie. According to Beth that turn is covered by marbles. You need to starting breaking now.”

I took her advice and hit the brakes. McNairy shot passed me and dove hard into the turn. He took the inside line just inches ahead of me. Just the way I thought he would. I had to brake even harder as we exited Brooklands and entered Luffeild. I wanted to take the looping right hander at a higher speed but even if McNairy wasn’t in front of me the G-forces prevented a higher speed. This turn is not one to take for granted.

As I enter Woodcute I spot my chance to pass and take it. McNairy made one mistake on entering Woodcute. He went too wide on entering the turn. He left just too much room for me to slip pass on the inside. As I passed him, he raised his righthand. As if he was acknowledging his mistake. I powered through the rest of the turn picking up speed for the exit onto International Pit Straightaway. I top out at just over 185mph.

I got my first clear view of Beth’s rear end just before she entered the righthand Corpse turn. I could tell that she wasn’t using her brakes to slow down. Only her transmission. Beth was engine braking. I downshifted to sixth-gear as I entered Copse turn, dropping my speed to an ass kicking speed of 155mph. The left–right–left–right–left complex of Maggotts, Becketts and Chapel came out of nowhere. I took the five turns at just over 145mph. With each successful turn, I slowly increase my speed. I know that I’m pushing the edge, but the music is driving me to reach deeper inside myself. I need to go beyond what I have done in the past.

I exit the final lefthander of the complex and smile. With all her lead, Beth is only halfway down Hanger Straightway. She’ll lose even more of her lead when she brakes for the righthand turn of Stowe. The only problem is I’ll need to brake just as hard, if not harder to take the same turn. I hit my brakes hard and down shift to fifth gear just to handle Stowe corner. The G-forces push down on me as I hit the apex of the turn with near blackout force. I understand what McNairy meant by racing on this track was like flying a fighter jet. With each turn and straightaway I wanted to push my car closer and closer to the edge. Along with myself.

I shot down the Vale at just over 130 before braking for the left-right chicane. As I exit the chicane, I’m right on Beth’s ass end. I dive for the inside and cut Beth off at the entrance to Club turn. I feel my smile grow as I shoot past her and take the lead. From here out it doesn’t matter what else happens. This race is mine.

“GOD DAMN! Bobbie where the hell did that come from?!” Kathy shouted over the radio in her excitement. I knew how she felt.

“Go Speedy go!” I had forgotten that Chief Hailee could talk to me over the radio. “Burn it down Kiddo!”

“Don’t stop, baby girl! Go Speedy go!” Dad shouted right behind him.

The one voice that I wasn’t expecting to hear just then drove me more than any other was mom’s. “No prisoners Bobbie! Do it baby! Do it for Lisa!”

I exited Club corner dropped the hammer and never looked back. I had forty-nine laps to prove that I owned this track. Forty-nine laps to glory. Forty-nine laps to take back my place on the Formula one circuit. Forty-nine laps with nothing between me and the finish line. Forty-nine laps to fulfill a promise to one person. A promise that no one was going to stop me from keeping. I knew that Lisa would be watching this race. I had to win just for her. If it was the last thing I ever did.

Two laps later Judas Priest’s Turbo Lover filled my ears. I knew that it was a sign. A sign for what I didn’t have a clue. I just took it for what it was and drove my ass off. I knew that nothing was stopping me as the sounds of Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell began to play on lap eight. For the next five laps I put down some of the fastest times in the history of Silverstone. Chief Hailee had me pit on lap thirteen come in for new tyres and slight adjustment to the front wing and stabilizers. My pit crew turned in a one-point-two second pit stop. Long enough for a change in songs.

As I was pulling out the opening notes to Rush’s Tom Sawyer thundered in my ears. The music reached deep into my soul. It drove me to push my car and myself even harder. I had to win this race, period. Kathy gave up on trying to warn me about taking the turns faster than the other drivers. Instead she started counting down each turn and straightaway for me. Whenever I came up on another car, she would tell me where to take the turn or straightaway to make a solid pass and clean pass. With her help I was able to lap the last seven cars with ease. We had truly become a solid driver/spotter team.

Chief Hailee called me in three more times for both fresh tyres and minor adjustments. The adjustments were done to keep up with the changing track conditions. At laps sixteen, nineteen, twenty-four, and thirty-six the yellow flag came out for drivers in the grass and gravel runoffs. I was surprised that we had only those four yellow flags with as fast as the track was today. I was expecting at least another two or three yellow flags. Along with one major crash. That crash came late in the race.

At lap forty-seven the crash that I was expecting finally happened. It wasn’t the major blowout that I expected though. The crash occurred between two of the lapped racers between the Vale and Club turns. Kathy warned me of the wreck as I exited Chapel onto the Hanger Straightaway. I knew that the Marshals would throw the yellow flag before I reached the wreck. I had plenty of time to start gearing down for the wreck. With both Stowe and the Vale straightaway between me and the wreck I knew that the recovery crews would just be getting there as I passed them. I also knew that the rest of the field would be looking to capitalize on the wreck.

It would force me to allow the rest of the field to catch up to me. Not something that I was looking forward to dealing with. Once Beth and the rest were on my ass, I would be fighting to regain my lead. Just as I thought. As I reached the midway point of Hanger Straightaway the Marshals throw the yellow flag. The only it was a full track yellow not the section yellow that I was expecting. I keep gearing down until I reached pit road speeds. I slowly rolled pass the recovery crews and the wrecked cars. I smiled as I watched the drivers climb into the ambulance to be transported to the infield medical center. The fact that both drivers were up and walking around lifted my sprites higher than I could ever have hoped.

It took another full lap for the recovery crews to clear the track. Another lap after that for us to go back to green flag racing. When the Marshals waved the green flag, I didn’t think twice. I floor the accelerator shifting up throw the gears. I hit Abbey turn wide open. Beth was hot on my heels working the shit out of her steering wheel and gears. I have to give my sister her due. She wasn’t going to just let me drive off into the sunset with a win without a fight. When there are less than three laps left in a race no one is your friend and teammates become rivals. Even amongst sisters. I know that Beth is going to do her best to win, but like I said earlier this race is mine to win or lose.

I came out of Aintree with no sight of Beth or McNairy. I reached Brooklands just as AC/DC’s ‘Shoot to thrill’ sounded in my earbuds. It was all I needed to haul ass for the finish line. I caught a glimpse of Beth in my review mirrors. I had to smile. She was no longer a threat, and neither was McNairy. They have their hands full fighting off the rest of the field. I round Luffield, Woodcut, and tear down National Pit Straightaway. I get another glimpse of Beth and McNairy in my review coming out of Woodcut just as I enter Cospe turn. I don’t know how but they have both fallen off the pace badly. I key my mike.

“Kathy, what’s going on with Beth and McNairy?”

“Nothing. They’re both fighting their asses off just to keep in front of the field. Hell, McNairy is doing most of the blocking for the two of them. By the way McNairy is holding on to third by the skin of his teeth. Beth has been able to gain some ground on you. Not enough to be concerned about.”

“Do you think she’ll try to use the DRS zone Maggots?”

“Negative. If anything, Beth will come after you on the Hanger Straightaway or the Vale, Club chicane. Those are the only two spots that she has a chance to gain the upper hand.”

“Thanks, Kathy.” I dropped off the radio as I rounded the exit of Beckets turn entering the Hanger Straightaway. I never looked back as I sped down the 770 meters of one of the fastest straightaways on the F1 circuit. Just as I hit the brakes for Stowe Beth appeared out of nowhere. She was right there on my ass halfway through the turn. Talk about a kick in the ass. I pushed my car harder than ever before.

No way was I going to just let my sister take the win from me now. Not when I was two laps from winning the Rolex British Grand Prix. With Vale, Club and the International Straightaway just ahead of me, I knew that I was in danger of losing the race to Beth. With her hot on my heels I had the feeling that these last two laps were going to be a knockdown drag out fight to the finish line, with a full-blown drag race to the finish.

“Shit! I’m sorry Bobbie. I didn’t see Beth pull that slide on McNairy.”

“Forget about Kathy.” I chuckled. “I’ve seen Beth pull that stunt on more than one person. It’s one of her trademarked moves.”

“Can you get away from her before Abby?”

This time I really did laugh. I never even gave the thought of getting away from Beth a second glance. I wasn’t about to lose now. I dropped the hammer one last time. I dove hard into the left-right-hander that is the Vale/Club Chicane. Beth was right behind me, but it didn’t matter. I knew that she couldn’t hold the inside line through Club. That is where I’ll leave her in my dust. I’ve been watching Beth in my review mirror for the last lap. Her car’s performance has dropped off in the wider turns of the track. She won’t be able to keep up with me in those turns, but she has the advantage in the tighter corners. Not that it’ll matter in the long run. Between the wide sweeping turns and fast straightaways this is my kind of track. The race is mine and that is all there is to it.

Just as I exit the Club Complex Chicane, I got a surprise as the first notes from one of The Rolling Stones’ greatest hits. I drop the hammer and tear down the length of International Pit Straightaway to the thundering sounds of ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ I feel my heart beat quicken as Beth drops back. I know exactly what she is going to try and pull on the next corner. I’ve seen pull this same tactic on one too many drivers back home.

Just as I hit the brakes for Abby corner Beth tries to cut me off on the inside. She wasn’t expecting me to dive hard on the curb and whip back for the inside of Farm. As we round Farm I can see Beth practically pounding on her steering wheel. I’ve made her mad. This is good. The madder Beth gets the more mistakes she’ll make. The more mistakes she makes, the better things will be for me. I know that sounds screwed up but this is a race. As I round Aintree and head down Wellington Straightaway I spot Beth in my review just coming out of the Loop. I can tell by the way her car is handling she is going to be fighting it all the way around the track. The race is now mine.

I don’t care what else happens. McNairy will have to fight his way pass Beth to get to me. I know my sister. Beth maybe pissed off at me, but she won’t stab me in the back. She’ll block McNairy and any other driver for these last two laps. In her mind, if she can’t beat me. Then no one will.

“What are you thinking baby girl?” Dad’s voice brings me out of my trance.

“That this race is over. I’ve won. Everybody else is racing for second.” I know that it was cocky of me. I just didn’t care. It was the truth.

“Then drop the hammer kiddo. You got a lap and a half to go. The only person who can threaten you now is your sister.”

“She lost the race back on Abby.” I told him quickly.

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s pissed off, daddy.” Was all I had to tell him.

“Ah shit! No wonder her time is falling off. You didn’t piss her off on purpose? Please tell that you didn’t do that.”

“I cannot tell a lie. She did it to herself.” I giggled and held the inside lane for Brooklands and Luffeild. I start putting on the speed as I enter Woodcute and increasing my lead once more on Beth.

Kathy comes up on the radio. “Clear Copse corner and the race is all yours Bobbie. You got a two second lead on Beth, and a four second on McNairy.”

“Like I said earlier, Kathy. This race belongs to me.” The authority in my voice left no doubt as to who was going to be the winner today.

I powered off Copse corner at 185mph. Onto the back half of the track I feel my smile grow even wider. I brake just enough to take Maggots, Becketts, and Chapel at just over 150mph. I exit Chapel ready to power down the Hanger Straightaway when I get this feeling of unease. All day long I’ve felt as if I belonged out here. Until now that is. Now, it feels as if this race is being handed to me. That I’m a fraud. That feeling haunts me down the 770 meters of Hanger Straightaway until I have to hit the brakes and gear down fast for Stowe. As I slide around Stowe corner the feeling disappears.

There before me is the Vale, and nothing but empty raceway. I don’t even think twice and push the limits. The limits of both my car and myself. I round the Club complex and see the start/finish line. With no one around to slow me down. I flash across the line at close at top speed. Kathy starts counting down the turns one by one for me. She calls them out by name as I put them in my review mirror. I only slow down for the hairpin turns. Other than that, nothing stands in my way.

“Don’t stop now, baby girl. The race is all yours. Do it for Lisa.” That was all mom had to say. All I needed to hear as I crossed the start/finish line. I was going to put down the fastest time ever for Silverstone. Beth may have put up the second fastest Qualifying time ever, but I was going to own the record for the fastest race time ever. Lewis Hamilton may have the record at 1:25.892, but after today it will be only for his Qualifying time. I know that I’ll cross that finish line faster than anyone before me. I cleared Copse corner and headed for Maggots. I only let up for Chapel corner.

With Hanger Straightaway once again in front of me. I push myself and car even harder. I brake and gear down for Stowe. “Talk to me Kathy. What’s my time look like? How close to the record am I?”

“At this rate you’ll cross the line at a minute-twenty-five-point-eight-nine-one. That’ll put you in at one-one-hundredth of second faster than the standing record.”

Damn, 1:25.891 is still not fastest enough. I need to be in at 1:25. I want a record that won’t ever be broken for a long time. “Not fast enough.”

“Bobbie don’t go pushing things. We still need that car for next week.” Mom warned me over the radio. A warning that I wasn’t going to heed. Not that I needed to. I hit the Vale and Club complex with an ease I haven’t felt all day. I exit the Club complex and push the accelerator to the floor. “Oh, the hell with it. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Brake the record.”

That was all I needed to push my car’s engine to its red line and thunder across the finish shattering the record of 1:25.892. “Holly shit! Way to go kid! You just set a new record at one-minute-twenty-four-point-nine-nine-seven seconds. Almost a full second faster than Hamilton.”

I starting slowing down. I let Beth and McNairy pass me on the Wellington Straightaway. I took my time completing my last lap for the day. As I reached the Hanger Straightaway, I looked up at the sky. “This one was for you Lisa.”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 24
Thursday morning, Darlington, South Carolina.

I walked around my room getting used to my new boots with a smile on my face. I was looking forward to this break. The team needs the downtime. Let’s be honest here. I need the downtime more than they do. The past few weeks have really taken their total on me. And the celebration after my win at Silverstone was one that I should have skipped. The hangover was one that will teach me to never drink Champagne after a race.

I had to chuckle at Kelly’s insistence at staying over at our house last night. Not that I blame her. I could tell that she didn’t want to go home to an empty house. I know that she wouldn’t leave my side during the victory party. She’s gotten extremely jealous of the other drivers when they hit on me. Then again so have I. More than a few of them haven’t gotten the hint that we’re engaged to be married. A date that is coming up faster on us than we expected. I still can’t believe that Kelly agreed to holding our marriage in Austin, Texas. It took us agreeing to hold an engagement party at the Mercedes-Benz Corporate headquarters next week to just get them to agree to the Austin date.

I swear those four old women just won’t give up trying to stick their noses into our wedding. It’s bad enough they want to give us a pair of matching AMG GT C Roadsters as a wedding present. Not that the GT Roadster is a bad car or anything. It’s just not my style, and the insurance will be a killer. I mean we’re both still teenagers. Then you add in my occupation things get a little on the ridiculous side. Even with mom getting me the rental car while we’re home is costing us a butt load. God, I miss my Judge.

“Bobbie are you wake?” Mom called through the door.

“I’m up mom. Come on in. I’m decent.” I had been up for more than two hours already. I had shit, showered, and dressed in a pair of blue jeans, and blouse by now. I smiled as the door open and mom walked in. “I’ve been up for awhile now mom. Something on your mind or are you just checking up on me?”

“Neither dear. I was wondering what you and Kelly have planned for today.” I could tell by mom’s question that she had something special planned for later today. “Speaking of Kelly. Where is she? Normally she’s dressed and downstairs by now.”

“She had to wait for the shower today. Joey got in there before both of us. As for what we got going on today nothing really mom. We were just going to swing by the school and see Mister Corely. Maybe stop in at Slow Jake’s and see how the Knights are coming along with their track.” I figured I had nothing to hide by telling mom only part of our plans.

“So, you’re not going to be handing out plane tickets and wedding invites to certain people?” Mom smirked. I just blushed at mom spotting my plans. “No kiddo I’m not peaking into yours and Kelly’s wedding plans. I just know you that’s all.”

“I know that most of the Knights are a bunch of rowdy Pee Dee street racers. But they’re all good people at heart. The guys may lack certain social graces, but their girlfriends counterbalance them.” I looked down at my feet blushing. “Besides I kind of owe them. I owe them big time.”

“I understand honey.” Mom reached behind her into the waist band of her pants. “I took the liberty of typing up a single invite for the Knights. I figure they can save money by driving out as a team. It’ll be cheaper than them flying.”

“Thanks mom. Is there another reason why you wanted to talk this morning?” I figured that I would get to the point.

“Your father needs you and Kelly at the shop by one o’clock, dear.” With that mom got up and walked out of my room. “Oh, and dear, you girls really need to look into finding your own place. I suggest you talk with Vicky over at Taylor realty. She currently has some very nice two- and three-bedroom ranch style homes listed on her site. Most of them run between one-twenty-five to three-hundred-thousand. I believe you should be able to find one to your liking. A good number of them even come with acreage.”

“Um… mom why the sudden change in heart? You’ve been so dead set against us moving in together. Why now?” I knew that Kelly and I would need our own place sooner or later. I just figured that would happen after we were married. “It’s not like we don’t have time. The wedding isn’t for another seventeen weeks.”

“Roberta Lee McGuire, you really need to get a better grip on time here child. That seventeen weeks is going to fly by, and you’ll be wondering where the time went. Besides, with this last race bonus you have more than enough money to buy just about any home you want outright. Do you even know what you want in a house?” Mom asked with a sly knowing smile.

“I know that Kelly wants at least ten acres, three bedrooms, two full baths, and a three-car garage. Other than that, I could care less what kind of home we live in.” I could always be honest with mom. If nothing else she would give me a straight answer.

Mom sighed. “Bobbie, haven’t you ever thought about what you want in a home? Don’t tell you haven’t. I’ve seen the listings saved on the company computer. Have you forgotten about that old real estate newspaper listing in your desk draw? You know the one for the old Harmon farm. What is it sixty-five acres with a ten-horse stable, a four-bedroom three-bathroom house, with a four-car garage? Not to mention two outbuildings.”

“It’s seventy-five acres, a twelve-horse stable farm. The main house is a five-bedroom, four-bath, two-story Victorian. It’s been remodeled four times to bring it up to modern standards. The last remodel was six years ago.” I told mom with a smile. “Oh, and there are four outbuildings. One of which is a two-bay garage.”

“That currently has a listing price of three-seventy-five. I called Vicky earlier this morning. She believes that you can get the property for a competitive offer of around three-forty.” Mom just smirked as I stood there with my mouth hanging open. “I told you that I would always look out for you, dear.”

“I know that mom. It’s just that I haven’t really had a chance to put things in order just yet.” I sighed. “I’ve been too busy with just trying to win races lately.”

“I know that dear. That’s why I took the initiative and called Vicky. She’ll be calling you sometime later this week to setup an appointment to show you kids the Harmon farm.” Mom just got up, hugged me, and turned to leave the room.

“Say, mom. Do you know why the old Harmon farm has been on the market for so long?” I know that my curiosity was getting the better of me. I mean the old Harmon farm has been up for sale for the last eight years.

Mom sighed and looked me in the eye. “Until recently that old home has been tied up in nonstop legal battles. As it is the property is so far in the arrears on taxes it’s dreadful. You might be able to snatch it up for the back-taxes. Why don’t you ask Vicky.”

“Why was it tied up in the courts mom?” I asked quickly.

“Mr. Harmon senior died of a heart attack without a last will and testament. His children have been fighting over who gets what ever since. It took a judge to force them sell the farm.” Mom shook her head. “Damned fools. The only people who made out were the lawyers. All that money for nothing.”

I thought about what mom told me. It was one more thing that I needed to get taken care of. Especially now that I was going to marry Kelly. “Thanks mom. See you later this afternoon. We still on for dinner at the Ringwald’s?”

“Yes, and don’t be late, Bobbie. Carol and Dan, had to shift their work schedules around for you girls.” Mom looked over at Kelly as she walked into my room. “I suggest that you be ready to spend the night at home with your parents, young lady.”

“Yes ma’am.” Kelly squeaked as she rushed by mom. I wanted to giggle but knew better. Besides, I was enjoying the view. Kelly was only in her bathrobe. She wore the freshly showered look well. Mom just smirked and left our room.

It didn’t take Kelly long to get dressed. Just like me, Kelly had taken to wearing junipers, knee-high riding boots, and a peasant blouse as her day-to-day wear. We had both become real advocates of the women’s equestrian look. Once Kelly was dressed and had her makeup done, we headed down for breakfast.

An hour later we were headed out for Slow Jack’s Garage. As much as I like the 2017 Mustang, I still wanted my Judge. It just didn’t have the same responses that my old car had. I smiled as I pulled into the parking area for Jack’s Garage. Once again it was filled with the cars of the local street racers.

I counted at least three different club license plate frames. The most numerous belonged to a club that I haven’t heard of though and were on mostly cars from the last decade, the Blue Demons. They must have formed over the last few months.

As Kelly and I climbed out of the Mustang one of the new guys walked up with a smile. “Welcome to Slow Jack’s Garage. I’m Gary. How can I help you today ladies?”

“We’re just here to see Jack and the Knights Gary.” Kelly told him.

“Sorry, miss. But Jack and the Knights are all over at MRDI for the day.” He gave me and Kelly a thoughtful look. “Please don’t take this the wrong way miss, but aren’t you Bobbie McGuire?”

I just sighed. “Yup. That’s me.”

Gary’s sudden smile threatened to crack the boy’s face. “YEAH GUYS! She’s here! SHE’S REALLY HERE!”

I was stunned as more than fifteen young men and twelve young women rushed out of the garage area. Both Kelly and I were surrounded by what had to be the owners of all the cars there. Within minutes I was signing autographs and posing for pictures with the members of the various club members and in groups. It seems that they all had to have a picture with the local girl who made it to the world stage of Formula 1 racing. To say that I was more than a little surprised by the attention would be to say the Eiffel Tower is a collection of matchsticks.

Even Kelly was getting the star treatment. It took close to twenty minutes before Stephany Stone stepped out of the office. “ALRIGHT YOU CHUCKLEHEADS! KNOCK IT OFF!”

Almost like Moses parting the Reed Sea the gathered drivers separated for Stephany. I gave her a smile as she walked up to me and Kelly. “How’s it going Steph?”

“Not too bad. Sorry about the new guys swarming you and Kelly, like that Bobbie. I wish that dad hadn’t brought in those new guys. The problem is we need the help.” Stephany sighed. I gave a quizzical look and she explained. “Ever since word got out that you brought your car here, we’ve been flooded with requests. Mostly for custom and repair bodywork. We’ve also started getting requests for restoration work of older and classic cars.”

“Damn, I bet your dad is just loving all this new work. How has that list I gave your dad worked out for you?” I asked the younger teen. I knew that list of junk and salvage yards would come in handy. “If you need more names to contact let me know.”

“Nope. Believe it or not, once I got to talking to the guys on that list, I was able to start making my own contacts.” Stephany smiled. “Come on inside. I’m pretty sure you want to see what we’ve been able to do with your Judge.”

“I thought it was totaled?” Kelly asked.

“It is as far as a street racer goes. Dad though wanted to try and bring back to factory specs. At least get her back on the road.” Stephany told us as she led us towards the back part of the garage. To an area that was blocked off by a hanging tarp.

She pulled the tarp to one side and waved us on around. There before me was my Judge. At least what was left of my Judge. I could tell that my baby won’t ever be a street racer again. At best she would only be good for the ‘family car’.

“Miss Bobbie, dad told me to tell you that your Judge’s racing days are well, and truly over. We’ve done our best to get her to this point, but unless you want to drop another twenty to thirty grand into her she’ll never be more than a show piece. Sorry.” Stephany told me sadly. I could tell that she didn’t want to give up on the old gal. I could also tell that she had fallen in love with the old car.

“Tell you what Step. You get her back on the road. She’s yours.” I told the teenager with a smile.

Stephany blinked her eyes at me. “Are you serious? I mean this is a nineteen-sixty-nine GTO J model straight from the factory with a four-hundred CID V-eight Ram Air III engine, Rally II wheels without trim rings, Hurst shifter with a unique T-shaped handle, wider tires, various decals, and a rear spoiler. One of the rarest classic cars on the road right now.”

“I’m dead serious Steph. If you can get this old gal back on the road. She’s yours. I know that she’ll never be a racer again. But she’ll make a great first car for you.” I told her honestly. Then smiled as I pulled her into a hug. “Besides, I know that you have been running this place since your family got back from Europe. I know that your dad has been too busy with getting the new NASCAR team in shape to really deal with this place. Think of it as a reward for all the hard work you’ve done for your dad.”

The young teenage girl wrapped me so tightly in a hug that it threatened to cut off my air. “OH, THANK YOU! YOU’RE SO COOL!”

I pried Stephany off me with a smile. “Don’t thank me, kiddo. Thank the insurance company. They wrote my Judge off as totaled. They’re not willing to pay for the repairs. That leaves me with a car that I can’t drive or fix. Now you on the other hand have the time, and the resources to get my old car back on the road. Both of which I currently lack. I will tell you this much. This is going to become a labor of love, Steph.”

“I promise that I’ll do her up right, Miss McGuire.” Stephany was practically bouncing with her pinned up excitement. “I hope you like that sweat little number daddy found for you. I know the guys have busted their asses to get it ready for your return.”

“What are you talking about Stephany? I haven’t talked to your dad since you guys left Europe.” I asked in confusion.

“Um… if I asked you to just forget about what I just said would you?” Stephany blushed. Then looked down at her feet. “I kind of forgot that it is supposed to be a surprise.”

“What’s supposed to be a surprise?” I asked her. Only to get hit in the arm by Kelly. “What the hell was that for?”

“Leave it alone, Bobbie. Now.” Kelly ordered.

I gave my fiancée a dirty look before turning back to Stephany. “Forget about it, Stephany. If you’re not supposed to tell me about something that’s fine by me. Right now, we need to go to your office. I got a title to sign over.”

The young teenager relaxed and gave me a smile. “Thanks Bobbie. I can’t believe that you’re actually going to sign over your car’s title. I mean are you sure you want to do this? We still got a long way to go on the rebuild of your car.”

“As much as I would love to keep her Stephany. I can’t. She was a great car, but I just don’t have the time to rebuild her. You and the Blue Demons on the other hand do. It can be a project car for your new club, Stephany.” I gave her a winning smile as I pulled the title for the Judge from my purse.

“If you’re sure then we’ll make sure the job gets done right.” Stephany promised as they entered the shop office. It took me ten minutes to sign and notarize the title over to Stephany. “Just do me one favor. When you go to repaint. Try to find a decent color that matches with your club colors. I’m thinking a niece deep Royal or Navy blue. Maybe even a Neon Sapphire Blue.”

“You got it Bobbie. I told you we would do it right. I meant that. How did you know that the Blue Demons were my club?” Stephany asked me with her head cocked to the side.

Kelly answered Stephany as I just chuckled. “Oh please! Stephany all we had to do was look at the average age of the Blue Demons to figure that out. Most of them are right around your age. We knew that sooner or later with the Knights breaking up that you would form your own club.”

“After all, Steph. It is kind of a family tradition. Your father founded the Darlington Knights. Your uncle founded the Midnight Runners. This garage has been in the Stone family for four generations.” I looked around the office smiling. “Yes, I know what this place means for your family. It’s history, and the history of your family, is all-over the walls.”

Once again, I was wrapped up tightly as Stephany tried to squeeze the life out of me. “You really do get it. I know that this is going to sound crazy, but I just couldn’t let the club die.”

I just chuckled and pushed her back. “Of course, I get it. Just because I never joined or formed my own club doesn’t mean that I don’t understand. These car clubs are part of our county’s history in a major way. Just like the Lady in Black.”

“Stephany, if there is one thing that will always be the truth in Darlington county it is this. We always honor our past. Racing is part of that past. If it hadn’t been for Darlington Raceway and NASCAR, I doubt that our little county would have survived the last few decades.” Kelly quickly told the teenage girl.

I had to give it to Kelly. When she wanted to get someone motivated. She got them motivated. Kelly always found a way to get people to just want to make themselves better. Me, I just want to drive as fast as I can. Kelly is out to make the world a better place. One small part of it at a time.

“Look, we would love to spend all day hanging out with you and your new club Steph. But we have to be going. We got one more stop to make this morning before heading over to MRDI.” I said quickly.

“Sure. I understand. Besides, dad and the guys are over there working on the new Stock cars for their team. I never thought I would see the day that my dad would be the Senior Chief Mechanic for a real NASCAR team.” Stephany beamed. “Where is your next stop? The bridal store?”

Kelly and I both chuckled. “Nope. We picked out our dresses back in London. By the way.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the group invitation handing it to her. “Here this is for your family and the Knights. If you can get the Demons together in time. They can come to. That is a group invitation for our wedding in Auston. Sorry, but the clubs will have to drive out.”

Stephany squealed in delight then hugged Kelly and me again. I swear the girl is a hugger. We were interrupted by one of the shop guys stepping into the office. “Hey Stephany, do you know if that intake manifold came in for the Camaro SS yet?”

“Not yet Sal. It’s supposed to be on the UPS truck for delivery this morning. You should be able to get Miss Love’s car back on the road sometime this afternoon.” Stephany turned back to us smiling brightly. “Kelly, Bobbie, sorry but I got to get back to work. Somebody has to run this madhouse with dad out of the shop.”

“Go on Steph. We understand. Besides we really need to get going ourselves.” With that we left the office and Slow Jake’s Garage. As we drove through town, I got to thinking about something Stephany said back at the garage. “Kelly, do you know why my parents want us over at MRDI at one o’clock?”

“Nope. Not a clue.” I could that she was lying to me. She never took her eyes off the road. She was refusing to look me in the eye. When we stopped a red light, Kelly looked over at me smiling. “Really, Bobbie. I don’t know why they want us to come by at one.”

“Yeah right.” I harrumphed. “What are my parents up to, Kelly?”

She just sighed. “Let it go for now, Bobbie. Please?”

“Okay Kelly, I’ll let it go. Besides, I’ll find out in three hours anyway. I just wish they won’t hide things from me.” I bitched.

Kelly placed her hand on my leg. “I know how you hate being kept in the dark about things Bobbie. I know how so much was kept from you when you were younger. Trust me today is something good.”

As much as I wanted to argue with Kelly, I just couldn’t. The girl had me wrapped around her little finger. “Come on, let’s go see Vicky over at Taylor Realty. We need to tell her what WE want in a home. We’ll have a better chance seeing Mister Corely tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? I mean we can always rent until we’re ready to settle down. We don’t have to buy now.” I could tell that Kelly really did want to go talk with Vicky about houses.

“Get your phone out and start looking through her listings. I know that I want at least twenty acres of land. A three-bedroom house and at least a three-car garage.” I told her with a smile.

“That’s awfully big for our first home don’t you think. I mean we can start off with something smaller.” Kelly was thinking about the money. “Something like that will cost a lot of money.”

“Kelly, have you looked at your bank account lately?” I asked her.

“Well no. I’ve just been letting my check get deposited and only taking out what I need at the time. Why?” She asked me.

I chuckled. “Honey, do you realize that your weekly paycheck is equal to what most people earn in a month? I won’t even go into what I’ve earned over the last few months. Trust me, money is not a problem. I’ve got more than enough to buy whatever we want for our first home. Now, get to searching those listings.”

It took us thirty minutes to reach Taylor Realty thanks to traffic and a pain in the ass construction site. As we pulled in front of the office Kelly had found nine different listings that fit our wants and needs. Two of which had more than forty acres. We hit our first problem when dealing with Vicky’s receptionist. Our age.

“Sorry girls, but we gave last week.” The woman said.

“Um… we’re here to see Mrs. Taylor.” Kelly started off only to be interrupted by the receptionist.

“We’re not looking to higher anyone young lady. As for donations we are already supporting the local bands. Now please leave.” The receptionist’s attitude was starting to piss me off.

“Look lady, just let Vicky know that Bobbie McGuire is here.” That got the woman’s attention. She looked up at me with eyes as wide as diner plates. “You heard me sister.”

She reached over and picked up the phone. “Mrs. Taylor there is a Miss Bobbie McGuire here to see you. Yes, ma’am, I’ll send her back and her friend back right away.” The receptionist hung up the phone. “Mrs. Taylor will see you. Last door on the left.”

I just quirked my lips and took Kelly’s hand. I knew that the receptionist hadn’t expected Mrs. Vicky tell her to send us back. I know that we don’t look like we’re old enough to be looking at homes or have the needed credit background. That doesn’t excuse her attitude towards potential clients. Regardless of age.

“Ah, Miss McGuire so nice to meet you. I thought that our appointment wasn’t for tomorrow?” Vicky Taylor greet me and Kelly.

“I’ll be honest ma’am it is. We were in the area though and hoped that you might be free. Kelly and I were going over what we would like in our first home. She thought it would be best if we let you know what we wanted so that you can get a head start.” I figured that a slight twisting of the truth wasn’t a real lie.

“I see. Well I can’t fault you for that. Why don’t we sit down and go over what you have in mind?” Vicky smiled. As she sat down in her chair Vicky pulled out a legal pad and pen. “First let’s talk price range. I have several properties in the one-fifty to three-hundred thousand price range.”

“I currently have five-hundred-thousand-dollars in racing bonuses sitting around doing nothing. Not to mention my normal drivers’ salary. Between the two I have more than enough to cover a greater range than that. I was thinking of something between the three-hundred and five-hundred-thousand range.” I smiled sweetly as Vicky’s eyeballs bulged out in surprise. “Yeah, I know it’s stupid how much I get paid to do something I love.”

“I had no idea that a professional driver earned so much. I figured that you might have at most twenty-five-thousand for a down payment.” Vicky sat back in astonishment. “I’ll need to verify your income of course. You do understand, Miss McGuire?”

I just chuckled and hand her my checkbook. “I fully understand, Mrs. Taylor. I know that if I had a teenager walk into my office offering to pay that kind of money. I would be questioning things.”

“Thankyou for understanding. It will only take me a minute.” Vicky was already typing on her computer. I decided to save her sometime.

“Here call this number. It’s my accountant. Just ask for Tom.” I said as I handed her my business accountant’s number.

She looked at me and dialed the number. “Yes, this is Vicky Taylor with Taylor Realty. May I speak with Tom? Thank you. Yes, Mr. Martian, Vicky Taylor with Taylor Realty. Yes, I have Bobbie McGuire in my office. Yes, I just need a verification of assets. Really?! No, that will be all thank you for your time.”

Vicky hung the phone up with a stunned looked on her face. I chuckled and asked. “What did Tom say?”

“That if I didn’t have what you wanted to sell you my business.” Vicky looked over at me. “Do you have any idea of how much you’re worth right now young lady?”

“Honestly? No. I just know that I can afford just about anything in your listings.” I answered honestly.

“Let’s take a look at what you want in your new home. Are you planning on building? Will, an older home do? Just what is it that you girls want?” Vicky turned totally professional once she learned that I could afford just about anything in her listings.

“We both want a lot of land around us for starters.” Kelly began our list of wants. “We’re thinking around twenty acres or more.” Vickey started writing on her legal pad as Kelly listed what we wanted. “We need at least three bathrooms, and four bedrooms. A full dining room. Livingroom, with a separate family room. Full appliances in the kitchen, with plenty of cabinet space. I would like professional grade appliances if possible. Full mudroom and utility rooms. The utility room needs to have washer and dry hookups. A two car-garage at the minimum. Preferably would we like a three car-garage. The garage doesn’t have to be attached.”

I could tell that Kelly had been thinking about her dream home for a long time. With the way her list was going I was happy that I didn’t have to worry too much about price. When Kelly got done, I noticed that she left one thing out. Something that I knew she would love to have. “Don’t forget the horse barn.”

“Bobbie we’re not going to be around to take of horses.” Kelly countered quickly. But I could see it in her eyes. She wanted that horse barn to be part of her dream.

“I may not be home, but you will be. Look Kelly, I love you with all my heart, but you don’t have to be with me at every race. I also don’t want to wait to start our family. Once we’re married, we start working on that next.” I gave her my biggest smile. “This home is for you and our kids. We get enough land and I can have my man-shed built somewhere on it.”

Kelly’s heart melted at those words and so did her resistance. She turned to Vicky. “Mrs. Taylor, can you just find us a piece of vacant property? We’ll build to suite.”

Vicky just smiled and turned to her computer. “How much acreage do you want? Not that twenty you were talking about, young lady. I want to know the max.”

“Nothing less than fifty. We want full rights to the land as well.” Kelly explained. At my look of confusion, she smiled and explained. “I’m talking about water, and mineral rights as well. If we find natural gas, oil, or whatever on our land. I don’t want to have to fight some corporate ass hat over the right to live on our land. My family taught me all about that fact of life.” That was all Vicky need to hear.

I knew exactly what Kelly was talking about. It had happened to more than a few family farms in South Carolina. Especially in the Pee Dee area of the Palmetto State. One too many bank foreclosures had happened because of some corporation wanting the land. Vicky looked up from her computer with a smile.

“Okay ladies this is what I have for the following counties. Over in Florence you have three, Marlboro has one, Lee County is looking like your best bet with five. Before you ask there is one property in Darlington County that fits what you want.” I gave Vicky a strange look and wondered why she left Darlington to last. “There is a reason why I left Darlington for last. It is an estate liquidation sale. The total acreage is just over three-hundred acres. With a small lake taking up fifty of those acres.”

“What’s the problem? Is there some kind of beef between the family members? Do we need to buy the whole three-hundred acres?” Kelly asked the questions that was on my mind.

“No. They have already partialed out the land into four plots. Only three of the plots have access to the lake. The one plot that doesn’t is the smallest at twenty acres and has the only buildings, as well as the main house.” I could tell that there was more to the story. “The rest of the plots make up two-hundred-and-eighty.”

“What else Mrs. Taylor? What aren’t you telling us?” She just sat back in her chair and sighed.

“There is a huge back taxes levy on the property. Mainly due to back property taxes. It seems that the deceased owner got behind on his taxes and was unable to catch up. That is the main reason why the family is selling off the property.” That threw a monkey wrench in our plans. Back taxes can be a bitch if not taken care of right off the bat. “That is the bad news. The good news is you can get one of the back properties for around fifty-thousand over the back taxes. Your initial outlay would be around two-twenty-five to two-fifty for the land. Depending on which plot.”

“Why the difference?” Kelly asked.

“One is larger than the others. Nothing more than that. Of the three properties it is the largest at total of one-hundred-and-five acres. That would also give you majority ownership of the lake.” Vicky said with a smile. I liked what I was hearing.

“What if I purchased all three of the back plots? I want full ownership of the lake. How much would that cost?” I figured I might as well go for broke.

“I think that if you made an offer of three-hundred-thousand plus be willing to pay the back taxes the owners will go for it.” I could tell that Vicky was being honest. I watched as she worked up the proposal on her computer. “That would be just short of four-hundred-thousand dollars. The actual cost is closer to three-hundred-and-ninety-eight-thousand-seven-hundred-and-seventy-six dollars to be precise.”

I scratched my chin. “Call the family and offer them four-hundred-thousand. That is to include the back taxes. Tell them it’ll be a cash deal. See if they’ll go for it?”

Vicky smiled. “All we need to do is the paper work.” And held out her hand to me and Kelly.

We spent the next twenty minutes filling out the needed paperwork for Vicky to represent us. Once that was done, we shook hands and left Vicky to take care of business. She told us that we would hear from her in the next day or two. I gave her our cell phone numbers, telling her that she should be able to get a hold of us at one of the two numbers.

Once we were back in the car I smiled over at Kelly. “Well, love. We’re one step closer to having your dream. Do you think two-hundred-and-eighty acres will be enough?”

“Bobbie, I thought you had lost your FUCKING MIND in there. That was until I heard your idea of just paying off the back taxes. With a little more on top to sweeten the pie for the family. Do you think they’ll go for it?” I could hear her worry in her voice.

“If they don’t, I’ll raise the bid until they do. But I won’t go over four-fifty.” I smiled. “I got with Tom yesterday. Before mom suggested that we look for our own place. He told me that I have more than seven-hundred-thousand to put towards a home.”

“You have got to be kidding me?” Kelly asked in shock.

“Love, I never joke about money. You should know that by now. You want that dream home, you’ll get that dream home.” Then I quirked my lips as I remembered one of the first lessons I learned in my young life. “Besides, it’s only money.”

I chuckled as Kelly’s eyes bulged out at hearing this. Then again, she should know by now that I just don’t take earthly possessions seriously. I’ve known for some time now that you can’t take it with you. I know Brinks sure as hell didn’t follow J.P. Morgan to the cemetery. I learned that it is best to enjoy life while you can. Because no one knows when your time is up.

“DAMN IT BOBBIE! We’re talking three-quarters of a million dollars here. Do you even understand how much that is?!” Kelly screeched.

“Sure. It is exactly seven-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars.” I giggled. I could tell that Kelly was close to blowing her top. I sighed and took pity on her. “Kelly, I know that it sounds like a lot of money, sure. It also sounds like I’m blowing a lot of it, but I’m not. This is an investment in OUR future. In the long run we’ll need the write off as ‘first-time home buyers’ at the end of the year for taxes. Have you looked at our income lately?”

She just sighed and looked at her watch. “We need to head for the shop, baby. It’s almost one o’clock.”

“Shit.” I pointed the car towards MRDI and headed for my fate. “Any chance of you giving me a hint?”

“Not happening, girlfriend. Just deal already.” Kelly snarked. “Besides, think of this as your just deserts for what you pulled earlier darling. I get to be the one holding all the strings.”

I just grumbled and headed for MRDI. It took us just over thirty-minutes to reach the family’s shop. I hate the lunchtime rush hour. I mean it’s normally that bad, but today was excessive for normal. I can only put it down to the road work. As we pull into the parking lot for MRDI I spot the cars belonging to the Darlington Knights. Most of whom now work for my family’s NASCAR branch of the business. I know that mom has been busting her ass on designing new cars for the guys.

I also noticed that most of the cars belonging to my pit crew were here as well. I spotted Beth’s new Dodge Charger in her reserved space. I just smiled and pulled into mine. “Come on Kelly. Time to face the music. I figure that we got maybe two to three hours before your parents want to see us.”

As we enter the office area dad spots us before anyone else. “Hi kids. About time you got here. Jewels, the girls are here.”

Mom came out of the back-office area smiling. “About time you two. We’ve held the festivities long enough.”

“Okay, guys, What’s up? You normally don’t do the whole surprise thing bullshit with me.” I pointed out.

“Okay, okay, Bobbie. We know that you’ve missed your Judge. We also know that you put a lot of time and money in that car. It was your baby. We also know how that loss has affected you.” Mom started off. “When we found out that the insurance company wasn’t going to pay for it to be repaired. We started looking for a replacement. Sadly, the number of GTO J models has become very limited thanks to the Fast-n-Furious movies.”

“I know mom. I already found the bad news from Stephany over at Slow Jake’s. I went ahead and signed the title over to her and the Demons. I figure that it would make a great club car for them.” I figured that it would be best to just tell them what I had done. “They have the time to get her back on the road. Her racing days are over.”

“I kind of figure you would do something like that, Bobbie.” Dad said from by the garage area doorway. “I think that you’ll find that we found a fitting replacement. This way please?”

I followed mom and dad out into the garage area to the far bay. There I found a car covered by a tarp. I could tell by the lines it was a sports car. Not just any sports car but a super sports car of some type. Whatever is under that tarp is built for speed. Speed and nothing else. This is not your everyday sports car. It was one that was built in the era of speed and the first supercars the late sixties, early seventies in mind.

Dad walked around to the far side of the car. He waited until I was standing just a few feet away from the tarp covered car. With a quick yank he pulled the tarp away to reveal a truly one of a kind car. With a trembling hand I slowly caressed the hood of the car before me. I never took my eyes from the gleaming black car.

“Is this really what I think it is? I’m not dreaming. This is real. Please tell me that this isn’t a cruel joke.” I pegged.

“No Bobbie, this isn’t a joke. Of any type. This is the real deal.” Dad said with a smile. “You really are looking at a nineteen-ninety-six second generation Dodge Viper GTS.”

I could tell that the Viper had been restored to original condition. Unlike most Vipers of the time this one was not in the trademark Dodge blue, thank god. I quickly ran the specs for the 96 Viper GTS through my head. Her dimensions were 175.1 inches long by 75.7 inches wide by 43.9 inches high. She came with a 19-gallon fuel tank. Had seating for 2. She was definitely not a family car. The GTS Viper was rear-wheel drive with a wheelbase of 96.2 inches. Like most Vipers the GTS came with a V10 engine and a 6-speed manual transmission. The GTS was also the first Viper to be considered to have Coupe Body style.

The 96 Viper GTS was a new coupé version of the original Viper RT/10. It was dubbed the “double bubble”, because of the roof featuring slightly raised sections that looked like bubbles to accommodate the usage of helmets and taking design cues from the Shelby Daytona designed by Pete Brock. More than 90% of the GTS was new in comparison to the RT/10 despite similar looks. The GTS came with the same 8.0 L; 487.6 cu in; V10 engine but the power was increased to 450 hp at 5,200 rpm, with 490 lb⋅ft of torque at 3,700 rpm. The 1996 GTS was also the first Viper to be equipped with airbags. It also included air conditioning, power windows and power door locks as standard equipment.

I looked over at mom and dad. “How did this happen? I mean I barely got enough out of the Judge for a down payment on a new Dodge Charger like Beth’s. Hell, where did you even find a Viper GTS is this good of a condition to begin with?”

“The how was the easy part.” Jake snarked. “The Knights did the bodywork and paint. I did the engine work. Tony over at Speedworks did the transmission. Sally at Car Art Interiors took care of the insides. And my dear Stephany found the parts. All of which are factory original, not repops. It was finding the car to begin with that was the real bitch.”

“We can thank the Dodge dealer that replaced Beth’s Charger for that. It seems that Dodge likes to keep track of these little beauties. For some reason they don’t want too much of the design to get out into the open markets.” Mom snarked.

“But why? I mean I was happy to go look for something new.” I figured I would tell the truth. “I mean we can’t replace the Judge. I was over at Jake’s place earlier. At best all she’ll ever be good for from now on is a show car.”

“The Knights wanted to show their thanks for what you’ve done for them and this town Bobbie. You may not know it, but you got a rather colorful nickname amongst the street racers. They wanted to give you a car that fit that nickname.” I knew exactly what nickname Jake was talking about. I tried very hard to get away from that name, but it has stuck with me ‘Rattler’. Just like my namesake I’m a real viper in the grass when I race. I sit back wait for you to make a mistake and then strike. “We couldn’t find you a Mustang Cobra, but then again you’re more of a Supreme Super Snake. So, we went looking for a Viper instead.”

“Don’t worry about the paperwork. I took care of that this morning while you girls were out driving around. She’s fully registered in your name and insured. Any questions?” Mom said as she handed me the keys to the beautiful car.

I turned to her with a smile. “Is the Lady open for a trial run?”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 25
Saturday, Darlington, SC

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing. I fumbled to find it on my nightstand as I forced my eyes to focus on the alarm clock. When I saw the time, my mood went straight to the red line bitch mode. I snarled out. “Whoever this is better be fucking dying or in need of severe fucking medical attention.”

“Sorry but is this Roberta McGuire?” The voice asked.

“Yes, it is. Now, start talking.” I snapped.

“Um… yes, I’m with Hartwell, Hartwell, and Lowe attorneys. We represent the Green family. My name is David Kent.”

I sighed. “Mister Kent do you have any idea of what time it is? If you don’t let me point out that I’m not an agreeable person at six in the fucking morning. You have to the count of ten to start making sense. After that I’m hanging up.”

“Oh, my I didn’t realize the time deference was so much. I thought it would be closer to ten am there.” The man said. That got my attention and give him a little more leeway.

“Mister Kent, just where are you calling from?” I asked out of politeness more than curiosity.

“London, England Miss McGuire. I apologize for waking you. If I had realized the time deference was greater than what I thought, I would have waited tell later this afternoon before contacting you.” I could tell the man really was sorry.

“Okay, Mister Kent you have my attention. Now what can I do for you at this hour?” I really did want to know. “You said you represent the Green family. Who are they sir?”

“Ah yes to the point. Just like most young Sports stars, I see.” The man’s condescending tone almost got the phone hung up in his ear. “This concerns the two-hundred-eighty acres that you place a bid on there in Darlington county.”

That real got my attention. “I know that I made an offer on some property here in my home county sir. What I want to know is how did you come by this information?”

“The property is owned by the Green family. Our firm handle all of the Green family’s business in the US. That property you are interested in is one of the Green family investments.” I wasn’t liking where Kent’s explanation was going. I also wondered why he was calling me directly and not Vicky. I smelled a rat.

“Then why aren’t you talking with Mrs. Taylor over at Taylor Realty? If you really are a lawyer you should know that you have to contact her in the first place, Mister Kent.” I figured that I would cut the bullshit.

“I was given exact instructions concerning that property by our clients to contact you directly Miss McGuire. The Green’s wish to handle negotiations directly. Just between us and you.” I could tell that something was smelly. And it didn’t smell like pancakes.

“Just what were these instructions sir?” I figured I could get a little more out of the man. Before I told him to piss off.

“First they want to know if the offer you made was a legitimate one. If so, are you open to negotiations on the lake? And lastly if not, what is your upper limit?” I could tell that Kent was fishing for information. Why I didn’t know or care.

“Sir, I suggest that you contact our Realtor Vicky Taylor for that information. Oh, and never contact me directly again. You do and I’ll have your ass on a silver platter.” I was now pissed.

“Miss McGuire please wait.” I stopped just short of the off button. “I really do represent the Green family. They are one of England’s most prominent families. The property you wish to purchase is currently owned by the Green family. They’re trying to rid themselves of that property. Due mostly to back taxes.”

“Okay buddy-boy you got my attention. Only someone who knew the taxes situation of the property would be trying so hard to keep me on the line. Now, that that’s out of the way this is what is going to happen. We’re gong to wish each other a good morning then hang up after you leave me your number. Then after I have checked you out, I might call you back at noon my time. Not noon your time, but mine. You want to work this deal privately that is what has to happen. Do we have an accord?” I know that I was being pissy but you try being friendly when you first wake up.

“Done. Have a good morning Miss McGuire.” With that the phone went dead and I went back to sleep.

I woke two hours later a little after eight. I quickly took care of my morning toiletries and dressed for the day. I didn’t feel like running today. Besides I needed to get with Kelly this morning. I dressed in my usual jodhpurs, blouse, and knee-high boots with low heels. I headed down stairs and grabbed some cereal and milk for breakfast. Mom left a note on the counter that she and dad would be at the shop all day and Joey was with them.

As I ate, I called Vickey and told her about my early morning conversation with Kent. She told me that she would double check this Kent guy and the so-call lawyers out for us. After I hung up, I sent a fast text to Beth letting her know that I had to pick her up at eleven and we needed to be over at Vicky’s office by noon. As I sat there eating, I wondered where Beth was this morning. That question was answered as I put my dirty bowl and glass in the dishwasher.

“Damn sis, what did you do spend the night out?” I asked as she stumbled in blurry eyed. She definitely had the fresh fucked look down pat. The only thing that was missing was her soiled panties hanging out of her purse.

“I spent the night over at Tommy’s.” She answered with a grin as she pored herself a cup of coffee. “Bobbie, I know that you talked with Kelly about getting your own place. Who did use?”

That got my attention. I looked over at her and smiled. “So, he finally asked you to set a date? So, when is it?”

“After the season is over. We really want to get married here in Darlington. Tommy wants to have as small of wedding as possible.” She gave me sly smile. “We don’t want the old bats getting in on ours the way they did with yours and Kelly’s.”

I sighed and hugged Beth. “Trust me I know what you mean. I swear it has taken everything Kelly and I have to keep them out of our wedding plans. If it wasn’t for us agreeing to the engagement party in Germany, they won’t have backed off.”

“By the way why you up so early? I mean it is Saturday. I’ve never seen you up this early except for Qualifying. Are you going, somewhere important?” Beth asked smiling.

“I got a call from some asshat claiming to be an English Lawyer at six this morning.” Beth flinched at hearing this. She knew that I was not and never have been a morning person. “He claimed that he represented the owners of the property we want to buy.”

“Wait a minute. Shouldn’t he be contacting your Realtor instead of you? I mean there is a law about doing that right?” she asked in me in rapid succession. “By the way, why are you using Vicky Taylor? Why didn’t you used Tommy’s dad? I mean he has his Realty license. I’m sure he could have gotten you a good deal.”

“We didn’t use your fiancé’s dad for one reason. The possibility of insider trading or whatever they call it.” I told her honestly. I know that Beth wouldn’t have thought of that. “Sorry, sis but I couldn’t let him be seen as showing favoritism towards me. You and Tommy is one thing. As you two are family. Me and Kelly are just future in-laws and possible advertising persons for his business. I mean you and I are world famous Formula One drivers.”

“Damn girl, you really have thought about all this shit when it comes to our careers as drivers. Anything else you want to let me in on? I know that you’ve put more thought into it than I have.” I couldn’t believe what I was just hearing from Beth. She actually wanted my advice.

“I really don’t know right now sis. Wait a minute. Have you gotten a Personal Accountant yet? If you haven’t, I suggest that you do. I setup mine up right after Melbourne.” I didn’t know if she had or not. “Also, I know it sounds gruesome but have you, setup a will yet? I took care of that yesterday.”

“Got both of those taken care of already Bobbie. Did that after the wreck in Spain. Tommy was kind of persistent that I tick off those two things after that wreck. Not that I blame him. He refused to let me declare him as my beneficiary for any of my insurances policies or put his name in my will. He really does love me for me.” Beth assured me with a smile and hug. I was a little suspicious of Tommy when he first started dating Beth. I thought he was out for her money. Not anymore.

“I love you Beth, but I really have to be going.” I gave her a hug and headed for the door with purse in hand. “Why don’t you call me later. I’ll see if Kelly wants to double with you guys. Say dinner at Billy’s Big Barn for pizza?”

“Sounds good Bobbie. I’ll call you later around three to setup the time to meet. Right now, I need more sleep.” With a wave and yawn Beth headed upstairs to go back to sleep.

I just chuckled as I walked out into the garage. I stepped around Beth’s Charger and over to my Viper. I rubbed my hand over the fender and across the hood as I walked down the side to the door. I thought back to Thursday afternoon as I took my new car for a test drive. Five laps total around the Lady in Black. I was able to put down an impressive 166 mph during my second lap and a 177 mph by the time of my fourth lap. To say I was impressed by the handling and speed of the car would be an understatement.

I knew that I would own the roads of Darlington county with this beauty. Now I just needed to find her name. I thought about calling her Black Beauty but figured that was just too girly for this monster of a car. There was no denying her beauty. It was in her bodylines. There was no denying her power as it was in the rumble of her engine. I needed to find a name that bespoke to both of these amazing features. I pulled out my phone as I climbed behind the wheel and closed the door.

I hit the google translate app and set it to give me four translations. “Google, translate beautiful power.”

Bleep! “Italian bella potenza.” Bleep! “Norwegian vakker kraft.” Bleep! “Spanish hermoso poder.” Bleep! “German Schöne Kraft.”

“Damn none of those are worth a shit. I wonder what Latian would sound like? Google what is the Latain tranlation for beautiful power?” I ask aloud as I starter the engine.

My phone beeped faster than I expected it to. “Latin translation tenebris pulchritude.”

“Nope still not quite right. Google alternate translations Latin.” I called out hoping for a different translation. I got one. ‘Pulchra potestatem’ this one I liked but the sound wasn’t just right yet. “Google translate snake killer in Latin.”

This time I knew that I had the right name. Bleep! “Interfectorem anguis.” That was all I need to hear. I had my name for my Viper. I let a small smile grace my face as I put Interfictorem Anguis into reverse and backed out of the garage.

I reached over and turned on the radio that was installed by Sally and Car Art Interiors. I know that it isn’t the factory original and don’t really care. I would rather have this one than that piece of shit that came with the car. I tuned in our local ‘classic rock’ station, 104.3 wgtr ‘the Gator’.

As I pulled onto the street my phone rang. I stopped and hit the hands free. “Hello?”

“Hey baby. You on your way over?” It was Kelly.

“Yup. Should be there in about twenty minutes. You ready to go?” I asked her quickly as I signaled to make the turn.

“Just about. Can you stop and pick up a gallon of milk for us? Mom said she’ll pay you back when you get here.”

“Sure. I got to pass the Granger’s on the way. That okay?” I know that most people don’t like the milk from there is the only reason why I asked. I can’t tell the difference. I mean it all comes form the same cows, right.

“That’ll be fine baby. See you when you get here. Be careful.” She hung up after that and chuckled.

“I swear that girl is going to drive me crazy with her phone calls. Then again of the people I know she is the only one that can put up with my crazy assed lifestyle. I drive at over one-hundred miles per hour for a living. Tempt death for twenty-two weekends of the year. Not to mention the weekday practices and other test-runs on tracks all round the world.” I sighed as I pulled to a stop at a traffic light. “God, I hope we’re doing the right thing by getting married.”

Seven blocks later I pulled into the parking lot for Grangers Grocery. After parking I headed inside to find Kelly and her parents the milk, they asked me to get. Everything was going fine until I reached the check outline. That’s when all hell broke loose. I was swarmed by excided autograph seekers. It took me close to fifteen minutes before I was finally able to get out the store. Another ten to twelve to reach my car.

As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I breathed a real sigh of relief. “I don’t care what Kelly wants. From now on there is no way in fucking hell that I’m going near that place again.”

It only took me ten minutes to reach Kelly’s once I was on the streets. As I pulled into the Ringwald’s driveway, I spotted both of her parents’ cars. “Strange. They should be at work by now.”

I was greeted by Kelly’s dad at the door. “Morning Mister Ringwald. I thought that you had the shift today?”

“Nope. Both Carol and I have the next two days off.” At my puzzled and very confused looked, Dan explained. “When we traded shift days to be off when you girls first got home it moved our normal workdays around for the next month.”

“Um… Mister Ringwald, could you answer a question for me?” I asked him politely. Dan just nodded his head. “I never really understood the way your shifts work. Could you explain that for me?”

“The main reason behind Carol’s and mine shifts is simple. Burnout from over work. See, we put in twenty-four-hour shift days. By law we have to have the next forty-eight-hours off. We end up working one day on and two days off that way. Now, next month when I transfer over to the River Rescue Squad, I’ll be going to a one-three work schedule. As will Carol at that time. She passed her Lieutenant’s exam. She’ll be in charge of one of the other boats.” Dan Ringwald was smiling the whole time. “Don’t worry we’ll be there for your girls’ wedding.”

“Thanks for answering my question sir. Can you answer another question for me? This one is about Kelly’s feelings towards owning land. When we were in Vicky’s office Kelly asked about mineral and water rights. She got really hot over that. What was all that about?” I tried to ask Kelly about it the other night, but she just shut me down. She wouldn’t talk about whatever it was that haunted her. I knew that it had something to do with what had happened to a few of the farmers in the area in the 70’s.

Dan sighed. “Back in seventy-eight my brother, Kelly’s uncle Rick, was a cotton, corn and soybean farmer over in Clarendon Country. He’s my older brother and had inherited the family farm. Then around about the time Kelly was ten or eleven Rick lost the farm to some corporate suit monkeys.”

“What happened?” I was really interested in hearing the full story behind this. I mean this is something I had never heard before.

“Rick needed to drop a new well for water on his back forty. About one-ten, one-twenty, he hit the Black Creek sand aquifer. The problem was these suite monkeys claimed that he was intruding on the Black Creek Natural Water bottling company’s water rights.” I looked over at Dan in shock. “Yup, you heard me. BCN stole my family’s farm. They didn’t need guns to do the job. Just a bunch of fucking lawyers and a court of law. They ground my brother down claiming he failed to file for the water rights on that part of the family farm. Which sadly he had failed to get the needed permits for that well. That was all the greedy bastards needed.”

“Damn. I thought that you didn’t need a permit to put in a well?”

“Sadly, you do. Even here in the farm areas of the South Carolina. It is one of the reasons why lawyers are always involved in realty deals. To ensure that all permits, taxes, and leans are cleared before closing. Also, that there is no contest to mineral or water rights for those properties.” Dan explained.

Talk about getting a fast and nasty education in the world of real estate law. “I think I already figured that one part out. I had some joker call me from England this morning claiming to be the lawyer for the owners of the property we’re looking at. I gave the poor bastard an ass chewing for waking me at six am.”

“Good Lord! Who in their right-mind would dare to contact you on a day off at six in the morning? I mean they would have to have death wish or something. Everybody knows how you are until you have your first cup of coffee and breakfast.” Kelly giggled then held up her hands as if they were claws and growled. “I’m not even that brave and I’m sleeping with you.”

“Some jackass by the name of Kent. The stupid ass didn’t take in the time difference between London and here. That’s why we need to be over at Vicky’s at noon.” I gave her a lop-sided grin. “Don’t worry. I already contacted Vickey and gave her a heads-up.”

“That explains the text. Did the numb nut at least give you an idea why he was calling? Or did you just bight his head off and hang up on his ass? Did you at least greet him politely?” As usual Kelly was in her rapid-fire question mode. I thought she run out of breath before getting all of her questions out.

I gave her a loving look and then answered her questions with single word answers. “Yes. No. Maybe.”

Dan and Carol just chuckled as Kelly stuck her tongue out at me as I smiled. “Okay smartass. I’ll give you time to answer.”

“Thankyou, dear. Yes. Mister Kent told me that he was the legal representative for the family that owns the land that we’re looking at. He was calling to find out if our offer was firm and if we were open to negotiations. No. I didn’t just bight his head off and hang up on him, but it was close. As for being polite with him that is up for debate. You know how I am at that time in the morning. For me I was very polite.” I blushed over that last part.

Carol wrapped me in a warm and forgiving hug before she pushed me towards the table. “It’s okay Bobbie. We all know how you are when you first wake up. You’re bad, but not as bad as some people we know. Take Dan’s old Station Captain, Bill Martin.”

“Lord, now there is a real bear first thing in the morning. It’s a good thing Bill isn’t a Paramedic. The man lacks all social skills of any type. He can command a fire station with no problem but don’t ask him to handle a crying baby or hysterical woman. He goes completely braindead.” Dan chuckled.

“Um… how did he ever pass his exams? I mean he has to have some skills long those lines. Doesn’t he?”

Dan gave me a sly smile. “He learned to work around his weaknesses long ago, Bobbie. He always has at least one female Paramedic or firefighter on his crews. Just to handle those types of situations. Just as you have specialized people on your pit crew, Bill did the same thing on his crews.”

I just nodded my head at how the Fire Captain found his work-around. It all made perfect sense to me. Dan and Carol smiled as I put two and two together and came up with the correct answer. Kelly though was looking at her parents in confusion. “Okay what am I missing here mom?”

“Dear, our Captain has all the subtlety of a bull on roller-skates in a china shop when dealing with the public. Much like Bobbie here. She may look all sweet and innocent on the outside, but underneath is a boiling volcano waiting to blow at the drop of a hat.” Carol gave me a sad smile. “Sorry Bobbie but it is the truth. We’ve always known about your temper. The only time you ever let it out though is on the track or in a rat-race.”

At my dirty look Dan just chuckled. “That is why no one has ever brought it up around you. It’s also why we’ve never had a problem with you dating our daughter, Bobbie. Your self-control is one of your greatest strengths. One that Carol and I respect greatly.”

“I won’t say that sir. I keep losing control on the track. I fight to keep myself from going over the edge with each race.” I know that I can be honest around Kelly’s parents.

“Kiddo, that is one thing that I doubt will ever be a real problem for you.” Carol placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “You know your limits. I don’t think too many of the other drivers that you race against know just how close you take things to the edge. Yet, you always pull back just before crossing the line. We’ve watched your races on TV. We can tell when you’re pushing the outer edge of your control.”

“Carol is telling you the truth Bobbie. More than a few of the First Responders in this county have started to follow you and your sister.” Dan chuckled. “Those two young men that joined the department as drivers got the ambulance crews hooked. Thanks to the rotation almost every shift is pulling for you girls.”

I decided to change the topic. “Any idea of how I should handle that joker from England?”

“With extreme care. I’m not up on the laws concerning real estate in England but if I was you. I would get the lawyers that handled your racing contract to go over the paperwork. I would also double check for the exact amount of the back taxes. Kelly told us that there is a large tax lean currently due.” Dan said honestly.

“Don’t forget about those mineral and water rights. They will cover the lake. Without those that twenty-acre plot can push for access to the lake.” Carol warned us. “You can register that lake with DNR for a tax write off.”

That got both mine and Kelly’s attention. I asked the same question that was on both our minds. “How?”

“DNR can use the lake as a hatchery for certain types of fish. Once a year they come in dump off a truck load of babies. The next year they come back and drag a net across the lake. Once they have the grown fish, DNR dumps them in lakes all around the state.” Carol explained for us. “At least that’s how I think it goes. I’m not real sure. You’ll have to talk with a DNR officer to fully understand how it works and how to apply.”

“Sounds good to me. By the way, what kind of a tax write off are we talking about? About how much could it save us?” I knew that Carol did the taxes for more than half the ambulance crews.

“I’ll have to check with the new laws, kiddo. But under the old laws it was somewhere around a thousand per acre of stocked lake.” Carol answered honestly. “I really do need to brush up on the laws before next season. Especially for you girls.”

“Um… Mrs. Ringwald, I know that this is going to sound like I’m being unappreciative, but I’ve got a CPA to handle my finances.” I blushed clear down to my blouse. “I’m trying to keep my family life and business life separate. I know it sound crazy, but I can’t help feeling that way.”

Carol and Dan smiled. Dan looked between Kelly and me. “That is quite alright Bobbie. We both understand what you’re trying to do. You want to stand on your own feet, and we applaud what you have done already. We’re only give you advice on what we think that you might have missed. Just remember that you can always come to us if you have questions or problems.”

“Yes sir. We will.” I looked over at Kelly. “I hate to say this, but we need to get going Kell.”

“Just let me put my dishes in the sink.” Kelly got up and put her dirty plate and glass in the sink. She gave Carol and Dan a kiss then ran to get her purse. I got up and shook Dan’s hand and gave Carol a kiss on the cheek.

It didn’t take us long to reach Vicky’s office once we left her home. As we pulled into the parking lot, I spotted Mr. Dewey’s car. “Wonder why he’s here?”

“No need to wonder. Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe have built up a real reputation for legal affairs ever since you and Beth signed those contracts. Not to mention the ones for the guys with the Knights. I’ll give you ten-to-one odds that Vicky called Mister Dewey the minute you hung up this morning.” Kelly snarked.

I thought about what Kelly just said and just nodded my head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s get inside and see what’s going on. I got a feeling that this is going to be fun.”

Kelly just rolled her eyes at me and climbed out of the Viper. As she closed the door Kelly looked over at me. “Bobbie, I know that you love your new car. But if we’re going to be a couple and start a family. We need something different. What do you think about the new Jeep Gladiator Rubicon? I know it’s a truck, but if we get that property, we’ll need a truck.”

I thought about what Kelly was suggesting. “Sounds good to me baby. Look around find one that YOU like. Just go ahead and pay cash for the truck. Just make sure that it is a King or Crew cab, with four doors, full-bed, eight-cylinder, four-wheel drive, with a trailer hitch. Other than that, I don’t care. This one is all on you my dear.” I smirked at Kelly as I tossed back over my shoulder. “Oh, and by the way. Your budget is eighty-grand.”

I ran inside Vicky’s office before Kelly could respond to that last tidbit. I know that she won’t confront me in public over something like that. As I enter the secretary stood up to greet us this time. “Good afternoon, Miss McGuire, Miss Ringwald, both Mrs. Taylor and Mister Dewey are waiting for you in the main conference room. Please head straight back.”

“Thank you, Miss Wells. Come on Kelly. Let’s not keep Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Dewey waiting. I have a feeling that we might be getting a better deal than we expected.” I led Kelly towards Vicky’s back office area. Vicky surprised me when she waved for us to join them in the conference room. I knew then and there that something big was in the works. I just wonder how big.

“It’s been a long time Bobbie.” Mr. Dewey said as he greeted us. He waved for us to take seats across from them. “Please have a seat. We have a lot to go over before the phone call from England.”

Mr. Dewey opened his briefcase and pulled out a set of folders. “For starters I spent the morning checking, rechecking, and double checking this Kent joker’s credentials. He’s as legit as they come. He really does work for Hartwell, Hartwell, and Lowe attorneys at law. Which by the way is one of the most respected law firms in the greater London area.”

“Damn, talk about your heavy weight lawyers. Just who are these people? The Queens own lawyers?” I joked.

“They just maybe, Bobbie.” Mr. Dewey answered straight faced. “As I was saying Kent is the real deal. I also contacted the gentleman in question.” Mr. Dewey chuckled. “He really is sorry for waking you at such an early hour. I do have to ask one question?”

I knew what was coming and gave him the answer he was looking for with a smile. “Yes. I really did say ‘Whoever this is better be fucking dying or in need of severe fucking medical attention.’”

Vicky spit coffee, Mr. Dewey coughed, and Kelly just groaned. I gave them all a half-cooked smile. “What can I say? I’m not a morning person. It’s not my fault he called me at six am.”

“I have to say Bobbie. You never cease to amaze me. I would love to sit here talk more about how you can correct a person’s manors over the phone in under a minute. Unfortunately, we still have a good deal to go over yet.” He placed the second folder in front of us. “This is the full tax record for ninety-two Calhoun Road, Darlington County. Two-hundred-and-ninety-nine-point-seven of prime acreage of mostly wooded property on the edge of the county.”

I looked down at the spreadsheet and got a nasty feeling. The back taxes were much higher than originally expected. By more than a $150,000. I wasn’t looking forward to the phone call later. Then I saw who the owners were and damned near shit. I thought that the owners were some monkey nuts in England, not the Green family from the Grand Strand. This was going to be fun if the Grand Strand Greens were involved.

“Before you ask Bobbie. Yes, the Greens in England are the same Greens here on the Strand.” I looked up at Dewey like he grew a second head. “When Vicky contacted me on Wednesday, I started the leg work on that property. That folder is the bad news.”

He placed a second folder in front us. “This is the good news. If you want the whole enchilada. You can pick it up for around four-hundred-and-fifty thousand. Just to cover the back taxes on that property. My suggestion is to let them make their counteroffer but don’t go over five-hundred-and-twenty-five thousand.” Mine and Kelly’s eyes most have come out of their sockets. “I know that sounds like a lot, but it will cover the back taxes while giving them a small profit.”

“When you said the whole thing. Are you talking about all four properties? I don’t really understand what’s going on.” I let my confusion fill my voice over the situation.

“Okay, Bobbie, here is the deal. Fifteen years ago, the Green family invested two-hundred-and-fifty thousand in that property. At the time it was a going concern as a horse breeding farm. Then the bubble popped in oh-eight. The Carter family who were the half owners sold out completely to the Greens at that time. The Greens tried more than six farm managers to keep the place going. When the last manager walked out in a fit of rage two years ago the Green family decided to sell the property off. Now, two years ago the property was worth close to seven hundred to seven-hundred-and-fifty thousand. When the Greens divided the property, they made one massive mistake that devalued everything.” Dewey explained for us. I was pretty sure I knew what that mistake was already. “They split up the lake, but not the water rights.”

“Let me guess. The only way that I get full control over that lake is to buy all four lots. Because the plot with the house and other buildings is the one that is tied to the water and mineral rights. What I want to know is why are the taxes so far in the rears. What happened? It’s not like the Greens couldn’t afford to pay.” I know that the Greens had the money. I mean when you own three of the biggest resorts in Myrtle Beach. You don’t lack for money.

“It all goes back to when they broke the property down. One of the statutes that govern the taxation of property concerns farm property. When the Green family broke the old horse farm down, they failed to redesignate the forested areas as a tree farm. If they had tried to sell the property as a whole this would not have been a problem as the taxes would have remained the same for a horse farm. Tree farm taxes are much higher. By more than forty percent.” I was floored by just how steep the taxes were on farms. “Now this is where things get interesting.”

“More than they already are?” Kelly grunted.

“If Kent turns down your offer you can go down to the county courthouse and pick that property up for just the four-hundred-and-fifty thousand in back taxes if you want. Before you ask, I already doubled checked with Bob Wentworth down at the State Tax Office. The bad news is the Green family has a hundred-and-twenty days to come up with the oldest year’s back taxes.” That gave me pause. I could already see what the Greens were doing. They were not paying the property taxes on purpose. They were using the back taxes as on the property as an end of the year tax write off.

“Is there any way to prevent the Green family from jumping ahead and paying the back taxes? You know shutting that avenue down for us.” I asked him. This was a real worry.

Mr. Dewey chuckled. “I’m glad to see that your quick mind can work outside of a racetrack. The answer is yes. What we have is time on our side. They still want to try an negotiate a deal with you and Miss Ringwald.”

“What do you think Kelly? How do you want to proceed?” We had driven by the property yesterday. I knew that Kelly wanted the property. She had already fallen in love with the land.

“I say we try to be polite and hear them out. But we don’t go over the five-fifty cap we set.” Kelly gave me a smile that said it all. She may want me to only go to 550,000 but I had 750,000 sitting in the bank to use. She wanted that land, she’ll get it.

“Make the call Vicky.” Was all I said.

It took a few minutes to make the connection and then to finally get ahold of Kent. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Afternoon Mister Kent. Vicky Taylor here. I have Miss McGuire, Miss Ringwald, and their lawyer Mr. Dewey with me.” Vicky said quickly. “Please be advised that we are on speaker.”

“Understood. Before we start I would like to apologize to Miss McGuire once more for waking her earlier this morning.”

“Apology accepted sir. But only if you’ll forgive me for my own rudeness. I’m afraid that I’m not a very pleasant person when I first wake up.” I blushed as Vicky, Kelly, and Mr. Dewey chuckled.

Kelly just made the matter worse. “That’s an understatement. It’s safer waking a dragon on its hoard than waking Bobbie at six am.”

Even I had to chuckle at Kelly’s description of me when I first wake up. I had this picture in my head of a dragon with my face playing the part of Smog from the Hobbit movies. I just couldn’t help but to wonder how the other drivers see me on the track.

“As pleasant as a diversion as was that was, time is pressing.” Kent told us all. “As I asked of Miss McGuire earlier. My clients are wondering if her offer is legitimate. If it is, is she open to negotiation? Also, what is her top offer?”

“First off, Barrister Kent. Under the laws of real estate twenty-ten in the US it is illegal for you to contact a potential buyer directly. We will overlook this on one major concession.” Mr. Dewey went straight for the throat.

“What might that be?” Kent asked.

“There will be no discussion of an upper limit. Do we have an accord?” Dewey definitely knew what he was doing.

“Agreed. Are there any more conditions?” Kent knew that he had screwed the pooch big time by calling me earlier.

“I got one before we go further. You put your phone on speaker and all parties identify themselves.” I called out before anyone else could say something. I had a feeling that Kent wasn’t alone.

We heard a click. “Very perceptive of you Miss McGuire. What gave us away? Barrister Kent assured us that you won’t know we were here for the negotiations.”

“Care to identify yourself sir? I hate dealing with a nameless voice on the phone.” I growled.

“John Green. CEO of Green Global Properties.” Just the person I wanted to deal with. Not one of their flunkies or suit monkeys.

“Good evening Mister Green. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Even if it is over the phone.” I let my real pleasure at dealing with the CEO of one of the largest Hotel chains in the world fill my voice. “As for how I figured that you would be there it is simple. I drive at over one-hundred-and-fifty miles per hour for twenty-two weekends of the year for a living. I have to be able to think fast on my feet. If I don’t, I’d lose the race. You had your lawyer call me at six am knowing full well the time difference. All in the hopes of catching me off guard. I knew full well that after I ripped into Barrister Kent, he would have you or one of your suite monkeys in his office for the negotiations.”

“I must say Miss McGuire, that I made a major mistake in underestimating you. I see that your ability to think fast on the racetrack is more than just a skill for driving. You must have caused your teachers all kinds of headaches.” Green chuckled.

“More than a few. Shall we discuss ninety-two Calhoun Road, Mister Green?” I figured that we both had our egos stroked enough.

“I understand that you placed an offer of four-hundred-thousand on the property, Miss McGuire. I’m afraid that offer is too low for the value of the property. At the time of the last appraisal that property was valued at seven-hundred-and-fifty thousand. We would need at least seven-hundred-thousand for the land alone.”

“Wrong sir. Both of my parents and I stopped by and inspected the property yesterday. At one time that property may have been worth seven-hundred-and-fifty thousand. That is no longer the case.” Kelly spoke up quickly. When she continued, I knew that she would be our ace in the hole during negotiations. “The barns and stables are in desperate need of repair. The fence line for the corral has more holes than swish cheese. The water and feed stock tanks will all need to be replaced. The riding trails are all overgrown to the point they are totally worthless. As for the main house. Sir, all I can say is that the best thing for that place is a wrecking ball or firebomb. Did you know there is a tree growing through the front porch? According to five reputable building contractors for the area it would take more than five-hundred-thousand dollars to make all of the needed repairs. If not more.”

“I wasn’t aware that the property was in such disrepair. Of course, we’ll need verification of those statements. May I know how you gained access to the property?”

“I can have Mrs. Taylor fax the pictures we took within the hour, Mister Green. Trust me sir. What I have told you is just the tip of the iceberg. As for how we gained access. My father used his position as a Fire Inspector to inspect the property. I won’t even go into the number of violations that were found.” Kelly smirked then went in for the kill. “We were willing to pay four-hundred-thousand for the property sir. That offer still stands. No more.”

I looked over at Kelly as my mouth fell open. I thought I was a hard ass when it came to negotiations. Kelly was putting me to shame. I waved for her to show me the pictures which she placed on the table for all to see. Mr. Dewey picked up the pictures first. He coughed to gain Green’s attention.

“Mister Kent, Mister Green, I have the afore mentioned pictures in my hands. Gentlemen, I have to say that Miss Ringwald has greatly undervalued the impact of the neglect. If I were to pay for an independent appraisal, I doubt that you would get so kind of an offer. I will be honest with you gentlemen. I won’t give you more than one-fifty at most for the land. Especially as there is no controlling writes to the water on the individual properties. Yes, I investigated as to which plot has the controlling interest for the water rights. Which belong to the front twenty-acre plot.” Mr. Dewey explained. We waited while the silence from the other end seemed to drag on.

“May I have moment to discuss your offer with my client?” Kent asked of us. I just nodded my head yes. Mr. Dewey told them yes.

We heard the elevator ignore music fill the room. I looked over at Vicky and Mr. Dewey. “Well, do you think they’ll go for it?”

“Hard to say.” Vicky looked over at Kelly. “By the way why didn’t you call me to see the property?”

Kelly giggled and I looked at her. “This is one time where having a Fire Inspector in the family comes in handy. I told daddy that we were looking at the property and he just pulled the needed permits to examine the property for fire code violations. He took me and mom out there to walk the property while he checked out the barns, stables, and main house, from the outside.”

“Miss Ringwald, I don’t know if that is a violation of ethics or not, but it is sneaky as hell and legal.” Mr. Dewey chuckled.

Before I could chime in on what Kelly had done the music stopped. Mr. Green was the one to speak. “Miss McGuire, Miss Ringwald, will you be willing to go to four-fifty and cover the back taxes?”

I thought it over and shook my head no. “Sorry, Mr. Green. But our offer includes the back taxes. We will not cover your responsibilities to the State of South Carolina.”

There was silence on the other end of the line before Green made his counteroffer. “Make it five-hundred-thousand Miss McGuire and the property is yours. We’ll cover the back taxes.”

I thought about his offer and turned to Kelly. She used her fingers and signaled our next offer. “Mr. Green, we’ll go to four-seventy-five and you still cover the back taxes.”

Green’s answer was immediate. “Sorry, Miss McGuire but to cover the back taxes our final offer is five-hundred. I just cannot go any lower than that. I do have to answer to a board of directors. As much as I want to clear the property off our books. I do have to show some profit on the sale.”

Kelly spoke up. “Can we have a few moments to discuss your offer?” Green said and Vicky hit the hold button. “I say that we wait and pick it up for the back taxes.”

“Babe, I love you, but this is one time I say we don’t gamble. Sure, we can try and snatch it up for back taxes. The problem is all they have to do is bring the oldest year up to date and they get another year to play with. No, we take them up on their offer. Don’t worry about the money. We got more than enough to repair the house first. I figure we can get a loan to repair the barns, stables, and corral. As for the fence line and trails that will give us something to do during the off season.” I figured I had her this time. Kelly just smiled. “What did I miss?”

Kelly blushed. “I lied about the cost for the repairs. It’s not going to cost anywhere near what I told Green. Uncle Steve said he can have everything done for under two-hundred-thousand dollars. He even knows someone will come in and clear all the riding trails for just the lumber.”

Vicky looked over at Kelly. “Young lady, do me a favor. Stay out of real estate. I have enough competition to deal with.”

I hit the speaker button. “Mr. Green we have a deal. Five-hundred-thousand dollars, you cover the back taxes, and we cover the closing costs. I’ll have Mr. Dewey and Mrs. Taylor fax you both the contracts. Would you like to conclude our deal today?”

“If you can provide the needed proof of funds, I have no problems. Mr. Kent?” I could tell that Green wanted to close this deal fast.

“I work for you Mr. Green. My time is yours.” Over the next hour and a half Vicky placed form after form in front of me and Vicky to sign. Mr. Dewey acted as both our lawyer and public notary. Faxes were sent and received. My accountant was contacted. Funds were set up for transfer. By four pm our time my head was spinning, and the deal was completed. In less than four hours I had spent five-hundred-thousand dollars. When all was said and done, Green wished us a goodnight, leaving just us and Kent. “Well ladies, the house is yours. You can take possession once all paperwork has been filed with the local authorities.”

Mr. Dewey quickly spoke up. “Remember Mr. Kent, your client has until close of business on Tuesday to clear the back taxes. Failure to do so is a deal breaker.”

“Understood Mr. Dewey. I’ll have the taxes cleared no later than COB Monday. When can we expect your client’s funds?” I was really starting to dislike the snotty attitude of the man.

“No later than COB your time Monday, Kent.” Dewey growled. “I suggest that you have everything ready to hand over by then.”

“Understood, Dewey. I’ll messenger everything overnight to your office. You should have it no later than noon your time Tuesday. Is that acceptable?” I looked over at Kelly who nodded her head yes. Dewey just smiled. “Please have one of the ladies present to sign the final paperwork.”

“Someone will be here to handle the paperwork, Mr. Kent. Have a pleasant evening. I hope you enjoy your dinner. Goodnight.” I said for all those there and hung up.

Vicky stood up smiling as she held out her hand. “Congratulations Bobbie, Kelly, you’re now homeowners. Remember that you can back out at any time during the next seventy-two-hours.”

“Allow me to give my own congratulations ladies. Miss Ringwald, I have to say that you are one sneaky negotiator. Nothing illegal just underhanded as they come. What made you keep the information on the property secret until we started negotiations?” Mr. Dewey asked her with a smile.

“Something that I learned from watching my future mother-in-law do. Only she was dealing with other race teams and the design of the new fuel cells that F-one cars are using.” I thought about what Kelly was talking about. “She kept pointing to how her design firm had the patents on the fuel cell and if they wanted to use them. Then they were going to pay for them.”

“What made you go out in the first place?” Vicky asked.

“Something you said about how no one has lived out there for the past few years, Mrs. Vicky. I wanted to know what kind of work we were letting ourselves in for. My parents did the rest.” Kelly answered honestly for us. “I thought we were only going to do a drive bye and see what was there. When we found the gate hanging open daddy just drove up the driveway.”

“What about the permits?” Dewey asked.

This time Kelly just giggled. “He back dated everything. It’s amazing what people will do for the fiancée of a professional racecar driver in this county.”

Vicky giggled as Dewey groaned. Me I just went with what was natural. I facepalmed hard enough to cause brain damage.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 26
Thursday, Hockenheim, Germany

I start backing down on the power as I enter pit row. I’m still feeling a little bit off from the jetlag. Not that it’ll matter come Saturday morning. By then I’ll be more than ready for Qualifying. Wednesday’s redeye flight really took it out of me. I wanted to stay longer but my job, my passion, was calling me. Out there on the racetrack is where I belong.

Some people are happy working the land as farmers. Some find happiness driving the big rigs across our nation’s highways. Some find the thrill of making million-dollar deals at the Stock Exchange the ultimate challenge. Then there are those that wish to serve the public trust as police officers, EMTs, and Firefighters the ultimate reward. People like Kelly’s parents.

I could go on and on how people find their own way the world. Only that would be a bunch of bullshit. It’s why we have our heroes. I never really wanted to be a hero or sports star but that’s what I have become. I don’t have many very many skills but the one that sets me apart is only one that few people can exploit. A love of highspeed and fast reflexes. I put these thoughts out of my head as I pull into the garage area and shutdown the engine.

Danny gives me a hand to climb out of the driver’s cockpit. As I pull off my helmet, balaclava, and gloves I’m smiling. “I love the setup Chief Hailee. I almost thought that I was going to take flight on Parabolika. If that hairpin wasn’t at the end of that section of the track this baby would have taken off.”

“Well, whatever you do, remember that this track can get away from you. Remember kiddo, this track was created by Mercedes as a test track for their cars back in thirty-two. It may seem like we got the homefield advantage, but we don’t. Remember every team here is on equal footing. You blink wrong, and this track will eat you alive. I’ve seen it happen one too many times over the years. If you doubt me, just ask our sponsors.” Chief Hailee looked at the Mercedes-Benz delegation standing in our pit area.

“Hear you load and clear, Chief. Any word on those replacement gears for the transmission? I know that the ones we do have are starting to get more than a little worn out.” I don’t care how careful you are when driving. Wear and tear on the cars and their parts will sooner or later put you out of a race. We were already on our second set of gears for the transmissions and engines.

“They came in on the flight with you. Didn’t your mother tell you?” Chief Marks asked as he walked up.

“Are you two kidding me? The day my mother tells me something concerning the operations of these two teams is the day that people in hell get ice water. I swear her and dad keep more secrets about what goes on in the shop than the FBI has in the J. Edgar Hoover files.” I looked around the pit area out of habit for Kelly. “Damn, this is going to be three very long days.”

Both men chuckled at my bitching, but it was Chief Hailee who put things in perspective for me. “Just think of it as practice for married life kiddo. By the way. Why did you leave Kelly at home?”

“I guess you guys haven’t heard yet. We bought a place on the edge of the county. Around three-hundred-acres of land with a house, garage, stable, barns, and corral. We closed the deal on Tuesday morning. Kelly stayed home to arrange for the contractors and cleanup of our new home.” I explained with a bright smile. I liked the sounds of that last part. ‘Our new home.’

“Damn I must say that you girls are doing it up right from the start. When do you plan on moving in?” Chief Marks asked.

“Hopefully after our wedding in Auston.” I looked over at the hauler. “She has her uncle Steve covering the repairs on the barn, corral, and fences. Her uncle has another contractor coming in to handle the home repairs and any remodel work that has to be done.”

I chuckled as I thought about that conversation with Kelly. When we signed the final piece of paperwork and took possession of the property, I told her that she was staying home. She demanded to know why before we were even out of Vicky’s office. At first, she didn’t like the explanation but conceded to the facts of life. One of us had to stay home and keep an eye on the repairs and few renovations that we wanted done. As she was the one with the connections in the construction industry and I had to be behind the wheel of a racecar. That left the job to her.

Our first stop after closing on the house was with my accountant. There I setup a three-hundred-thousand-dollar budget to cover the costs of repairs and renovations. I also put aside another hundred-thousand-dollars for household expenses. Kelly thought I had lost my mind, until Tom showed us both my year to date income. I knew that I was making a butt load of money but not just how much. Kelly almost fell out of her chair when she saw the figures. Then again how many teenage couples do you know of that are worth 1.9 million US dollars. Between both of our salaries that is how much we’ve earned so far this year.

Our only worry was that Kelly would have to pay some kind of penalty if she didn’t show back up for the rest of the season. Mr. Dewey pointed out that there were ways around any of those annoying clauses. The biggest one being my contract overread just about everyone else’s on the team. So, if I didn’t want Kelly at certain races, she didn’t have to be there.

“Why isn’t her uncle Steve handling the work for you kids?” Chief Marks asked me with his head cocked. “I mean the man does fantastic work. He did the remodel over at the B.S. Middle school.”

“We offered him the remodel job for the house, but he turned it down. He did tell say that he would keep an eye on the other contractors for us.” I smirked. “I think he doesn’t want to be seen as taking advantage of his soon to be famous niece-in-law.”

“I hate to say this, but you two girls and your sister will have to take things like that into consideration from now on.” Chief Marks sighed as he looked over at where the fans where taking pictures of drivers testing their cars. “I’ll give you even odds that among those fans there is at least a few paparazzi. Paparazzi with a telephoto lens camera just hoping to get a juicy shot of a driver. You kids have already had to deal with their bullshit.”

“It’ll only get worse the closer it gets to your wedding date, Bobbie. We know that you and Kelly love each other like there is no tomorrow. We figured that you would eventually get married. We just figured that it would have happened next season. We were expecting for you girls to live together for a while first.” Chief Hailee explained with a sly smile. “But as usual you go and take the green light on us. Along with the race to the checkered flag.”

I just smirked and gave them both a lopsided grin. “It’s not my fault you two old goats can’t keep up with the changing track conditions. I just got to get to the starting line.”

“And just what is the ‘starting line’ daughter?” Mom asked as she walked into our garage area.

“The wedding altar in Auston, Texas.” I answered honestly. “I just hope that Kelly doesn’t get cold feet and leave me standing there with a stupid look on my face. While she goes looking for a black Trans AM headed east bound in her wedding dress.”

Mom, Hailee, and Marks busted out laughing at the visual I just gave them. Danny Hailee though just had to get in on the act. “It won’t matter what car she tried to run away in Speedy, not when you’re driving that Viper of yours. I doubt there is a street or rat racer in the south that can outrun you.”

“I don’t care what you guys ever call me. So long as it isn’t Smokey. The first one of you monkey wrenches that does I’m taking out you for a little race around the nearest track.” I told them.

“Bobbie, the only law enforcement agency that would accept you is the MPF girlfriend. I swear you have more in common with Max Rockatansky than any State Trooper alive does. All you need is the leather outfit and double barreled shotgun pistols.” Danny snarked as he ducked the rag that I threw at him.

Greg Smokes coughed into his hand. “Heads up Bobbie. COWWs incoming at nine o’clock and closing.”

I looked over my shoulder as mom gave him a dirty look. She wasn’t the only one to get upset with my pit crew over the term COWW. I mean I know that the wives of the Mercedes-Benz CEOs are a pain in my ass. That doesn’t mean that they deserve to be called Crazy Old White Woman. Not that I don’t agree with them. All four of the women are crazier than shit house rats in my book, but I played nice with them anyway. After all they do hold most of the purse strings to our little racing team, not their husbands.

With a smile I turn to face them as they enter the pit area. As usual Bertha Mercedes was leading the charge. “Roberta lieber wo ist diese Liebe Verlobte von Ihnen?”

As usual I just groan at the woman’s use of German around me. “Mrs. Mercedes, please use English. My German is nowhere near good enough yet to carrying on conversation. I can barely order a beer, sausage, and side order of french-fries. I am working on that I promise, that I really am doing my best.”

“It is alright Roberta. I know. I just get so excited when I get the chance to see you anymore. You and your lovely fiancée have done so much for our company.” The grandames of Mercedes-Benz gather round me. Each hugging me in welcome. When Bertha stepped back, she handed me off to the next person in line. Finally, with the greetings out of the way Bertha once again looked around the pit area. “Where is the lovely Kelly by the way? Should she not be here at your side?”

“Kelly will be flying in later tomorrow evening ma’am. She won’t be joining me for the next few weeks except for actual race days. Sorry. She needs to be at home overseeing the repairs and renovations to our new home.” I blushed as I explained the situation for the four powerful women.

“Then it is true. You girls purchased your first home. I hope that is one that will become a forever home for both.” Bertha told me with a smile. “Have you thought any more about our proposal for changing your wedding to be held here?”

All four women were giving me a strange look as Tony stepped over to explain mine and Beth’s situation. The reason the four women were giving me strange looks had me giggling. “Mrs. Mercedes, there is an old saying in the deep South of United States. Never screw with a Southern-Bell’s wedding plans. They tend to start wars over such things. Prominent Historians both in the US and around the world say that our Civil War was fought over slavery and rights of States, ladies. The truth of the matter is far scarier and much more personal than that. It seems that a Congressman from the State of Maryland insulted the bride of a wealthy Plantation owner’s son from South Carolina. This led to a duel that ended with the Congressman lying dead on the field of honor. Which in turn led to the outbreak of war to avenge his death and her honor. A war that last for four long bloody years.”

I watched as the bullshit Tony spun for the four powerful women drew them in deeper and deeper. The more that I watched and heard the more another old saying came to mind. The old saying of ‘If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit’. I wasn’t the only one who was in the garage area who found the idea of a Civil War being fought over a wedding outlandish. Tony had both of our pit crews doubled over in hysterics.

Even the members of the Toyota team in the garage next door were having a hard time not laughing. Beth finally stepped over and punched him in the arm. “Enough already. Mrs. Mercedes please ignore everything that my fiancée just told you about our Civil War. That was nothing more than a line of bullshit.”

It took the four women a few seconds to realize what Beth was telling them. When they did instead of being pissed off as I feared they just laughed. Bertha Mercedes gave Tony a friendly smile. “Well played young man. That was quite the story you just told. Have you ever thought about writing those types of stories down? You have a knack to be a great author.”

“He has a few written down in his notebook. That was just one of them. The one that I love the most is a science fiction-love story set thousands of years in the future.” Beth blushed as she thought about that story for some reason. “But Bobbie and Tony do have one very important point about people messing with a Southern-Bell’s wedding though. They can and do get very nasty and extremely mean to the point of overprotective when it comes to their wedding-day dream plans. Some young ladies have even been known to send people to the hospital in fits of rage.”

The four women started chuckling at hearing this only to have mom cough to clear her throat. “Ladies, my daughters are not joking. If you should ever doubt this, you just need to google YouTube Southern-Bell Bridezillas.”

“Way to go mom! Just give them worst case examples of us!” Beth huffed as she crossed her arms under her breasts. “Mrs. Mercedes, trust me. That video is not a good example of a Southern-Bell.”

“Then what is Elisabeth? What would you say is a good example of these Southern-Bells?” Bertha asked her honestly.

“Anyone of the girls on our pit crews. It’s just there are just a few dreams that we all share and hold dear. The biggest one is the fairytale wedding that we’ve all dreamed about.” Beth gave me a glare that boarded on burn in hell. “We normally share them with our sisters. My problem is, I have a sister that lacks taste and imagination for thing outside of a race car.”

I just stuck my tongue out at her as the rest of the team chuckled. “I do not need imagination for my wedding. All I need to do is show up on time, wear something appropriate, then say ‘I do.’ Everything else is on Kelly. I would be happy with a Justice of the Peace and a courthouse wedding. I keep trying to get Kelly to elope. She just won’t go for it.”

To say that I just shocked the women of Mercedes-Benz was an understatement. The German was fast and furious as they discussed my threat of eloping. I watched as their faces filled with honor at the thought of Kelly and me eloping. The company had built up a whole campaign around us getting married. Sure, we had been able to keep the majority of control over how things went, but these four women were contentiously coming up with something new they would like to do for our wedding. I also just knew that was why they were in the garage area today. They had something new to bitch about. Something they wanted changed, added, or deleted.

“Relax, Mrs. Mercedes, we’re not going to elope. It’s an American joke about the heartburn surrounding weddings, and all the planning that goes into them.” I assured her with a smile. I watched as all four visibly relaxed at my assurance. “What can I do for you ladies today?”

“It is about the invitations to your girls’ wedding dear.” Bertha answered me with a smile. I saw that smile and smelled a rat. “We have concerns about some of the guests that you have invited.”

“May I know why you ladies have problem with our friends being there? I mean we’ve invited ALL the Executives for Mercedes-Benz. People that we barely even know. Originally, we only wanted a few friends and family to being with at our wedding. The current guest list is now over four-hundred.” I pointed out to them.

“We have no problems with your friends being there Roberta. We understand how important it is to young couples to celebrate such a momentous occasion with their friends.” Mrs. Maybach said stepping forward wearing the same rat-shit smile. “We only have a problem with a few of your friends attending.”

I turned to Danny Hailee, Jose Chamberlin, Will Hackney, Greg Smokes the four biggest snuff users on the pit crews. I held out my hand asking for my one vice when cornered and no place to drive. “Yo, guys! One of you got a Bandit?”

Jose Chamberlin pulled out one of his two tins and tossed it. “Keep the can, Bobbie. I got a feeling you’re going to need them.”

I opened the tin and placed one of the small poaches between my cheek and gum. I put the lid back on and tossed the tin back to Jose. “Thanks, but I only need the one, Jose.” I turned back to Bertha and the rest of the ladies. I was not happy. “Just who do you want us to remove from the guest list?”

The glare I gave the four women let them know that they were on thin ice. As I waited for their answer, I worked up a good wad of spit. Mrs. Maybach sighed as she finally answered my question. “It is these two car clubs Roberta. The ones from your hometown. Is there anyway we can get you to reconsider their invitations?”

“Mrs. Maybach, you do know that the Darlington Knights are your new NASCAR team, don’t you?” Beth asked the four women. At their blank looks sighed thankfully Beth was there for me. “That car club you have so blatantly dismissed is the newest part of the Mercedes-Benz racing industry and MRDI.”

“Und der other one? These Blue Demons, ja? They are not part of our team or MRDI. Why have you invited them?” Mrs. Jellinek wanted to know with more than a little heat. “Do you really want a bunch of ruffians at your wedding?”

Now, I was pissed. The tobacco juice that hit the floor was thick and heavy. The looks of disgust that graced the four Granddames of Mercedes-Benz was all I need to see. Yes, I know that it is a disgusting habit, but I had their full and undivided attention.

“Let me be perfectly clear ladies. Formula One maybe cocktail dresses, tuxedos, Champaign, and caviar, but this team along with its drivers are from the deep South. A place where college football is a religion, cotton is still the King, NASCAR rules on Sunday, and our drink of choice is an ice-cold beer. There will be no changes to the guest list. Kelly and I are the ones that decide who is and isn’t on that list.” I spit out another wad of juice.

I know that I just pissed in the old bats’ tea, but I really didn’t care. I was getting sick and tired of their meddling in mine and Kelly’s wedding plans. It was bad enough that we had to invite all those corporate suits to the engagement party and to our wedding to just appease these women. If it had been up to me, the only people at the engagement party would have been mine and Beth’s pit crews. I really need to talk with Kelly when she gets here tomorrow. Eloping is starting to sound better and better.

“Roberta, please understand our point of view.” Mrs. Maybach started off with trying to get in on the act. “We’re only looking out for your public image. You und Kelly are two of the faces for woman among Formula One racing. By having those unrefined people at your wedding could set women in the sport back by decades.”

Now I was really starting to get pissed. I needed to get out of the garage area and fast. I turned to Chief Hailee spitting out the Skoll Bandit pouch. “Chief is she refueled yet?”

“Give me five more minutes and she’ll be good to go Speedy.” Hailee turned to the guys in the pit crew. “Danny give her a hand getting strapped in. Move it people. We got one more practice run today, and I think our driver needs it.”

I glared at Mrs. Maybach as I put in my earbuds for my music and radio. Then pulled on my gloves and balaclava. “THEY may seem unrefined to you but to me they’re my friends. I grew up with people like them Mrs. Maybach. Salt of the earth people who will give you the shirt off their back when you’re in trouble. Please never insult them in that manner again.”

Danny helped me back into the cockpit of the car. Once there I connected and stuffed my iPod into the pocket of my leathers which I zipped upped. With my preparations for the test run done Danny handed me my helmet. I never looked back as I signaled Chief Hailee that I was ready and felt the engine fire-over. I shifted into gear and pulled out of the garage area. I kept my speed down as I headed down pit row. I hit the play button for my music just before I exited pit row. I just hoped something would come up on my playlist to help me calm down.

Back in the garage area.

Jewellianna Marry McGuire, Jewels to her friends, gave the four women a glare of pure pissed off, wet mad cat, anger. “You four better not be here when my daughter returns. Have you any idea of just how pissed off she is right now?”

“You have to understand our position here Jewels, please.” Bertha stated trying to defend their position. “They will have the eyes of the whole world on them. If there is even a hint of unruliness at their wedding it could come back to haunt our company. This purely a public relations matter decision. One that is made for their own good.”

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS?!” Her screech was heard across the enter garage area. Jewels had been trying to keep her cool up until that point. Her scream was so load that it brought her husband running from the transport trailer with a heavy torque wrench in his hand. Robert ‘Bob’ McGuire had been turning wrenches his whole life. First as a 91-H wheel mechanic in the US Army then as his wife’s chief shop mechanic. To say that he was ready for a fight was an understatement of the century.

“Jewels what the fuck is going on? Where the hell is Bobbie’s car? Why are our pit crews standing around like someone pissed in their Wheaties?” When he didn’t get answers straight away, he looked over at the four Granddams of Mercedes-Benz. With a growl from deep in his chest that barely contained his anger. “I better start getting answers to my questions now, ladies.”

“Boss, I suggest that we get these ‘ladies’ out of our god damn garage area before Bobbie gets back from her last test run. These stupid bitches have been interfering with Bobbie and Kelly’s wedding plans for far too long.” Chief Marks took Bob by the arm. “Bob this is one time that I think we need to let Jewels handle the ass chewing. I think she just might get through their thick skulls just how bad they FUCKED UP!”

Bob McGuire yanked his arm free of the team’s senior mechanic before rounding on the four women. “If my daughter get’s herself killed out there because she’s pissed off. You better pray that my wife gets to your asses first.” Looking around the pit area. “At least tell me that Kathy or her mom is up on the spotter’s tower. If they’re not, then where is Joey?”

“Don’t worry Mr. McGuire. Both Kathy and Coach Hall are still in the nest. Joey is up there with them.” Tony answer Bob while never taking his eyes off the four very unwelcome women as he popped his knuckles. “As for what pissed Bobbie off. I’m surprised it took this long. If they were to even think of trying half the shit that they have with Bobbie and Kelly’s wedding with ours. Let’s just say that I will be busting heads and dislocating joints.”

“Jewels get a fucking handle on this shit now or I’LL be the one pulling the plug. Let them try to sue our asses. Last time I checked we haven’t completed the first season. That means we still have the option to pullout and signing with another team. An option that I have no problem exercising.” Bob McGuire was many things but stupid wasn’t one of them. When the contracts were first written up, he made sure that option was in the contracts. He knew that once his daughters started showing off their skills behind the wheel more than a few teams would want them.

As her husband spun around on his heel and stormed away Jewels turned to face the four women. “Ladies I suggest that we take this elsewhere. And I’m not talking about have this conversation anywhere near the garage or pit areas. I highly doubt that my team want you here right now.”

Jewels didn’t wait for their answer and just headed off to find a nice out of the way place to chew their collective asses. Once they were outside of the garage area Jewels stopped. “We need a private conference room. Do you know where I can find one please?”

“I’m sure that we can use the one underneath the Mercedes-Benz grandstand Jewels. I believe that will fit our needs.” Bertha huffed. The old woman didn’t like where this was going. Mainly because she wasn’t in control.

Jewels just nodded her, turn on her heel, and marched toward the mentioned grandstands. While the walk wasn’t long it was made in silence. For the four granddames of Mercedes-Benz being told that they had no business interfering in Bobbie’s wedding was unacceptable. To be ordered out of the garage wasn’t something they had expected. Jewels though had far more going with her anger than just the wedding bullshit. And it was all revolving around Bobbie’s reaction in the pits.

Once they were alone in the conference room Bertha felt that she should take charge. “Now see here Jewellianna. Enough is enough. Why haven’t you just sat young Roberta down and told her how things are done? She just needs to accept that we know what is best. That we are just doing what is best for her career and our business.”

Jewels’ ear-piercing whistle cut through the room. When the four women finally looked at Jewels she snarled. “You four really don’t have any clue as to fucking who you’re trying to deal with. Don’t you realize you cannot force either of my daughters to do anything they don’t want to do. Especially when it comes to Bobbie.”

“Just what is so damn important about her wedding that she won’t compromise with us in the planning?” Mrs. Maybach demanded.

Jewels took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “You four really don’t understand, do you? Until three years ago Roberta never expected to live to see her eighteenth birthday. She never expected to find someone to love. She never expected to EVEN get the chance to be planning her wedding. For the love of God. She never even dreamed of being a professional driver. All she knew was death would soon come for her. She lives in fear of the day that she will be told that her cancer has returned. She knows that we all die sooner or later. Some sooner than expected and there is nothing we can do to change that fact. Unfortunately, she was reminded of this cold harsh truth twice in the last few months. First in Spain, and then again just before Silverstone.”

“I thought you said that her cancer is cured?” Bertha snapped.

“IT’S in REMISSION, Bertha! There is no CURE!” Jewels screamed at the woman before forcing herself to calm back down. “A very dear friend of Bobbie’s finally succumbed to her own battle with cancer just before we arrived in Silverstone. The girl’s cancer had returned after three years of full remission. Before the doctors spotted the signs, it was too late for Lisa. That child died never really having a chance to truly live beyond her teens. Never knowing the warm embrace of a man as a grown woman. Or what it means to hold one’s own baby. Bobbie lives with that fear.”

“Does she at least undergo routine checkups?” Bertha asked kindly.

“Once a month when we’re home. Why do you think we fly home at every chance we get? It’s so Bobbie can see her oncologist at every opportunity. Something that her father and I pay for out of our own pockets. There is no need for you or the other sponsors to get involved over. This is a very private family matter.” Jewels sighed. “Why do you think Bobbie pushes herself so hard out there? It’s so she can feel alive.”

“Excuse me Jewels, but that doesn’t make sense. If she is so driven to live her life, her way. Then why does she court death like she does out there on the racetracks?” Maybach questioned.

“Because Bobbie knows that life is too short to live in fear.” Even deep under the grandstand the five women could hear the scream of the engines as the cars roared by. “Out there on that track is the only place that Bobbie truly feels alive. That last car that just passed the grandstands. That sound is not the sound of a driver trying to find the right balance for the race. That ladies, is the sound of a driver trying to outrun their own anger.”

“Why is Roberta so angered with us, Jewels?” Bertha finally asked.

“You all think that what all you have suggested for the wedding as being prudent for her career. Your problem here is, in her eyes, you’re telling her how to live her life. Those people that you have so bluntly classified as hooligans are Bobbie’s friends. That entire guest list was supposed to be made up of nothing but her and Kelly’s friends. People that stood by her during the worst of the cancer as it ate way her hopes and dreams. You four telling Bobbie that her friends aren’t welcome is something she’ll never stand for. Neither will Kelly.” Jewels explained in simple terms.

“Is there any way that we can apologize for our over exuberance in trying to help the girls?” Bertha asked kindly.

“First, you’re going to pray that Bobbie calms down enough out there to not drive herself into a wall. Second, you’re going to forget about any ‘suggestions’ you’ve made for the girls’ wedding. Third, you’re going to find some way to apologize to the girls in front of everyone at the engagement party for your behavior.” Jewels fixed them all with an ice-cold stare. “Lastly, you will stay out of the pit area and garage areas for the rest of this season. Your presence has caused more heartburn that any team should have to deal with. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”

The granddames of Mercedes-Benz acquiesced to Jewels’ demands. They knew that they had pushed matters too far with Bobbie. They also knew that if they wanted to keep this very skilled and most of all, vaunted team they needed to do what Jewels wanted. For Bertha above all this was a bitter pill to swallow. For years the Formula One teams had been her personal little project. She had been the one that controlled how the teams operated. But when it came to the MDRI she had little or no control at all.

“Ladies I do have one more suggestion before we leave this room. Remember that clause in our contract. There are ten more races this season. We currently hold two of the top three positions in the drivers’ race, and the top position in the manufactures race. Should we pull out now your company gets a major public relations blackeye.” Jewels felt she should play one of the teams’ trump cards. Jewels’ reputation for never showing her whole hand when dealing in business was starting to show. “Now, if you’ excuse me I still have a race to get ready for on Sunday. And a future daughter-in-law to pick up.”

“We thought that Kelly wasn’t arriving until Saturday?” Bertha asked with more than a little surprise.

“She’s coming in this afternoon. Kelly wants it to be a surprise for Bobbie. She wants to be waiting for her in their hotel room when she gets done with practice and the test runs.” Jewels smiled. “This is one surprise I’m keeping.”

Out on the track.

I just powered down the front straightaway entering Nord Kurve as Scorpions’ Dynamite began to play. As the music filled my ears and soul, I knew that I was on thin ice. I was letting my anger drive me to push my car to the edge. I knew that I was in a dangerous mental state just then. One that could very well get me killed out here. Hockemhiem wasn’t like other tracks. This one had a nasty habit of reaching out and bighting someone in the ass.

It was a bigger snake in the grass than I was on the backroads of Darlington County. I swear Hockenheim is a real rattlesnake. One that is pissed off and ready to strike at the first mistake. I’m forced to give the track my undivided attention. Even in my anger I don’t fail to respect this track.

As I near turn 2, I hit my brakes and down shift into second gear. I work my way back up through the gears as I work my way through the first of three chicanes. I hit third gear in turn 3, and fourth gear in turn 4. As I exit turn 4, I hit the first DRS zone.

My exit off turn 4 onto the long winding straightaway of Parabolika lets me know that I just entered the second section of the track. I push the car as hard as I dare. That nasty righthander Hairpin of turn 6 comes out of nowhere. I dive hard for the inside curb hitting the brakes and down shifting to first gear. I exit the Hairpin I head for turn 7 and the Mercedes grandstands. As I barrel down the short straightaway from turn 7 towards the grandstands, I fight to keep from drifting through turn 8. I exit turn roaring away from the grandstands into the turns of 9-10-11. The left, right, right, chicane forced me to slow down but not enough to worry about the long run.

As I exit turn 11 onto the straightaway lets me know that I entered the last section of the course. I’m more than halfway through the course on my seventh lap and my anger is finally starting to wane. I hit turn the righthander of turn 12 like I own this track. I reenter the stadium area. I can already see that the stands have a few fans in them watching us practice. I hit the brakes and down shift for turn 13 heading for the final chicane. Turns 14, and 15 are a quick left-right combo that allows you to start picking up speed. I smile as turn 16 comes into view. It’s wide enough to do it and I have enough speed. I drop down to fourth gear and let my ass end slide out. I drift through the turn to the cheers of the gathered fans. I round the final turn of the course hitting the start/finish straightaway when I feel a funny vibration coming from the rear of the car.

“Chief Hailee I’m bringing her in. I think something is letting go in either the engine or transmission.”

“Any idea of which Bobbie?”

“None. All I got is a vibration. And one that is getting heavier by the second.” I was really braking hard and downshifting for all I was worth. There was no way I was going to plow in during a test run. Not after all the work I’ve put in over the last few days. Hell, I wasn’t going to endanger all the team’s hard work.

I had just entered pit row when the left rear tire came off. It dropped the car on the ground hard enough to damage the frame. I was able to get the car stopped in short order. I was already climbing out of the cockpit as my pit crew rushed to where the car now rested. It didn’t take them long to get one of the wreckers to help with the recovery of my car.

As I stood off to one side removing my helmet and gloves, I was pissed. Chief Hailee and Marks were already calling for the ‘crash carts.’ I knew that they would have my car up and ready for tomorrows test runs by COB. I looked over at my dad as he walked up to me. “Sorry, about the car dad.”

“Don’t worry about the fucking car, Speedy. Are you okay?” Dad asked me bluntly. “And don’t give me your old standby bullshit answer of ‘being a duck on the water’ either.”

“Really dad I’m fine. I got the car slowed down fast enough that I was able to control the drop. The second I felt that vibration I started shutting her down. What I want to know is what broke?” I know it sounded stupid, but it was a valid question.

“I got a feeling that it something let go in the differential. That or the final driveshaft snapped. Tell me about the vibration, baby girl. Was it heavy and low, or light and high? The usual shit.” I loved it when dad wanted me to explain how shit felt to me when I drove. He didn’t want the technical bullshit like mom. He wanted me to use my feelings to describe how the car reacted.

“It came out of nowhere dad. It hit hard and fast, it felt like I was sitting in the last car on the Rock-n-Roll rollercoaster as it rounded one of the steeper turns. Up until I rounded turn 17 everything was going fine. I think it might have been my fault dad. I was showboating out there on turn 16. I pulled a full drift through the corner for the fans. It doesn’t make sense though. The second that I poured on the power the transmission and engine responded like they were new.” I had been looking down at my feet in shame but looked back at dad as he put his arm around my shoulder. “Dad I must have pulled that drift a thousand times over the years. I know that I’ve done it over two hundred times on Formula One tracks around the world. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Why now?”

“Bobbie, honey, I think that there is something else going on here, more than just abnormal wear and tear. You said it felt like you were in the last car of the Rock-n-Roll during one of the steeper turns. Was that with or without the seat-bar down? Where you in the center or off to one-side?”

I thought about what dad was asking. “The bar was down and locked. I was in the center. And the padding on the safety bar was worn. Does that help you?”

“It does. Was there any shaking before the rear wheel let go? If there was how heavy was it?” Dad asked me.

“Now that you point it out. Right after I got onto pit row there was a sharp and sudden shaking just before the rear wheel let go. As for how heavy it was, I really can’t say. I was too busy trying to keep the car out of the safety wall and other garage areas. I didn’t want some other team bitching me out for destroying their car. There is something else. As I was entering pit row, I thought I heard a sudden high-pitched whine coming from the area of the transmission. I wouldn’t place bets on that though.” I blushed as I had to admit to my shortcomings.

“If you say that you thought that you heard a high-pitched whine. Then I believe you, Bobbie. Like your sister you’re more aware of your car than just about any other driver I know. You girls get out there and do things with my cars that takes my breath away. I’m not the only to have seen this either, Bobbie.”

I was now blushing from my hair to clear down to under the collar of my Nomex long johns. “What do you mean dad? I’m just a driver. What you and mom do is the real magic. Me, and Beth just show that magic to the rest of the world.”

“Bobbie I can sit down take the designs your mother dreams up and turn them into reality. Between the two us of us can design, build, and fuel those car designs. What we cannot do is take those designs and make them perform to their peak. You girls go out there, it doesn’t matter which track, and turn our cars into the speed demons they’re meant to be.” Dad explained.

“Dad we’re lucky, that is all. The luck of the Irish, you know. We each have our own set of skills that we bring to the game. Beth has an analytical mind that breaks down these tracks faster than anyone I know. I can tell you what needs to be done to the cars by the second lap to turn them into winners. I ‘feel’ my way around every track.” I figured that I needed to put things into perspective for my dad before I covered the next topic. “By the way dad. I’m sorry about what happened in the garage area earlier. I know that the garage is no place for that kind of shit. I promise to not let it happen again.”

Dad sighed. “Bobbie, you and Kelly should have come to me and your mother weeks ago. This shit should never have reached the point where it did. Look kiddo, I know that you want to handle your own problems. Be an adult about handling your own affairs and problems. Just don’t forget that we your parents are here for you girls, and we do know more than just cars.”

I had to chuckle at that. It was the same advice the Dan and Carol had given us. “I hear you dad. Still I shouldn’t have blown my top like. McGuire’s don’t air their dirty laundry in public. I hope that the COWWs didn’t cause you and mom any problems.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bobbie. As for the Crazy old white women, let’s just say that your mother showed her claws and fangs just after you left the garage. It was good thing too. I was more than willing to give them an introduction to my favorite ‘attitude adjustment’ wrench. I would have really hated having to replace that torque wrench. I just got the rubber on the grip broken in good. It’s nice and comfortable in my hands. I can get just the right amount of torque on a problem nut to break it lose.”

I couldn’t help it I started laughing. I could see it now. My mom in full blown mama bear mode defending her cub. My dad reverting back to his days as an Army 91-H wheel mechanic ready for a fight. It must have been a real shock to the Granddames to be faced with such a husband/wife team. When push came to shove my parents were not above a knock-down-drag-out pit row Redneck fight.

We were interrupted by Chief Hailee and Marks walking up to us. The two men each had a final drive rod in their hands. I took one look at the gear teeth and knew that we had a massive problem. So did dad. “Talk to me guys. How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as we would have expected. Though we can rule out sabotage. This is a case of simple metal fatigue. We’ve got the replacement parts so that is no big deal. That’s the good news. The bad news is we’re going to need at least eight to ten hours to get the repairs done on both cars.” Chief Hailee told dad.

“Why both cars, Chief Hailee? Mine’s the only that’s down.” I pointed at where it now sat in the garage area.

“If your final drive rods are in this shape then so is your sister’s. We need to rebuild the ass end of both cars before you take them out again. And most definitely before the race.” Chief Marks answered for both me and dad.

My dad looked down at me. “Take off Speedy. Tell your mother that I’ll be working late. Have her send us some brats and beers down from the hotel. Get enough for the whole team. I got a feeling that it is going to take all of us to fix this mess.”

“Sure, thing dad. I’ll take care of everything myself. Do you mind if I stop by the trailer before heading up? I need to change.” I really didn’t want to wear my leathers back to the hotel despite the fact that I had my own rental car.

“Sure, go ahead. And be careful.” With that order I knew my day was over.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 27
Sunday, Race day, Hockenheim, Germany

I smiled for the cameras as the press photographers took their pictures of me and Kelly. As usual they were more interested in our private lives than they were in my race standing. Which for this race sucked major hind tit. Thanks to having to replace the engine and transmission for both cars really upset the balance for both mine and Beth’s cars. It threw off our timing so bad it wasn’t even funny. We were barely able to Qualify in the low teens. Hell, I was happy with placing fourteenth, with Beth getting fifteenth. We were already figuring out how to get through the field and place somewhere in the top five.

The only bright spot over the last few days for me was Kelly’s surprise arrival on Thursday night. We spent most of the night practicing for our honeymoon. Friday was a total waste of time with the exception of the sponsorship and engagement party held by Mercedes-Benz. I was slightly surprised by the change in attitude of the grandmas. I almost fell over when they told us that we could delete over ninety percent of the assholes form the list that they wanted us invite to our wedding. Here they had been busting mine and Kelly’s chops about having these people at the wedding. Then to just perform an about-face with no warning was almost too much to handle.

I just grabbed Kelly by the hand and thanked the four women. Then headed for the bar. After grabbing a cold coke for both of us we headed off to mingle with the crowd. I was amazed by the number and type of employees that showed up for the party. Sure, there were a few of the big wigs, but there were also file clerks, factory workers, even a few car salesmen in the crowd. I did get into one minor argument with one of the guys from the design department. It seems that my Dodge Viper has raised a few hackles among the everyday employees of Mercedes-Benz. Anyway, this designer tried to tell me that my car was nothing more than a flash in the pan. Just like all American sports cars.

Needless to say, I was pissed off. I told the gentlemen that he needed to go back and double check his facts. Before one of my teammates got involved and corrected his attitude for him. I started to chuckle when his Department Head informed him that while Mercedes-Benz produced some of the finest Sports Cars in the world, they did not own the market on those types of cars. That some of the greatest Sports Car designs had come out of Detroit, Michigan. I also did a spit-take upon hearing this one man’s admission of facts.

I quickly thanked him then moved on to find someone else to talk with as he took his designer off to one side to have a very pointed conversation. Kelly and I spent the next few hours glad-handing the rest of the attendees. Before finally slipping out to spend the night in each other’s arms back in our room. Sadly, the next morning didn’t go nearly as excepted.

No matter what I did or tried out on the track. I just couldn’t place higher than fourteenth. For some stupid reason I just couldn’t squeeze out the performance that I need from the car. I just couldn’t find the needed balance for the race. I was fighting the car the whole time during Qualifying. I know that if I had another fifteen to maybe twenty laps, I could have found the right balance. I sighed looking out at the track.

“Trying to figure how to win the race honey?” Kelly asked from where she stood. “Babe, you’re just going to have to deal with what you got until you get out there and start driving for real.”

“I know that honey. I just hate having to do that during a race. I don’t like having to fight my way through traffic. That and making changes to the cars on the fly during a race. I make one wrong choice and everything we’ve tried up to that goes to shit.” I told her bluntly. Only to have her wrap her arms around me.

“Bobbie, this is what you’re good at. Beth can’t do what you can. Chief Hailee, and Chief Marks always listen to you when they setup her car. They use what you tell them about your car to fix her car. Sure, Beth is the more analytical driver, but you’re the one that can just feel out the situation on the fly. It takes Beth forever to figure out what you do in just half a lap. I shouldn’t have to point this out to you. You know it already. Now, go get into the headspace you need to win this fucking race.” With a gentle shove in the back Kelly pointed me to the team trailer.

I took the hint and headed for the trailer. I knew that I needed all the time I could get to clear my head for the race. My crew just smiled as I stepped inside the trailer’s forward compartment and closed the door. I really have gotten to love this specially built trailer. It has everything to rebuild one of the cars in the back three quarters and a small compartment up front. It maybe just 8 feet by 6 feet without any windows, but it was my little piece of heaven for when I need to get ready for a race.

I know that Mercedes-Benz offered to get us one of those massive RV buses for our use at the tracks. It just wasn’t mom or dad’s style. Not that I wasn’t too keen on the idea myself. Those damned things draw far too much attention for my tastes. Besides, if I had one of those, I would be too tempted to just hideout in there until I had to come out and drive. No dealing with the fans, no dealing with the press, no dealing with anything. Just coming out to drive for the purity of the sport.

I put in my earbuds and hit play on my iPod. Once the music started playing, I sat down on the bed and let myself fallaway. I let the music take me to that place I needed to be for the race. It took only one song before I was going over the track in my mind. I took each turn, every straightaway and broke them down. Each one, one at a time. I was also feeling my way around the track in my mind. By the end of the second song I knew what had to be done to the cars to bring them within racing trim.

For the next hour I went over every little change I wanted in the car before moving out onto the track. When I was done, I hit stop and hurried out to find Chief Hailee. Hoping I was in time. If not, then I would just have to make the changes on the fly. I found him and Chief Marks standing beside Beth’s car.

“Chief Hailee, is it too late to make final adjustments to the cars?” I asked them both in a rush.

“Sorry, kiddo, but the Marshals have already made their final inspections. Why? What do you know that we don’t?” Chief Hailee said with a knowing smirk.

“Let’s just say that on our first pitstop I need five degrees more down force on the front wing for starters. Drop the rear wing by five degrees. We’ll deal with the tire pressure as the track conditions change throughout the race.” I told them both with an answering smirk of my own.

Both men started to chuckle. Hailee turned to Marks. “Pay up buddy boy. I told you she would figure it out before the race started.”

I watched Chief Marks reached inside his jumpsuit pulling out a ten-dollar bill. Handing it over to Hailee, Marks was chuckling. “I should have known better than to take that bet. It was a sucker bet if I ever heard one. But it is still the best ten bucks I ever spent at a race.”

“Great, just fucking great. It’s bad enough that the bookies in Vegas, Atlantic City, and just about every legal casino in the world are giving odds on me and Beth. Now my own Pit Crew Chiefs are placing bets on me. I want in on the action damn it.” I bitched just before I started giggling. I knew that there’s no way that I could legally place a bet anywhere in the world.

“I think that we can take of that for you, kiddo. As it stands right now the odds-on favorites are Maloney and Salivatory. They got you and Beth at fifteen-to-one odds for winning the race. And ten-to-one odds for placing in the top five. With five-to-one for you girls placing in the top ten at the end of the race. Where do you want to place your money, Speedy?” Chief Hailee told me honestly with more than just a smirk. It was a full-blown shark’s grin with a mouthful of teeth.

“I never said this but place a c-note on us to place in the top five. With another c-note for on each of us to win.” I told them both as I turned to walk away. I tossed over my shoulder. “If anyone asks me. I don’t know nothing. Don’t worry guys I’ll be sure to cover the bets.”

The two men just chuckled as they pulled out their iPhones. I knew that by the time the race started the bets would be placed and I would basically be none the wiser; at least as far as anyone who was a legal authority was concerned. I chuckled to myself as I knew that the Crew Chiefs for our team always looked out for the members of the teams. I always knew that they took care of the teams in the pits. Now I knew they took care of their private lives as well. If they were placing bets for them on the side, who was I to say anything. I don’t care if the guys and gals make a little money on the sly by betting on me and Beth. After all everyone knows that money talks and bullshit walks.

Then there is the fact that most of my pit crews make enough money to cover the bets. I’ll only get involved if it becomes a problem. I don’t need or want a gambling addict on my team. They all knew my stance on that kind of shit. I had already outlined in black and white what I would and wouldn’t put up with. And drugs, alcohol, and any other type of addiction would get them bounced in a hurry. That was the only thing I won’t, no couldn’t put up with. I’ve already seen what that sort of thing would do a racing team’s creditability in the eyes of the fans.

As I neared my own car, I saw that my crew was starting to get antsy. You could practically feel the tension surrounding the pit area. Danny gave me a hard look. “You ready to tear this track a new asshole, Bobbie?”

“Yeah I’m more than ready guys.” I said giving them a smile.

“That maybe the case girlfriend, but what we want to know is. How the fuck you going to get through that field out there?” Terry asked me with more than a little sarcasm.

“Look, guys don’t worry. I got a plan for taking the field and the race. I just need you all to be on the bounce, the second I stop. Kat, Lisa, Sue, Ter, on the first stop you girls are going to have to be really on the bounce. Because you four will be making the first and most important adjustments to the car.” I figured that I might as well give them all the down and dirty.

“What’s up Bobbie? You’ve never given us this kind of prerace dirt before. Just what do you have us doing?” Terry asked for the four girls that I named off.

“All four stabilizers are going to need slight adjustments. Don’t worry about the tire pressure until the next stop guys. No matter what happens we got to get those adjustments done on the first go. After that we can work on the car throughout the race with each pit stop. I got a feeling as the day gets hotter that track is going to get slick as cat shit on a tile floor.” I figured that they all needed to know what I had already figured out.

I saw the smiles slowly come to half of their faces. Then I watched as bills were exchanged between one half of the team and the other. I couldn’t believe it. My pit crew was placing bets among themselves on me now. The sad part was, it was the guys paying off the girls. When it finally hit me, I started to giggle. I couldn’t help myself. The guys actually let the girls sucker them into betting against me. Even after all the rat-races, and Formula One races that I’ve run. They still fell for the girls’ ploy.

“Alright you clowns, are you done goofing around at my expense, yet? Maybe you would like to place a few inside wagers on what music I’ll be using for the race? No wait, I know. Who wants to take bets on the wear pattern on the tires at the end of each pitstop?” I gripped at them all.

“Chill out Bobbie. Let the guys have their fun.” Beth said with more than a little mirth in her voice from behind me.

“Okay sis, but if I find out that these chuckle-nuts start placing bets on what panties I’m wearing. Then I reserve the right to pound them into the pavement.” I bitched as the girls of the pit crew just laughed.

We were interrupted by the announcement that all drivers look forward to on race day. “All drivers report to your cars.”

“Time to punch in. Remember what I told you guys.” I took a deep breath and headed for my car. “Today is going to be a long day boys and girls. Stay on the bounce.”

“You got it BOSS.” Danny Hailee said with a smirk.

“Oh shut-up Danny. Kelly give me a hand getting into the cockpit.” I asked of my fiancée. As I dropped into the seat of the car Kelly handed me my balaclava. I put in my earbuds before then connect them to my radio and iPod. As I pull my balaclava over my head and ponytail Kelly helps me tuck it in under my racing leathers. Next, she hands me my helmet then begins to strap me in. With her tightening my safety harness I pull on my gloves. Kelly leans over me and kisses my helmet where my mouth would be if she could get to it. With a smile she stood up straight.

“For luck love. I have a feeling that you’re going to need it out there today.” With a pat on top of my helmet she turned on walked over to her position behind the safety wall. I gave Chief Hailee the thumbs up signaling that I was ready for engine start. All I had to do now was wait for the six most important words in racing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines.” I more feel than hear the engine kickover and come to life. I let the smile come to my face as the chained and bound speed demon howls its fury at being enslaved to my will. I know that 67 laps and just short of 305 km to ring the shit out of the engine and transmission. I just hope like hell that they don’t carp out on me.

One at a time the cars pullout and fall into their starting line up behind the pace car. As much as I want to just open her up, I know that I have to wait. It takes the field two full laps before signaled to pull in for the start. As I pull to a stop, I take one last look around me before locking my eyes on the lights. This is where I will need to make up the most positions today.

I had to get the jump on the guys in front me now. Here at the start of the race if my plan was going to work. The problem was going to be working my way through the field. Both Beth and I had to get out of the teens and into the single digits before we can really start making the needed adjustments to the cars. I slowly rev the engine as I wait for the green to drop.

When it comes, I know that I got the needed jump on the others. I led Beth between the 13th and 12th positions as if they weren’t even there. As we speed down the front straightaway towards the first turn the field is already starting to spread out. As we enter turn 1, or better known as Nordkurve, I can already tell that I will need more down force on the frontend that I originally predicted. That or a steeper raise to the rear spoiler.

I keyed my mike. “Chief Hailee change in plans for the first stop. I want to change the rear spoiler to a steeper down angle.”

“How steep do you want it to go, Speedy? Talk to us here kid.” Chief Hailee asked with no hesitation.

“At least seven degrees for now, Chief. On both sides.” I told him quickly. Then added a second thought. “While you’re at it drop the tire pressure for the front end by four pounds on each side.”

“That going to be enough Speedy?” Chief Marks asked out of nowhere.

“I don’t know Chief. But it sure even out the race trim to give us a better performance. I’ll let you know more over the next few laps. I should have a better idea by the time I’m ready for my first pit stop. Say around lap fifteen or twenty.” I knew that I would be pushing things, but I had to go for as long as possible.

“Negative Bobbie. You need to pit sooner than that.” Kathy came up on the radio fast correcting me. “I’ve already spotted four points on the track that are going to eat the shit out of your tires. You’ll need to pit no later than lap twelve. Turns two, six, seven, eight, and twelve are all greener than a slapping in springtime. I won’t bother you by telling you how nasty the Parabolika has gotten since yesterday.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about until I actually hit that long curving straightaway came into view. I swear it was like I was driving on marbles the whole way down. It just didn’t make sense to me. Yesterday this part of the track was like driving in a dream. Today it was a fucking nightmare. It was taking all of my concentration to manage the curving straightaway and keep the car at close to racing speed.

I hit the Hairpin and down shifted into second gear while braking as hard as I could. I knew that I was going in harder and faster than I should. Yet I had to take the turn this way. I needed to pass two more drivers before we got to turn 12 and the grandstands. If I don’t then all my plans will be for nothing. I have to be in the top ten positions just to give my crew the time they need. This first stop will not be our normal 1.25 second stop. It will be closer to somewhere around 3 to 4 seconds if not longer.

I slide past the 11th place car barely. The son-of-bitch was doing his best to block me and Beth. He just made one mistake. He took his eyes off of me in his rearview mirror. He never spotted the slide move I was putting on him from the outside until it was too late. Beth gave me just the opening that I needed to slip by and take 10th while she dropped into position to challenge for 9th. I smiled as we rounded turn 7 as she pulled the same move but on the inside this time to take the position. Leaving me to rip into the poor unsuspecting driver out of nowhere.

I was able to pull a full slip-slide move on the guy on the short straightaway between turn turns 7 and 8. I think that the way we are driving has been twisting more than one driver’s tit on the circuit. Most of them still haven’t figured out how we can pull the moves that we do. I think only McNairy, Lacasse, and Rodríguez have been able to get a real handle on how we race.

And for this race they three gentlemen should not be a factor. Thank the good Lord. All three place well behind me and Beth in Qualifying. And with the passes that we just completed they’re even further behind. It’ll take a monumental screwup for them to even threaten either of us. One that I’m hoping to avoid.

For the next seven laps Beth and I hold our positions. There was no need to push things as we were in place for our plans to work. Just as I cross the start finish line for the start of lap 9 the yellow flag comes out for a full track yellow. I start slowing down as I round turn 1 when Kathy comes up on the radio.

“Back it down hard Bobbie. There’s a two-car spinout right in the middle of the Parabolika. It isn’t too bad, but the tow trucks are going to need time to clean up the mess. Both drivers are out safe and sounds. It was just one of those raceway screwups.”

“Copy that Kathy. How long do you think it will take them to clean up the track?” I needed to know for my pit stop plans.

“You got at least two maybe three laps before going back to green. I suggest you pit on the next go around. That’ll give the teams enough time to make the needed adjustments and still put you in position to come out in the top five before we go green.”

“How do you figure that, Kathy?”

“More than a few of the other teams are already talking about pitting on the third yellow flag lap. They’ll be in the pit while you pass them on the track. Even if you pit before they do. They’ll have to come in after you sooner or later.”

I chuckled at Kathy’s assessment of the situation. She has come a long way from her first time acting as my spotter. Her mother was just as good if not better. I swear those two truly have become our secret weapons. I know for a fact that they haven’t lost one morning or evening on the tracks. They are out here running these tracks as if they’re training for a marathon. They get out here and run at least three laps every morning and evening. They know these tracks better than anyone else on our teams.

Coach Hall came up on the radio just after Kathy finished her last broadcast. “Bobbie, Beth, come in on this lap for your pit stops. Not later, now. It’ll throw off the count for the other drivers and give you an extra four seconds in the pits.”

I didn’t even argue with the Coach. For some reason she has been able to spot those little timing glitches that either makeup for or break a team’s timing. If I can give my pit crew those much-needed seconds, then I’ll listen to Coach Hall every time.

We around turn 4 onto the Parabolika. I get my first look at the wreck and can tell that this one could have been avoided. As I pass them, I take in the paint scheme for the first car. I sigh as I know exactly what and why this happened. Castro was pushing his car to do more than what he could handle. The man was trying to pull some type of power-drift on the other car using the side-draft to pass. The problem with using the side-draft between two cars is this. If you get too close, they’ll create a vacuum between them. That vacuum is strong enough to pull the two cars into each other.

“What an idiot. When is he going to quit trying to race like he is the only one on the track.” As I pass the second car, I noticed that the car belonged to McNairy. “Oh shit. I hope the Marshals keep McNairy away from Castro until after the race.”

As we clear the wreck site and round the hairpin I know that the Marshals will be able to keep the two men apart. For some reason I got the feeling that McNairy would happily beat the crap out of Castro for what happened today. Not that I blamed the man. Ramon Castro has been spoiling for a life-altering ass-beating from day one of the season. Sadly, I know where it all started. With me. Why I just don’t know or care anymore.

The man just won’t give up his grudge with me. I’ve gone out of my way to race the man fairly. Yet, he still blames me for something that I have yet to figure out. It doesn’t matter though. I just hope like hell that when he finally self-destructs. He doesn’t do it on the track taking someone else with him. Him and that teammate of his, Arthor Kent.

The Safety Car leads us around the final turn onto the front straightaway. I know that now is the best chance we’ll get for making those changes. The only problem is the rest of the field is filling in right along with Beth and me. I want to pound on the steering wheel out of frustration. Someone must have spotted what we were doing. Even as I pulled into my pit stall, I knew that more than half the field would pass me by before the changes would be completed. There was nothing I could do about it either.

The guys had me in the air the second I stopped. I watched as every member of my pit crew swarmed over the car. Each person handling their own assigned tasks. I knew that I wouldn’t have to worry about them doing their jobs. I just had to do mine now. I watch as first one then two and finally just stop counting the cars roar past me and Beth as we sit in our pit stalls. Finally, at three seconds the guys drop my car.

I drop the hammer and haul ass out of my pit and pit road with Beth hot on my tail. We pull out and find ourselves at the end of the pack. Beth comes up on the radio madder than a wet cat.

“Alright, Speedy. You got us into this fucking mess. How do you plan on getting us out of it?”

“Um… I’m working on it, sis. Give me a few seconds to get back to you.” I really was working on it. I just didn’t know how I was going to get us from the back of the pack to the front again. I mean we got sixteen cars between us and the top positions.

Then it hit me. WE were at the rear of the field. WE were the threat. Every driver in the field will be looking over their shoulder for us. I started to giggle as I keyed my radio for the team broadcast. “Okay people, this is how we’re going to crack this nut. Beth we’re going to tag team these guys.”

“Tag team them. What the hell are you talking about Bobbie?” Beth asked me in total confusion.

“We spilt them one at a time, Beth. You take the inside and I’ll take the outside. Then we switch things for the next car. We got fifty-seven laps to work our magic on the other drivers. That’s one driver every three laps. I figure we can take down at least two or three before they catch onto what we’re doing. After that it’ll be a non-stop fight to the end.” I heard Beth then Kathy and Coach Hall start to giggle as I laid out my plan for the rest of the race. It was something we had done in the past that would work once again. Only this time we would be going all the way.

“Sounds good to me Bobbie. I’m sure that we can pull it off. I only see one problem child. Kent. He’s sitting in fifteenth right now. There’s no way he’ll let us pass him without putting up a fight of some kind. It’s just not in him.” Beth pointed out for me and just about everyone else listening in on our radio chatter. We have been aware of the radio snoops for a while now.

Before I could comment on Beth’s observation about Kent the Safety Car dropped off the track. “Damn! Just stay in tight until it’s time to dance Beth. Hold your radio open and let the music take us to the finish line.”

“Spin the tunes sis. You’re our DJ for the rest of the race. I’ll dance to whatever tune you play.”

I slide my thumb over the new control buttons for my iPod that Chief Hailee had installed on the steering wheel. He had gotten with the nice people at Hamalton® to make me a truly customized steering wheel. One that I would allow me to control my iPod while driving at more than 190mph. all while not taking my hands off the wheel. Yesterday was the first time I got to use it. And I feel in love with it right away.

We came to the start/finish line and the lights turned green. Beth and I both grabbed a lower gear while I hit the shuffle button for my iPod to find the mix, I had setup just for today’s race. We rounded NordKurve to the opening notes of Scorpion’s ‘Winds of Change.’ I got a giggle from Beth over the radio. “Now that is the way to bring the race to life Bobbie.”

I just let a knowing smile come to my face as we start our dance. We take the first of our unknowing partners between turns 2 and 3. The guy never saw us coming. Beth took him on the outside while I went to the inside. After that it was just a few short seconds before we were drafting our next playmate.

That was the secret to our game plan. Most of these drivers aren’t used to someone drafting off their ass-ends the way they do in NASCAR. We maybe not be able to get right up onto their bumpers like they do with Stockcars. But we can use the draft their spoilers produce to get in nice and tight. The aerodynamic flow split between two cars is considerable. Two cars can go faster than one, but when you have three or more cars splitting the resistance. You get something that is magnitudes higher for performance. The downside to that is once one car drops out of the draft the lead car is suddenly left out there to hang while the follow-on cars have a sudden burst of speed.

We stay in tight on our new playmate halfway through the Parabolika. We suck him in tight to the next car in line. “Beth take the inside, I got the outside.”

We split and pass both drivers before they even know what it hit them. Three cars down in one lap. Not bad, not bad at all. It takes us the rest of the lap to get within striking distance of our next playmate. I’ve been hot on Beth’s tail the whole time. We round NordKurve once again only this time we overtake our newest playmate. We both go to the outside of the turn catching the guy totally off-guard. It wasn’t until we were on the Parabolika that I realized we had just passed Kent.

“Beth, that was Kent wasn’t it?” I asked her.

“It sure was, Bobbie. I don’t know why but he just let us roll-bye totally unopposed. I wonder what that is all about?” She was just as confused over this turn of events as I was.

“I don’t know or care Beth. So long as he isn’t trying to sabotage our asses I don’t care. Personally, I think he has gotten tired of listening to that fuck-nut Castro.” I told her honestly. “We’ll figure it out after the race.”

By this time, we had reached the hairpin and were on the backside of the circuit headed back for the grandstands. We powered our way around the rest of the track slowly gaining on our next playmate. With Beth in the led the whole way. I don’t know what is going on, but she has just enough of an edge to stay ahead of me now. Ever since our first pitstop it has been that way.

We rounded turn 16 and headed down the front straightaway. It was as if we were on fire. Nothing could stop us. We were bearing down on our next playmate when he did the unexpected. He pulled to the outside edge and stayed there. The thought of WTF went running like a jackrabbit through my head. Not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth both Beth and I rocketed passed the man on the inside. We swung wide enough to that when we reach turn 2 and 3 we had to brake and down shift hard to make the turns without drifting.

As much as I want to just drift for the whole race, I know that I can’t. I got to try and save the tyres as much as possible. I notice one thing about this track that was vastly different than the other tracks. It eats up tires like a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. The way the track has already rubbered up is fucking ridiculous stupid in some spots while slick as ice in other spots. It’s as if the track was fighting back. The more I thought about it the more I realized that it was like racing back home on the Darlington Raceway.

“Beth whatever you do, don’t fucking drift.” I warned my sister quickly. “The track is eating up our tyres.”

“Gotcha sis. Do you think that’s why everybody is letting us just pass them?” She asked me quickly.

“Dollars to donuts Beth. I know that’s what they’re doing. And hoping that we run through our tyres before the end of the race.” I figured that I needed to tell her what I had figured out.

“Then don’t play their game girls. We’ve got the old tyres here in the pit and Chief Hailee and Marks are going over them as we speak. We figure something out before your next pitstop.” Mom told us over the radio. I could tell that she was already figuring out a work around for the problem by the sound of her voice.

For the next 15 laps we played nice with the other drivers. Only passing them when they would pull over or made a mistake. Other than that, we stayed with our plan to save our tyres. We had been able to work our way up back up to where we started the race though. Well a little better than where we started. We were in ninth and tenth place respectively. Coach Hall started counting us down for a pitstop on lap 29 as we entered NordKurve.

We both listened to our spotters and hit our marks almost perfectly. I only missed one the whole way around. We hit the pits just ahead of our heaviest competition. I spot my pit stall and pull in slamming on the brakes. I feel my car bounce into the air. Then a second later slam down as the front jackman moves out of the way. I’m off. I race Beth out of pit road and onto the track.

I beat her onto the track by just a little over a second. Less than one car length. We come out right where we went in. We couldn’t have planned it any better. We round NordKurve and took off like a pair of banshees. It didn’t take me long to realize that mom, dad, and the Chiefs had figured out the answer to our tyre problem. Gone was the sluggish feeling I was having during the turns. Now, it felt like I was riding high on cloud nine.

Whatever they did to the tyres it fixed our handling problems. Mine especially. I was now taking the turns at almost top speed. Beth wasn’t far behind hind me either. We went from having to fight our way through the field to just blasting by them as if they were tied down to a ships anchor. Not just any ship but an Enterprise aircraft carrier. We had gone from trying to just place to trying to win the whole damned thing. Over the next 12 laps we had worked our way through the field.

We had just about completely rounded turn 8 and passed under the Mercedes Grandstands when the yellow came out again. This time it went from yellow to a full red flag stop. Beth and I had worked our way into fourth and fifth place by this time. I watched as the Safety Car pulled out in front of us and lead us rest of the way around the track to pit road. We were led to a stop where we were ordered to shut down our engines.

“Kathy how bad is the accident?” I asked her as she had not yet reported in on the wreck.

“It’s a bad one Bobbie. The cars are a total write off. The good news is all the drivers are safe. They’re being seen to by the medics as we speak. The only other thing I can tell you right now is that when we go back to racing is anyone’s guess.”

“Damn what did they do flip over?” Beth asked in shock.

“Two of the four did exactly that, Beth. It all went down in the hairpin. The first car blew out a tire and spun one-eighty before being hit head on by the three cars following him. Two went airborne and came down nose first. The last one just slammed head on into the first car forcing the two to spin out of control.” I cringed as Kathy gave us the description of what happened. I could see all clear as a bell in my mind.

It had been a wreck similar to the one she just described not too long ago. I had more than a little sympathy for those four drivers. I know that we all dance with the Bounty Hunter out here. It’s part of the bargain we strike to participate in this sport. One wrong move could put us in the wrong spot for a massive wreck. The only good thing about Formula One racing is there aren’t as many drivers or cars on the track at the same time. Formula One has only twenty drivers out here at a time. Unlike NASCAR where there are forty drivers pushing forty 3,300lbs cars at close to 200mhp. When those cars wreck it is truly miraculous that any driver just walks away unharmed.

I smile as Billy runs out with the starter and connects to the engine. I wait patiently for the signal to come for us to restart. Then something happens that I wasn’t expecting. The Marshals are walking the line signaling for all drivers to exit their cars. I pulled off my helmet and gloves as I climbed out of my cockpit. As I climb out the Marshal informs me that the race is over.

“What happened? I thought that all the drivers from the wreck got out safe. Why are you stopping the race?” I asked him.

“The guardrail along the backside of the hairpin needs to be replaced for safety reason. That has to be done before anymore racing can happen on this track Fräulien McGuire.” The man started to walk away but stopped. “Congratulations on taking fourth place. That was quite some run you and your sister had going.”

“Sir before you go can you tell me just how much of the guardrail will need to be replace? I’m just wondering.” I really curious.

“I believe that the track maintenance crew were saying something like fifty to fifty-five percent.” The Marshal told me honestly. “Sadly, it will take some time to make the repairs. More time than we have today for the repairs.”

“Thankyou sir. Can you answer one more question for me?” The man nodded his head yes. “How did someone hit the guardrail hard enough to cause that much damage?”

“Ah! I can see how that would be a valid concern. This was a case of physics in action. The two cars that collided head on with the first out of control car were sent airborne just before the hairpin turn. When they landed, each car tumbled into a deferent section of the guardrail. When the last car hit it took the first car into the nearest part of the guardrail destroying that section.” The Marshal explained for me. “Well Fräulien I must be going. More drivers to inform of the situation.”

“Danke, Herr. Einen schönen Tag noch.” I told him in German.

As we were talking Beth and the rest of the team gathered around my car to find out what was going. When the Marshal walked away, I turned to Beth. “Looks like we got a short-day sis. I hate ending a race like this but any race that you finish is a good one. I just wish we had, had ten more laps.”

“Why’s that Bobbie? Chief Hailee asked me. “You got fourth place not bad when you think about it.”

“Yeah I hear you Chief Hailee. But that that fifteen-hundred would have been nice to have for the repairs on the farm.” At his confused look I just chuckled. “What you didn’t think I saw you two placing the bets for me as I walked off?”

“Bobbie, we thought you were joking.” Chief Marks said in all seriousness. “If we knew that you were serious, we would have gone for the big money. And place our bets on you girls finishing first in a tie. The odds for that happening is somewhere around seventy-five-to-one in most casinos. A hundred-to-one in Vegas for that happening. The only place they’re higher is in Monticarlo. Those guys have the odds of you girls finishing in a tie at over a one-fifty-to-one with a twenty-minute inquiry from the marshals.”

Holy shit! They had to be joking but I could tell from their faces they weren’t. “How bad has the gambling gotten surrounding our sport here Chiefs?”

“Let’s just say that the marshals watch the teams closer than ever anymore. I won’t even go into what is happening with NASCAR. More than one team has had their sponsors threaten them with pulling out if there is even a hint of race fixing.” Chief Hailee told us all. Then he got a hard look on his face. “That’s why me and Chief Marks handle all the bets that are placed by this team through an outside contractor who gets a cut of the winnings. And we always bet on you girls to win.”

“Oh wow! I see your point. If you’re only betting on us to win then there is no way for someone to say that you fixed our cars to lose. Or that we threw the race.” Beth breathed out.

“Sis this is one time that we need to just turn a blind eye and walk away playing the part of the three monkeys.” I made the signs of the ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ monkeys with my hands. Looking around at the other teams I sighed. “Come on guys. We don’t have time to stand around bullshitting. We got to get the cars put to bed and headed for the next race. By the way where are we for the next race?”

Kelly started giggling. “It’s Tuesday, so it must be Rome!”
-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 28
Budapest Hungary, Saturday

As much as I wanted our next race to be at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza in Italy that wasn’t going to happen. Nope, we were off to Budapest, Hungary instead. Not that Kelly really minded. The ancient city was on her bucket list of places to see. I chuckled as she practically giggled with excitement at the thought of seeing Budapest before she was even twenty. Hell, she wasn’t the only one that wanted to see Budapest. To me it was more than I ever even dreamed of seeing. For that matter, every country we’ve been to this season is more than I even dared to dream of seeing.

Then there have been the tracks themselves. Some of the oldest and most modern high-tech racetracks in the world. I have had the privilege of racing on them. Racetracks that demand nothing but respect. I know that NASCAR has some of the fastest Super Speedways if not the fastest. I would love to try my chances at places like Dega, the Tricky triangle, the Brickyard, and Daytona simply because of the speeds that can be reached at those tracks. Because as fast as Formula One tracks are reaching 200 mph on the straightaways for most of these tracks is impossible. Sure, we reach speeds of 200 kilometers per hour, but never miles per hour.

No, the challenge of these tracks is the constant changes in design. The sudden turns followed by half-mile to three quarter-mile long straightaways that end in hairpin turns. The changes in road level heights inclines and declines with a slanting turn that comes out of nowhere. No two Formula One tracks are the same. They all may share similarities, but none are exactly the same. I have to take each track one at a time. The only thing that Beth and I have to our advantage is our time as rat-racers.

We may not be the moonshine runners of old, but we have many of the same skills. Only difference between us is the way we approach the tracks. Just like those old moonshine runners. We may have similar setups for our cars but they each have individual customizations. Chiefs Hailee and Marks takes what they learn from me about my car and tweaks it for Beth’s car. Just like the moonshine runners did in the early days of NASCAR and Prohibition. Our races on the F-1 tracks were more like the rat or street races back home.

The one thing that I have come to really appreciate during my time as a F-1 driver is the many countries that I’ve gotten to see. Kelly pointed this out to me the other night. She sat down with her laptop and brought up a list of all the countries we’ve been to so far. The list was amazing. Even at a little over halfway through the season I’ve already been to twelve countries and three continents. Then she did something really crazy. Kelly listed everything we’ve seen and done in those countries.

We’ve done things like dive the Great Barrier Reef of Australia. Visited Buckingham Place and seen the Changing of the Guards. Visited a real working French vineyard in Le Castellet France. In Baku Azerbaijan we went to the Heydar Aliyev Center and saw the Mini Azerbaijan exhibition. The list went on and on. The only place that didn’t have an activity next to it was Hockenheim Germany. I know why. Kelly wasn’t there with me. All I wanted to do was work on the car. I hadn’t taken the time to see the country. Something that I’ve done at every place we’ve been and that is my fault.

On Wednesday I took Kelly and the other members of the pit crew to see the Hungarian National Museum. Talk about making our home country’s history look like a drop in the buck of time. The Hungarian National Museum has seven permanent displays. The general history of Hungary is covered in two sections. The archaeology from prehistory to the Avar period ending in 804 AD on the ground floor or ‘On the East-West frontier’.

The history from 804 to modern times on the first floor. This display covers topics such as the age of the Arpads, the long Turkish occupation, Transylvania and royal Hungary. More modern and Contemporary history covered begins with the Rákóczi War of Independence, showing different sections of his military attire and various coins. The history section then ends with the rise and fall of the communist system in Hungary.

In another hall on the second floor one can find out about the Scholar Hungarians who made the twentieth century. A room on the first floor displays the medieval Hungarian Coronation Mantle. The ground floor's permanent exhibit is focused on Medieval and Early Modern stone inscriptions and carvings. This exhibit looks at various stone relics and the carvings that have been made into them. The majority of the items in this collection were discovered during the 1960s and 1970s, since they looked for more relics post World War II. The final permanent exhibit is placed in the basement of the museum. This is the Roman Lapidary exhibit, which is a collection of ancient Roman stone inscriptions and carvings.

We must have spent the enter day there. And must likely could have spent the whole of Thursday there and still not have seen everything. I may not be a big fan of history but Kelly sure is. That night back in our hotel room I asked her what she wanted to do after we got married. I wasn’t surprised when she told me that she wanted to become a teacher. Something that I had pretty much always known. If it wasn’t for the practice runs, I know she would have dragged me back there. As much as I hate to say this, I really need those practice runs this time.

The Hungaroring racetrack is actually in Mogyoród, Hungary where the Formula One Hungarian Grand Prix is held. In 1986, it became the location of the first Formula One Grand Prix behind the Iron Curtain. Bernie Ecclestone wanted a race in the USSR, but a Hungarian friend recommended Budapest. They wanted a street circuit similar to the Circuit de Monaco to be built in the Népliget one of Budapest's largest park. But the government decided to build a new circuit just outside of the city near a major highway. Construction works started on 1 October 1985.

It was built in eight months, less time than any other Formula One circuit. For that matter any NASCAR track ever. The first race was held on 24 March 1986, in memory of János Drapál, the first Hungarian who won motorcycle Grand Prix races. The circuit has FIA Grade 1 license. According to a survey put together by the national tourism office of Hungary, Mogyoród ranks third among Hungarian destinations visited by tourists, behind the Danube Bend area and Lake Balaton, but ahead of Budapest.

The bitch about this Grand Prix it’s held in the middle of summer, which is usually extremely hot and dry in this region. Its first wet Grand Prix race was in 2006. Because of this the circuit is normally dusty due to underuse throughout the rest of the year and its sandy soil. The really nice thing about this circuit is that it sits in a valley. About 80 percent of it can be seen from any point.

Normally, an underused circuit becomes faster over the weekend as the track surface gathers more rubber residue; however, with the Hungaroring this generally does not happen, because the track can get dusty so quickly. The track frequently becomes faster during a qualifying session, which leads competitors to try for their best lap as late as possible. The twisty and bumpy nature of the circuit makes passing difficult in the best of conditions. Some smartass gave the circuit the nickname of “Monaco without the buildings” for this simple reason. In many ways this circuit is almost tailor made for the style of racing that Beth and I grew up with.

Then again most of the F-1 tracks that we race are this way. We know that it’s not the same as street or rat racing. Yet it is close enough to give us just that little bit of an edge. The edge that had kept us in the winning or top five positions at almost every circuit. The test runs on Thursday and Friday proved that to us both. Monaco had been one of our worst performances of the whole season. With more than just a little luck and a shit load of hard work we’re both hoping to put in a better performance here. Of all the circuits this one track is the closest to Monaco.

Hopefully today’s Qualifying runs will give us just the needed edge for the race. I was brought out of my thoughts by Kelly’s arm wrapping around me from behind and the kiss she placed on my ear. “You about ready love?”

“About as ready as I can get Kelly. Today is going to be a make or break moment for this race. The higher we can place in the field the better.” I sighed before turning to get dressed in my racing leathers. I had held off until now because of the heat. “I just wish that it wasn’t so damned hot. I thought that Europe was supposed to be cool.”

“Bobbie the average summertime temp for Hungary is right around seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit. And right now, we’re way over the average for this time of the year. Just be thankful that when we hit Austin it’ll be in November. Can you imagine how hot it would be if that race was held in June or July? We would sweat off more than three pounds a day in our leathers.” I couldn’t help it. I chuckled at Kelly’s description of the heat and her comparison to the America’s Circuit in Austin, Texas.

“I just wish that I didn’t need a set of long-johns under my leathers. It gets hot enough in all this leather without the additional layer. If it wasn’t for the threat of fire in an accident, I won’t wear them.” I bitched.

Kelly sighed as she steps in front of me and zipped up my racing leathers. “Shut the fuck up and deal Roberta. I would rather you sweat off a few extra pounds than burn to death.”

I just sighed and kissed her. After all she was right. I stood a far better chance of surviving a crash involving fire with the NOMEX than without it. “Okay love, I’ll quiet my bitching.”

“Good. Now let’s get this show on the road. Take your time and feel out the track for the first few laps. Then go for broke. I figure that between you and Beth the two of you should be able to lay down some decent times.” Kelly reached over and picked up my shoes. “Sit down and I’ll finish helping you suit up. And love when we get out there start drinking water. Forget the sports drinks and Gatorade. Those damned things will only dry you out faster. They got way too much caffeine and sugar in them.”

“Okay already. I know what not to do Kelly. Now what can you tell me about the track? I know that you’ve been studying the damned thing.” I smirked.

“There are only four true straightaways. The rest are too fucking short to gain much speed. The fourteen turns are spread out over the two-point-seven miles of track. None of them are close enough to be considered a real chicane except for turns six through nine. Turns one, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen are sharp enough to be considered straight up hairpin turns. That is about as much as I can give you. You’ll have to talk with Kathy to get any more information about the track. She and her mom have been running that track twice a day. The rest of us have only been running once a day. I will tell you this though. That track is dry, dusty, and green as hell.” I was slightly surprised at Kelly’s appraisal of the track. She leaned in close and gave me a hug. “Hold back on the throttle until after the first round of Qualifying baby. Let the track rubber up some before going all-out. That track is just like Copperhead Rd back home.”

“Shit. No wonder it felt so familiar to me. With the exception of looping back on itself it is exactly like Copperhead Rd. There is the same number of turns and straightaways. It also changes, from dirt to pavement to gravel and back to pavement. The only deference with this track is it doesn’t change surfaces. Its paved all the way around. But the heavy dust will make the track slick.” I quickly summed up that this would be one nasty track.

“You missed something love. Unlike Copperhead Rd back home this track is basically a self-cleaning piece of roadway. And don’t count on the turns banking for an edge in passing. Get down tight on the inside edge and hold the line. Don’t try the outer edges. The turns are just too narrow.” I was more than a little surprised by the way Kelly was talking about the track.

“When did you learn to read a racetrack like this?” I had to know exactly when and how she learned to read a track this way. For that matter who taught her. Because I sure as hell didn’t.

“Kathy and her mom aren’t the only ones who have picked up a few extra skills on this team.” Kelly giggles. “We all have been learning something new.”

“Okay what does that mean?”

“Well, your mom has been teaching the girls on the team how to read a track. Your dad has had the guys over in the garage learning about more than just the ‘heavy lifting’ of the sport. He’s been teaching them about the engines, transmissions, and just about every part of the cars. Then there’s what Coach Hall has all of us doing when we’re stuck in those stupid sponsor parties. She has the whole pit crew watching recordings of each track for each race over the last ten years. Coach ALWAYS has either Chief Hailee or Marks there to give a better technical view of the race for the team.” Kelly gave me a sly smile and a wink as she stood up. “You really need to pay more attention to what is going on around you Bobbie. There is so much more going on than just what is out there on the track.”

“I guess you’re right babe. It’s just that if I don’t block out all the craziness that is going on around me, I can’t focus on driving the car. I know that it takes a team to get me across the finish line. But when I’m out there on those tracks.” Place my hands against my chest. “It’s just me. I know that it sounds egotistical of me. I’m basically all alone out there except for Kathy or her mom. If I don’t tune out the world, I can get killed out there. No one’s luck lasts forever. I have to rely on my skills to keep me alive out there on the track.”

“Babe, we all know that. Everybody on the team knows what you do out there is just this side of crazy. You’re the soul of this team. We may be the muscle, blood, and bones of this team and Beth is the heart. But you’re the soul.” She took a deep breath. “I know who I’m marrying in a few weeks. A professional racecar driver. One of a select few athletes that place their very lives on the line for their sport.”

“Babe, if there was any other sport that I was good at I would gladly step away from racing. But this is all I know.” I clenched my fists. “It’s in my blood. It’s part of me in ways that I can’t explain.”

Kelly placed her finger over my lips. “Hush. I know who you are and what this sport means to you. The one thing, no the only thing you have ever been truly gifted at is driving. Your mom and dad have told you this more than once. You can take any car you’re given and perform miracles. It doesn’t matter what car or track. None of us can do what you can. Not even your sister can do what you do.”

“Bullshit, babe. I’m just highly skilled and extremely lucky. Nothing more than that. I don’t do ‘miracles’. I know where the edge of insanity is and always pull back just from the edge.” I know that I wasn’t wrong.

“No Bobbie. You’re wrong.” She chuckled. “You really are that good. Just ask any member of the team. No better yet when you get out there ask any of the other drivers or Crew Chiefs. Most of them will tell you the same thing.”

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Kelly sighed. “Bobbie, once again you haven’t been paying attention to what is going on around you. Almost every Crew Chief and driver for the other teams have been asked the same question over and over. They all want to know where the hell you and Beth learned to drive.”

“Just how many of the other drivers have been in our pit area asking questions along those lines Kelly?” I really needed to know the answer to this question. It could be the answer to why the other drivers were starting to figure out mine and Beth’s driving styles.

“Almost all of them. Don’t worry about the answers they’ve been getting. You should hear some of them baby.” Kelly giggled. “Most of the time we just let Tony answer their questions. We all get a real kick out of it when he gets going. Right now, he has more than three quarters of the other drivers believing you two were trained at an ultra-top-secret driving school in the US. That the US has whole generations of drivers being trained in each automotive sport. All so, that the US can become the Automotive Racing Superpower for the world.” This last part was said with her arms raised above her head. Kelly really started to giggle even harder for some reason. “The really good part of the whole story is you and Beth were the test subjects for the whole program.”

I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh my ass of at the stupidity of the idea. I mean who would even buy into such a crazy idea to begin with. Then again, there have been more American drivers showing up in the other racing fields. And with the way that they have been performing it could be possible. When you take in all the rumors of such training centers for other sports of the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s it’s no surprise that more than a few of the other drivers believe Tony’s bullshit story.

Then of course there was all those top-secret sports training centers leftover from the former Soviet Block Nations. Which just about every driver knew about. So, the idea of the United States or any Nation for that matter, putting together such a site is not that too farfetched. I don’t know where Tony comes up with half the shit he does, but I have to give it to him. He always weaves in just enough facts to make a line of bullshit sound real.

When I finally calmed down from the laughing fit, I gave Kelly my brightest smile. “I have to say that is one line of bullshit I never saw coming. How in the world did Tony ever come up with that bullshit?”

“I have no idea. He started handing that line out back at Silverstone. Right after you just took the lead and never once let it go. A lot of the other drivers started questioning where you and Beth learned how to drive after your first few wins. Not to mention all those top five finishes.” The smirk on Kelly’s face let me know that she approved of Tony’s deception tactics.

“You do know that Tony’s bullshit could come back to bite us in the ass?” I asked her with a knowing smile.

“I doubt that love. Most of the other drivers have already figured out to take what Tony says with a grain of salt.” Then she just giggled. “The problem is that they don’t know how to sift through the bullshit for the truth yet. And with each line of bullshit he always gives them a small truth to back up the bullshit.”

It took me a few seconds to realize what Kelly was getting at, but when I did, I started laughing again all over. It was just like Tony. He was a student of history and human nature. He would know what buttons to push and how to twist the truth just right to make a line of bullshit sound real for the masses. If this was 27 years ago, he would have made a prefect propaganda officer for either side of the Cold War.

“Just do me a favor. See if you can curtail Tony’s fun a little. Before it gets all of us in trouble. This could come back to bite us in the ass.” I figured that I needed to point out the basic problem we were facing.

“Okay love I’ll get a handle on Tony’s fun and games.” Kelly pouted her lower lip. “Shame though, he was just really getting started with screwing the other drivers’ heads. I figure that it would take maybe one or two more twists and they’ll be chasing their tails.”

“Just how bad has his tall-tails gotten?” I asked her.

“Let’s just say that things have just started getting juicy.” She giggled.

“Oh god. I just hope that none of those monkey nuts try some crazy shit out there.” I sighed. I just knew that one of the other drivers would try to prove something out there on the track during a race. That they were better than Beth and me. That our ‘secret training’ meant nothing in the real world.

“I doubt that Bobbie. You and Beth have made too big of a name for yourselves as extremely skilled drivers. Not to mention being unconventional in your driving style. The way that you two bring your street racing skills into the professional circuits is just too far out there for most of the other drivers to handle.” Kelly sighed then snarked. “You’re both kind of crazy when you race. Especially when you’re racing each other.”

“Wait a damned minute here. I’m not crazy. Especially when I drive.” I pouted my lip just the way she had. Kelly just smiled and kissed me.

“I know that you’re not crazy love. It’s just that the way you drive is so far out there on the edge. It scares the shit out of the other drivers.” Kelly explained as she hugged me. “We’ve all seen it, Bobbie. You’re just too close to see or understand what you and Beth do out there.”

I shrugged my shoulders and kissed her on the lips. “Whatever babe. For now, I have something else to think about. The track and putting up a decent Qualifying time. This is one track where pole position is going to be the make or break point the team.”

Kelly just smiled picked up and helmet while I grabbed my balaclava, and gloves. Kelly took a hold of my free hand and we walked out the team trailer. The guys and gals of my pit crew were already pushing the team’s cars out of the garage area onto pit road. As I neared the car, I could tell that dad and the Crew Chiefs had been tinkering with the setup. For some reason it sat lower than normal today and the rear wheels looked like they had pushed outward. Then there was the rear wheels themselves. If I didn’t know better. I would swear that they were wider than normal.

I walked over to stand next to dad. In a voice that was barely above a whisper. “How close are we pushing the limits here dad?”

“Much more and we’ll be outright cheating. We’re right on the edge Speedy.” Was dad cryptic reply. “What the Marshals don’t know helps us. Understood?”

“Gotcha dad.” I a bad German accent I imitated one of my favorite TV show characters, Sergeant Shultz. “I see nothing, I know nothing, I hear nothing.”

“I swear I’m going to cut off your access to our Amazon Prime if it keeps giving you such rotten material.” Dad bitched before chuckling.

I knelt down and held my hands in a begging manner. “Oh, please daddy! Not that! Anything but that.”

My antics had the desired effect. My whole pit crew broke up laughing. My parents just stood there shaking their heads. Mom finally looked over at my dad. “That’s it. She’s finally gone around the bend. It has to be all those chemo treatments. They did more to her than we knew. I’ll call Shelly the moment she comes off the track.”

“Speaking of getting her out on that track.” Chief Hailee said once he got his laughter under control. “They’re calling for drivers to take to their cars. Bobbie, it’s time to get down to business.”

“Gotcha, Chief. Any last words of wisdom?” I knew that the man was my best bet for inside information about this track. He had studied the track maps and films of every track on the Formula One Circuit.

“I got only one piece of advice Speedy. Stay out of the throttle until the final Qualifying laps. Give the track time enough clear off the dust and a get a heavy covering of rubber. You may not like where you end up in the pole positions, but it’ll be better than plowing in on one of the turns.” I could tell that Chief Hailee was worried about this run.

“Understood. You’re not the only one to tell me that today. Kelly said the same thing in the trailer. What I can’t figure out is why this track has such a heavy covering of dust?” I asked them.

“It was the way the tack was built and the fact that it gets little or no use for the rest of the year. Just remember that the turns on this track will come at you hard and fast. Just like at Monaco. And don’t take your eyes off the straightaways. They may be fast but they’re short and three of them end in a nasty ass turn.” I could tell that Chief Hailee was holding something back. The question was what? “One last thing Speedy. The turns are narrow and unforgiving. You turn your back and they’ll eat you alive.”

“Well, shit. You’re just full of good news aren’t you Chief.” As much as I wanted to avoid the first round of Qualifying, I knew that I couldn’t. Beth was already strapping into her car, so I headed for mine. Kelly moved to help me with my preparations for driving.

I put in my earbuds and pulled my balaclava over my head. Meanwhile Kelly tucked my ponytail inside of my leathers. I pulled on my gloves before stepping into the cockpit of my car. As I wiggled my way down into the seat Kelly moved the safety straps out of the way. Once in she quickly moved to secure the straps and me inside the cockpit. I pulled on my helmet just after I hit the play button for my I-pod. I let the music play as I signaled Chief Hailee that I was ready to roll. Hailee signaled David and he kicked the engine over. As the engine roared to life, I once again felt the demon that was chained to my will through the seat of the car.

With the engine running I knew that I was once more ready to do my job. Out there on that track is where I belonged. Out there chasing down my heroes. Out there chasing down my dreams. As the field rolled out for the first round of Qualifying, I come alive once again. It doesn’t take us long to weed out the bottom of the field. After the first six-minutes of the eighteen-minute Qualifying time both Beth and I were locked in for the top ten positions.

As we rolled back into pit road I could tell that we would be a shoe in for the top ten positions during Q2. As I pulled to a stop Chief Hailee gave me some good news. “I think you girls are going to want to hear this. The Marshals have placed grid penalties on four of the drivers ahead of you already. One technical and three driving infringements.”

“Holy fuck. Who got busted?” Beth asked.

“Doesn’t matter, sis. With those four grid penalties we’re closer to the front of the pack. As far as I’m concerned, the more of those that get handed out the better. So long as we’re not the ones getting nailed.” I smirked.

“Don’t go thinking like that Bobbie.” Mom snapped. “We’re already pushing the limits on your cars as is.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s just that so long as we’re not having to fight our way through the pack during the race it’s better for us.” I countered.

“I understand, honey. But if the Marshals start measuring and double checking the specs on our cars. We could be the ones paying the penalties.” Mom whispered. “Trust me. Your cars are barely legal.”

“Okay, just how close to the edge are our cars?” I demanded of both my parents and Crew Chiefs.

“Let’s just say that we’re just under the edge with our specs. We’re legal but just barely. I did everything I could to give you the edge you need out there kiddo.” Dad answered for both him and mom.

“Damn. I didn’t realize we were that close to the edge. Why weren’t we told?” Beth asked them bluntly.

“We didn’t tell you because we know how you two think.” Mom told us. “Look girls. We know that you girls don’t like pushing things to the edge like this, but we had to do it. If you knew how close to the edge you really were, you would refuse to race the cars.”

As much as I wanted to deny what they were telling us. I couldn’t. “Fine. We’ll do things your way. But please don’t make a habit of keeping us in the dark like this mom. We really need to know the full specs on our cars if we’re too pull the full potential out of the cars.”

“We told you both all you needed to know before the first run. Now quit your bitching, Roberta.” Dad snapped and put his foot down. “This is one time where the less you know the better.”

“Bullshit dad. What we don’t know can get us killed.” I figured that I needed to get my point across about keeping secrets.

“Roberta, we would never put you girls in harm’s way. You know this. When we don’t tell you something it is to keep as few people in the know as possible. We do this to give you an edge for winning.” Mom snarled. “All you need to know is that the cars are on the edge of being illegal. That’s all.”

I got the hint and shut up about the cars. “Fine. I got another run to make.”

With that I turned and walked away swallowing my anger. I climbed back into the car and spend the next five minutes getting ready to run the second Qualifying set of laps. This was one track where runaway or out of control emotions would get me killed. As I climbed into the cockpit, I knew that the next eighteen minutes were going to be crazy. As I put my earbuds back in, I shuffled through my playlists. I knew that I needed certain playlist for the rest of the day. I found the one I wanted after a few seconds. I hit the play button and finished getting ready for my next run.

I let the opening notes of AC/DC’s ‘It’s a long way to the top.’ fill my ears as I rolled down pit road. As we pulled onto the track for the second round of Qualifying, I knew that Beth and I would have our work cut out for us. Not that I cared. I had already let the world fallaway and my mind go to that one place I needed to push my car to its limits. For the next five minutes and twenty seconds I rocked outed with each turn and straightaway. I knew that I could push my car further I just needed the right song.

And it came. Out of nowhere a sound that I didn’t even know I had loaded onto my iPod began to play. It reached deep into my soul and pulled out a part of me that I never knew was there. A desire to be the best there ever will be. It didn’t matter what I did. I would always want to be my best. The driving rock twang took me back to those days just after I found out about my cancer. The gut-wrenching fear. The uncertainty of life. Everything that drove me to be a survivor.

As I rounded the turn one the first lyrics of Steve Earl’s ‘Copperhead Road’ thundered in my ears and soul. I hadn’t even cleared the turn when I knew that I had found the song to take me to the pole position. Everyone else was racing for second position going down. This song spoke to me in ways that no other ever would. This song spoke to my roots. It spoke to the roots of my family. It spoke to the days of bootlegging drivers just trying to make a little extra money to feed their families. It spoke of the days when smuggling moonshine across state lines was a way of life for some people. Most importantly it spoke to me of second chances. Second chances at life.

With each turn I gained more ground on the leaders. With each lap I turned in a faster and faster time. Before long only four people stood in my way of the pole position. Beth, Robert McNairy, Joseph Kandinsky, and Oscar Carmike, Robert Campbell’s newest replacement. That team had fought to find a solid replacement for that young man. I think they might have found it in Carmike. He doesn’t have a fathead or overdeveloped sense of self-importance. The man has real skills behind the wheel and almost no fear. Those two factors made the man a truly formidable opponent.

Unlike the other jokers on this circuit. I won’t make the mistake of disrespecting either of those two men. They’re just too damned good to take lightly. Anybody who is stupid enough to take either McNairy or Carmike lightly is going to get a nasty surprise. That is something that neither Beth nor I have yet to do with any of our opponents.

When we finished the second round of Qualifying, I knew that we had snatched the top five slots. As we pulled onto pit road for the final break between Qualifying rounds, I couldn’t help but smile. I had left my anger out on the track. Mom and dad may be pushing the edge of legality with our cars, but they had given us the best setup they could for the race. One that fit our style of driving to a tee.

Once again, I climbed out of the cockpit to let the Marshals go over the car. Just as I knew they would. They would check the cars after each run. I didn’t really care. I knew that we were legal and that was all that mattered. After the mandatory break the top ten drivers headed back out for the last round of Qualifying. This time I knew that I would lock down the pole position. There was just no way for me to not come in with the fastest time.

Chief Hailee walked up to me just before I climbed back into the cockpit of the car. “Bobbie, you’ve been doing good out there. You’ve held back long enough. There should be enough rubber down now for you to turn in some hellish times. Just remember what I said about the corners.”

“I remember Chief.” I answered with a smile. Then I wondered about something else. “By the way where are pole wise?”

“As it stands right now. You’re in fifth place. Kandinsky and Carmike are tied for fourth. Beth has second place locked down tight. McNairy as you figured has the pole. You got a lot of ground to make up Speedy.” Chief Hailee told me with a smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Like I said Speedy. It’s time to quit holding back.”

“Understood Chief. I finally figured out what you and parents did to the cars. It took me both of the first Qualifying rounds.” This time I was the one whose smile didn’t reach their eyes. “You set them up as close to our cars back home. You pushed the edges of engineering to get the cars as close to ‘street legal’ as possible.”

“Now, you’re catching on, kiddo. Time to get nasty.” Chief Hailee chuckled.

With that I pulled out my iPod one more time. This time I shuffled through my playlists until I found the one that I wanted. The one that I always used back home when rat-racing. I held off on hitting the play button until the Marshals signaled for the last ten drivers to take to their cars. It was time for me to put an end to who truly owns the pole position.

As we pulled out of pit road, I slipped my hand off the wheel and hit the play button. Nickelback’s ‘Burn it down’, ‘Animals’ filled my soul to be followed by AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ and ‘Who made who’. With each song the faster I drove. I soon past both Kandinsky and Carmike as if they were standing still. I slipped pass Beth on turn 13 by hugging the inside curb for all I was worth. I knew that she would be hot on my heels the second we cleared turn 14. Not that I cared. I had McNairy in my sights.

He was the last opponent in my way to the pole position. I had already figured out that the only way to truly control this race was from out front. The only way for me to insure that was to be there from the beginning. And the only way to insure that is to take the pole position and keep it. I’ve only one problem. Try as I might I just cannot catchup to McNairy. I didn’t really care I just knew that I was turning in faster track times.

As I pulled in at the end of the final lap, I knew that I had secured the pole position. I had no idea of where Beth placed. I knew she had to place somewhere in the top five positions. I would just have to wait for the Marshals to announce who got what position.

As I climbed out of my car, I saw mom and dad waiting for us. I didn’t wait for them to come to me. I went to them. I didn’t give my parents a chance. I just grabbed mom in a rib cracking bearhug. I did the same for dad once I let mom go. As I stepped back, I had a mile-wide smile on my face. Beth was right behind me with her own hugs.

“We see that you finally figured out what we did to your cars kiddo. How do you like the setup?” Asked dad with a matching smile.

“It took Chief Hailee explaining things for me to finally figure things out. Why didn’t you just tell me that the cars were as close to bootlegger specs as possible?” I really wanted to know his to this one.

“We kept it from you girls for a reason. We want to see if you could figure out the setups on your own. You girls have to know more than just the specs of the cars. You have to know how they affect the way you drive.” Mom answered me with a smile. “Just out of curiosity how many gallons of shine do you think those two cars could hold?”

Beth looked over at our two cars and frowned. “Maybe ten gallons each. We would have to hallow out all the sections of the bodies to get any more in.”

“No way, Beth. The best they’ll hold right now is just five gallons.” I countered. I had already figured out the total number of gallons of shine that could be smuggled by these cars. “With the right mods the best we could stuff into those cars is fifteen gallons.”

About that time Chief Hailee and Marks walked up to us. Chief Hailee had a thin smile on his face. “Got good news and bad news, people.”

“What’s the good, Chief?” Mom asked him quickly.

“Beth and Bobbie will be on the same line for the starting positions.” Hailee explained for us. At the same time, I got a very unsettling feeling.

“And what is the bad, Chief?” Dad asked him.

“Even though Bobbie and Beth turned in some of the fastest times on record they were not the fastest.” I felt my gut drop. I knew that we had the top two positions. I just knew it. What could we have done wrong? “McNairy and Carmike both turned in record breaking times.”

“Damn. Looks like we’re going to fight our way though to the end. I know that we needed the top two positions. With those two holding the top slots we’re going to do good to take home third and fourth on this track.” I bitched for everyone to hear. “We’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Bobbie, sweetheart. When are you going to realize that you can’t win them all?” Kelly smirked as she hugged me.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” I blushed.

Off to one side Tommy and Beth started to chuckle. “That’s our Speedy for you. Never satisfied with just placing in the top five.”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 29
Budapest Hungary, Sunday, Race Day, 0630

I don’t know what woke me more than an hour ago but I know it wasn’t Kelly. The morning air from our hotel balcony carried a freshness that I haven’t smelled in a long time. There was also just the hint of flowers in the air. I want to say that it smelled of victory but I’m not one to jinx myself before a race. Especially when I knew that I was starting off with a handicap.

I look over at Kelly as she sleeps and smile. Last night’s Sponsor party had really taken it out of her. Then again, I also knew that something else was bothering her. She hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days. I think part of it is being engaged to me. Just the stress of planning the wedding has to be taking a toll on her mentally. Then you add in taking care of our new house back home, the globetrotting to be with me at races on weekends, I won’t even try to add in the worry she hides as I get out there and race my hardest to win, it all must be overwhelming at times for her. I know she won’t wakeup for another hour.

I grab my running tights and clean sports bra. I let Kelly sleep as I dress in the bathroom. Grabbing my room key, I head down for a quick workout in the hotel gym. As I enter the hotel gym I smile. It seems that I’m not the only one who can’t sleep this morning. There around me are more than three quarters of the other drivers, even Beth is down here. I headed over to the area set off to one side for stretching and join Thomas Reichenbach. For a German, the guy has a wicked sense of humor.

“Morning Thomas. I see that we’re not the only ones having problems sleeping this morning.” I smiled over at the man who couldn’t be more than five years older than me.

“Guten Morgen auch für Sie Bobbie.” Thomas blushed for a second. “Sorry Fräulien please forgive me. I am still working on my English. I forget at times that not all people speak my native tongue.”

This time I got to show off a little. “Denkt nichts daran, Her Reichenbach. Eine der wenigen Schulklassen, die ich besuchte, war Deutsch. Ich verstehe Ihre Muttersprache besser als einige hier.”

Thomas chuckled at my attempt at German. “Not too bad, Fräulien. I can tell that you were taught by an American though. One who never really spent time in my country. Your accent is closer to that of someone from Northern Niedersachsen. Um… you would call that area Lower Saxony.”

“Oh. I never really thought to question my teacher about where he learned his German or if he even spent time in your country. I guess that’ll teach me not to make assumptions about my teachers.” I chuckled as Thomas just laughed.

“I believe that all children are led to believe that their teachers are infallible in the classroom. It is not until we leave school and go out among the real world that we learn of their failings.” Thomas pointed with his own chuckle. “I often find my own problems with my old teachers.”

As I sat down and spread my legs out as far as I could Thomas blushed. I mean here I am in a pair of skintight leggings, leotard, t-shit, and running shoes leaving nothing to the imagination. I was never so glad to be wearing my gaff and its ability to hide my secret. I just leaned over to take my right foot in my hands and pulled myself down to touch my forehead to my knee. I held the stretch for a count of ten then did the same with my left legs. I know that I’m driving Thomas a little, nuts. He isn’t the only one who is watching me stretch out before my workout. This is something that I’ve grown used to over the last few months. Men watching with more than a little sexual interest in their eyes.

I had talked with Doc Sharron about the feelings that this brought up in me the first time it happened. I know that I started to look more like a girl a few years ago, but it wasn’t until I started living fulltime as a girl that men looked at me this way. Even now it has taken me the last few months to come to grips with the uncomfortable fact that I present the appearance of a beautiful young woman. All thanks to Izzy’s magic.

No, I can’t blame her solely for my transformation into a beautiful young woman. Most of it belongs to the experimental chemo treatments and my natural genetic makeup. Even as a little kid I had problems with people confusing my sex. Mom used to kid me about people asking her why she cut her daughter’s hair like a boy’s. Mom used to say that I would get so mad at people for calling me a ‘cute little girl’ when I was really young. As much as I want to scream about the unfairness of it all it won’t do me any good. Sharron taught me that during one of our first sessions. I got off the pity wagon a long time ago. I haven’t gotten back on it since.

After spending the next fifteen minutes stretching out, I headed over to the weight sets. I follow the program that Coach Hall worked out for me. I have to give it to the woman. She was able to come up with weight workouts for each of us individually. For each member of the team she had come up with a workout that was designed especially for that person and their position on the team. For me and Beth she went that extra mile. The workouts Coach came up for us were designed to increase both our psychical strength and stamina as drivers. We went from barely being able to get through a standard Formula One practice session to a being able to stay focused for an hour and half to a two-hour race. If not longer. I got a feeling that Beth and I could make the switch to NASCAR with ease, as far as it goes mentally and physically.

I followed Coach’s orders for race day and didn’t push myself on the weights. After doing three sets at each station I moved over to the treadmills. There I set the speed for a seven-minute mile. I know that seems like a fast pace but like the rest of the team I had worked up to this speed. The kick in the head is I could have set the speed for a much faster pace. Most of us can now run a five to six-minute mile pace for fifteen miles. We were all trained to that level of physical conditioning. All thanks to Coach Hall.

Beth joined me a few minutes after I started my run. She just set her treadmill to the same pace as my own and started to run. It didn’t take us long to fall into a rhythm as we ran. We had just gotten a good sweat worked up when Coach Hall and Kathy entered the gym. Coach didn’t even stop to stretch out she just walked over to the treadmills and started turning the speeds down. Now normally she was very intimidating to us kids on the team. For some reason today she was beyond her normal intimidation levels. I think it had something to do with the mirrored sunglasses.

I mean normally when you have a six-foot plus, blonde haired, steel-gray eyed, amazon for a gym Coach you understand there are certain boundaries that you don’t cross. I mean give me a fucking break here. The woman scared most men just by glaring at them. When you’re as short as I am, well you figure it out damn it. Yet there was something else that was even more frightening about the Coach today and I just couldn’t put my finger on it, yet.

When Kathy finished with her stretching, she join us on the treadmill next to me. I noticed that she set her pace for a ten-minute mile. Just as her mother had set everyone else’s. Then her mother spoke up for the first time. “Kathrine, ikke gå over ti minutters mil. Forstått?”

“Ja Momma. jeg skjønner. Jeg vil ikke presse meg selv.” Called back to her mother and sighed. “God! I can’t believe that my own mother is hung over.”

“Yeah Kathy what’s up with your mom and that wired language you two were speaking?” I asked as I ran at an easy pace now.

“Oh, you’ve never heard momma speaking in her native tongue.” Kathy said with a sad smirk. “Sorry about that, Bobbie.”

“Forget about apologizing. Just tell me what is up with that shit. I mean I’ve never heard her use an accent or any other language other than English. Just where was your mother born?” I asked her in bewilderment.

“Oh, that’s right. I think that you and Beth are the only ones that didn’t know my mom is originally from Norway. She meet my dad back in ninety-one. He was a pilot working for Delta, before taking a job with DNL. That’s the Det Norske Luftfartselskap or the Norwegian Aviation Company. They dated for like six months then got married. After four years, dad was promoted. He became a senior command pilot and got stationed out of Charleston. He talked with mom and they moved the whole family back to Darlington. In two-thousand they had me their last kid.” She told us as we ran. “Anyway, she’s been around English-speaking people and worked in the States long enough now that she has lost her accent most of the time.”

“What does that have to do with her being hung over this morning?” Beth huffed out as the run was starting to get to both us.

“She ran into a couple of guys from the other teams last night that were from her homeland. She got way too drunk last night. I mean blasted, drunk guys. I’ve never seen her that drunk before.” Kathy looked over at her mom and smiled. “I’ll be honest guys. I’m kind of glad she went out last night.”

“Why?” Beth asked her. “Doesn’t she date at home?”

“Never. Most of the guys back home take one look at her and run.” Kathy huffed out just before she sighed. “Not that I can blame them. I mean just take a good look at my mom. She’s a fucking Norse Valkyrie straight out of legend for fucks sake.”

As much as I want to dispute her I couldn’t. Kathy was only telling the truth about her mother. Like I said. Coach Hall stood over six feet tall. Her body was like something out of a fantasy novel drawing. I mean who has measurements that are forty, twenty-seven, thirty-eight with a double D breast and is real. Then there is the blonde hair that reaches the middle of her back when it down like a lion’s mane. When you add in her almost supernaturally steel-gray eyes Coach Hall takes on an almost unearthly quality about her. So yeah, I can see why most men wouldn’t try to date her. I mean they would most likely see her as being way out of their class.

“Damn girl that sucks. Say you never but what does your dad think about all the traveling you and your mom have been doing?” I asked her just before taking a deep breath.

“Dad and my brothers have been out of the picture for seven years now. He took a position that has him flying the Pacific routes for Delta. My brothers being older than me decided to go live with dad. Mom got a divorce shortly after he moved out. Mom found out that he had been cheating her with one of the Chief Stewardesses from his old airline. The slug married the bitch less than month after the divorce. My half-sister was born only seven months later.” Kathy growled the last part. “I still can’t believe my brothers took his side. I mean come on. They had to know that dad was cheating on mom.”

I spotted something in the way she was talking about her dad that worried me. “Look, Kathy if you ever need to talk you can just come to me or Beth. We both know what’s it like to have something driving you a little crazy. It’s not healthy to keep all that anger bottled up like that.”

“Don’t worry Bobbie. I got my own shrink back home. Doc Rains even let’s me call him when were away from home. Like now.”

“Is that Doctor Peter Rains over in Florence?” I asked.

“Yup. That’s him. He’s pretty cool for an old geezer.” I laughed at her disruption of Doctor Rains. I would have called him a grouch and asshole.

I looked up at the gym’s clock and realized that I needed to start my cooldown. “Well, Kathy as much as I would love to stay here and just run.”

“Yeah I know. You still have a race to get ready for and all the craziness beforehand. I don’t know how you do it, Bobbie. I mean, I would have pounded more than a few of the reporters and fans flat at times.” Kathy smiled.

“Trust us, Kathy. It ain’t easy at times. I don’t mind the fans most of the times. They’re normally pretty nice and polite about things. It’s the reporters that I normally want to just take a Monkeywrench to. Some of them can push the boundaries of politeness.” I answered honestly.

Beth and I left Kathy to finish her run and work. We went through our cooldown routine and left the gym. I checked the time on my phone as we went up in the elevator. I had actually been working out for longer than I expected. By more than an hour. I smiled over at Beth.

“I didn’t see Tony downstairs in the gym. Did he sleep in this morning?”

“Nope. He was up before me. He had to do something down at the track this morning with Chief Hailee and Marks. Something about giving my car a little more of an edge out there today. We both know that I’m going to need it.” Beth complained as she looked down at her feet. I could see something was bothering Beth big time right now.

“Okay sis, what the fuck is up with you? You’re never this on edge about a race. What’s eating you? Maybe I can help.” I figured nothing ventured nothing gained. The least she’ll do is tell me to fuck off.

“Bobbie, we both know that I’m not nearly as good as you are. If I don’t start winning more our sponsors may decide to cut their loses with me.” I could tell that there was more to it than just the thought of losing her sponsorship. Besides I knew that she was just as good as me.

“Bullshit Beth. Now what is really bothering you? Talk to me Beth.” I almost pleaded with her. “What has you so on edge about this race?”

“Fine, you want to know. Well it’s not the race Bobbie. It has nothing to do with me or the teams at all. It’s Kelly. She’s.” Beth just stopped before saying anything more and took a deep breath. “Look, Bobbie, Kelly came to me at the party last night to talk. I think you really need to pull her off to the side and talk with her before the race today.”

“What’s wrong with Kelly, Beth?” I demanded.

“It’s not my place to tell you, Bobbie. Just talk with Kelly before the race.” Beth’s refusal to answer my question pissed me off.

“NO! YOU TELL ME RIGHT NOW!” I yelled.

Beth just shook her head no and got off on her floor saying. “It’s not my place Bobbie. Only you need to have a heart-to-heart with Kelly before the race today. I would suggest that you do it before you head down to track.”

With that Beth walked towards her room leaving me with the elevator doors closing in my face. As I waited for the elevator stop on my floor, I went over in my head what could be the problem with Kelly. More importantly why would Kelly go to Beth before me. I mean what could be so important that Kelly had to hide it from me. It just didn’t make sense.

When I opened the door to my room, I hear the sounds of someone throwing up coming from the bathroom. I looked around our room and didn’t see Kelly anywhere. It had to be her. I opened the bathroom door to find Kelly kneeling down in over the toilet emptying her stomach. I went over to the sink and wet a washcloth. Kneeling down next to her I pulled Kelly’s hair away from her neck and place the cool washcloth across her neck. I sat there holding her hair for the next few minutes. When she finally stopped, I had a good idea that she was more than a little sick.

I helped her up so she could rinse out her mouth at the sink. I wanted to smile as she grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth then rinsed with mouthwash. I knew that Kelly was always big on dental hygiene. I reached over and picked up her hairbrush and began to brush out her hair. I knew that it would calm her nerves, if not her stomach. I had a feeling I now knew what was going on with Kelly. I just needed her to confirm my suspicions.

“Care to tell me something important love? Oh, let’s say something about your cycle?” I figured if I approached the subject first, she would be more forthcoming with an honest answer.

She just sighed and looked into the mirror before answering. “I’m late, Bobbie. By more than three weeks.”

“Have you taken a home pregnancy test yet?” I asked her.

“Not yet. I haven’t been able to find somewhere to get one over here. We both know that my mom and dad will want me to take the test at home anyway.” Kelly whined as she started to cry. “Oh, Bobbie what are we going to do?”

“We’ll do what we have done since the beginning love.” I told her as I wrapped her in my arms. “We’ll face it together. As a couple.”

I held my love as she cried gently in my arms. I felt the stress flow out of her over having to tell me that she might be pregnant. Once she had calmed down, I leaned back. “I’ll be right back love.”

I ran into our room and grabbed the phone calling down to the front desk. When the hotel clerk answered I got straight to the point. “Yes, does your shoppette carry home pregnancy tests ma’am?”

“Yes, Miss McGuire it does.” The desk clerk confirmed for me what I hoped.

“Yes, can you please have two sent up to my rooms immediately?” I asked. I knew that I could count on the hotel desk clerk’s discretion.

“Right away mama. I’ll have them brought you in a plain brown bag sealed with hotel security tape. How do you want to pay may I asked?” The clerk was being more than helpful right now. So, I decided to be smart.

“What’s the total?” I asked her.

“That’ll be fourteen-ninety-five Euros or four-thousand-eight-hundred-and-fifty-five Forint, Miss McGuire.” She answer honestly.

“How much in US dollars? No on second thought, I’ll just send back an envelope with my payment in Dollars. You can keep the change.” I did the maths in my head. I figured I could put a fifty in the envelope and guarantee that she would keep her mouth shut. I mean I would be tipping double what the two tests would cost. “So long as I am ensured your discretion of course.”

I will give the woman this much. She wasn’t dumb. “I shall be right up Miss McGuire. No need to bother any of the other staff with this small matter.”

“Thank ma’am. See you shortly.” With that I hung up the phone and went back into the bathroom. “Okay, baby. This is what we’re going to do.”

“No need to tell. I heard you talking with the desk clerk. Are you sure you can trust the woman?” She asked me.

“Darling I have learned a few things in my travels. One of them being this. All hotel desk clerks have one thing in common. Their silence can be paid for with the right amount and proper currency. I have a feeling that a fifty spot will keep that young woman’s lips sealed about what she is bring up here.” I was trying to project confidence in my plan.

Kelly smiled and walked out to the bedroom. After pulling on her rube Kelly found her purse. She pulled out wallet. “Here give her two-hundred and tell her to keep the change. I don’t want anyone finding out until we’re ready.”

I did what she wanted. I just took the two one-hundred dollars bills and added them to the one I already had in my hand. I figured that three-hundred bucks should be a good enough bribe to keep our secret. I heard a knock at the room door and went go see who it was. I looked through the peep hole and smiled. That desk clerk must really want that tip. I opened the door just wide enough to reach out and take the brown bag from her and give her the money. When she saw the three one-hundred dollar bills her eyes bugged out.

“I’m sure that should cover the expense of the tests and cover your silence on this matter, ma’am.” I gave her a friendly smile. “If not, I think I can find a way to make your life miserable.”

“No need for the threats Miss McGuire. You have my silence. I do have to ask if this is a good thing or bad. Just for personal curiosity of course. I am a big fan of you and your sister.” The smile she gave held no deviousness in it all. She was genuinely curious if Kelly being pregnant was a good thing.

“Let’s just say that I’m hoping for a positive outcome. The rest is up to my better half Miss Ringwald.” I whispered for the woman.

“Then I wish you all the luck.” With that I closed the door and turned to Kelly. I hand her the brown bag and kissed her cheek.

“Whatever the results love. I’ll be here for you. To hell with what everyone else thinks. You’re my one and only. Only death can separate us.” I pushed her into the bathroom. “There are two in there. Use them both.”

Kelly just nodded her head as she passed me closing the door behind her. While I waited for her to come out, I did the only thing I could to relax my mind and calm my own nerves. I opened my laptop and signed on to the network. I went to one of my favor websites. It had all these inspirational quotes by famous people throughout history. I hit the random selector. I was a little surprised by what was brought up.

It was from some guy named G.K. Chesterton “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” The reason it took me by surprise because of the settings I had on this site. You see, while I respect soldiers of any nation for what they do, I’m a lover not a fighter. The only place I ever really let my anger out is behind the wheel of my car as I push it to the edge in a race. Other than that, I try to avoid fights. It’s not that I can’t or won’t fight. It’s because I really hate what I become when I fight. It’s not pretty.

The next quote was from Douglas MacArthur. “The best luck of all is the luck you make for yourself.” I had to think about this one for a few minutes. I sure I’ve been lucky in a lot of my races. The question did I really make any of the luck myself. No, every one of those victories was because of my skills behind the wheel. Then again could I really say that. I mean I’ve had a shit load of help getting those wins from the people in my team. Especially the guys and gals in the pit. May be MacArthur was right about luck.

I hit the button for the next quote and was surprised to find one from Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. “In a man-to-man fight the win is the one with one more round in his magazine.” At first, I didn’t understand this quote and it took me looking it up to get the meaning. I thought about how I could apply it to racing. Sure, I know it talks about war, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use it for racing. That’s what is out there on the track really. Every man for themselves. It all comes down to who has got one last trick up their sleeve in a race. That one last ounce of skill that wins a race.

I was interrupted in my search as Kelly stepped out of the bathroom. She had both tests in her hands. I noticed that they were trembling slightly. I put my laptop to one side and walked over taking the tests from her hands. I looked down not knowing what to expect. There before my eyes were two lines on one test and a plus sign on the other. I didn’t need directions to figure at that the one with the plus sign meant she was pregnant. When I held up the one with two blue lines and looked at Kelly she nodded yes.

I think my whooping and hollering woke the last of the guests on this floor. I grabbed Kelly up and spun her around. I know this sounds crazy, but I was afraid that I would never be a parent. Not with everything that the chemo drugs did to my body. As I sat her back down on the floor I was smiling from ear to ear. Kelly though had turned a little green.

“Oh god baby. I thought you would be happy.”

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I am now that I know you’re not upset. But please don’t go spinning me around again. I don’t think my stomach could take it and I really do want to eat something this morning.”

I chuckled. “Okay, baby, whatever you want. Do you think you can work the spotter’s nest for this race? Or do you want to just stay out of the way with mom and dad down in the pits?”

She thought about what I was asking. “I think it would be best if I just stayed out of the way with your mom. I got a feeling that your mother may already have her suspicions, Bobbie.”

“We’ll face that if she brings it up. Right now, just get dressed in your normal leathers as if getting ready for a race but leave the NOMEX gear out. If anyone asked why you’re not in the pit tell them honest that you’re sick. I highly doubt anyone on the team will hold that against you.” Kelly smiled and gave me another hug before turning to run back into the bathroom.

I heard the sounds of vomiting sound after the door closed. “DAMN! I guess I am lucky. At least I’m not the one dealing with morning sickness.”

I waited until she finished before going back in and helping her up off the floor. I got her out of her robe and nightgown then into the shower. I joined her after stripping down myself. Thankfully that was the last round of morning sickness for today. We quickly dressed for the day and headed downstairs. Thankfully, Mercedes arrange for cars to take us to and from the track. With Kelly besides me we head for the track. I knew that she still wasn’t up to eating and would get something there before the race. Yeah, I know that is not the healthiest thing to do, but I don’t need her vomiting again on me. I don’t think she’ll be ready to eat something until later today. I also needed to find Coach Hall and talk with her about a training schedule for my now pregnant fiancée.

The rest of the morning went just like normal. Fan meet-n-greet, introductions, press meetings, fans autographs, and finally the call to cars. This was the last time that I was going to see Kelly until after the race was over. We had already discussed. She helped me into the car, gave me my kiss for luck, handed me my iPod then waited as I put in the ear plugs before handing me my gloves, then helmet. As I was getting situated Kelly pulled the straps to my safety harness tight until I grunted. I had just gotten my helmet down good and the strap tight than she smacked the top of it getting my attention. She leaned down close and open my visor so I could hear her.

“Don’t take any chances out there today. This track is just waiting to eat someone a new ass. But don’t be afraid of it either baby. This is your type of track. This race might as well be a rat-race back home. Keep an eye on your gages and don’t push the engine to hard. We still need it for next month.” I chuckled at Kelly’s orders as they were all dead-on point.

I gave her a thumbs up and slammed my visor down. She smiled pulled back and signaled for the engine to be kicked over. I watched as the first two cars pulled out of their pits stalls and fell in behind them. I knew that Beth would be right behind me. Along with the rest of the field. Today’s race was going to be one long pain in the ass. Mostly because I’ll be playing a waiting game today. Not something I was good at. Today was going to be all about waiting and pressure. Mostly how much pressure I can put on those in front of me throughout the racetrack.

We worked our way around the track following the pace car. Going through the lineup lap I know that it will all come down to the start. The precision and monitoring of the start of Formula 1 races has reached a level that far exceeds that of any other race starting process. So much is at stake during the first few hundred meters of a Formula 1 race now days that some of the most sophisticated and secret engineering on the cars is devoted to helping the driver during those first couple of seconds. All to get his car off the line and up to speed quicker than those around him on the grid. I should know. I mean that was how I ended up here in the first place really. My parents needed a driver on short notice that could do what I was basically about to do. Only now I was doing it almost all the time for real.

The problem was I wasn’t in the most prized spot. I didn’t have the pole position. No, I was one back in the second line next my sister. We held the third and fourth position in the lineup. All we would be able to do for the rest of the day is fight off those behind us and wait for McNairy or Carmike to make a mistake. Which with those two won’t happen anytime soon. The two men were just too damned good to make a stupid mistake out here.

We rounded the last turn and pull onto the starting gird. I fell in behind McNairy while Beth fell in behind Carmike. I looked up at the ‘Christmas tree’ and waited for the go signal. While I waited, I reached down and hit the play button on my iPod. I was set for the race now. All I needed was the go signal. When it came the opening notes of the first song played in my ears. And like a junkie strung out for his favorite fix I was already pushing McNairy as we neared the first turn to the sounds of Kenny Loggins classic ‘Danger Zone’. McNairy’s spotter must have told him to drop the hammer because I was gnawing at his ass and Beth was right behind me. I don’t know where Carmike ended up and didn’t care.

We round the hairpin of turn one and as we entered the second DSR zone headed for turn I hounded the man. I could tell that McNairy wasn’t going to be spooked easily. Not that I cared. I was going to ride his ass all day long if it took. Sooner or later he’d have to let me pass. When cleared turn three and entered section two of the race track it was as if we were glued to each other’s bumpers. I knew that sooner or later something had to give. The problem would be whether it was the human element or the machine element. As we entered section three, I could tell that it was going to be a long, long day. McNairy wasn’t making any mistakes. The man took every turn perfectly. To be blunt, Robert McNairy was driving an almost perfect line.

This race was going to come down to skill and a shit load of luck on the part of the winner. It was now that I finally understood that quote from MacArthur. I also finally grasped what Rommel was talking about in his quote. I was truly in a man-on-man fight with McNairy and whoever had one more ‘bullet’ in our magazine is going to win. I was still working on the quote from that Chesterton guy, but I was beginning to get an idea what he was talking about. I sure as hell didn’t hate McNairy but he was truly a worthy adversary. Someone worthy of my respect in more ways than one, just as all the drivers out here. I may not like some of my fellow drivers but they gave me a reason to push myself all the harder to prove myself to Kelly.

Now that she is carrying my child, I can do no less than my absolute best out here to win. I was already trying to be better than I was the day before. I don’t know what kind of parent I’ll make, but I have some great role models to follow. I can’t wait to tell dad the good news at the end of the race. Even though I have let my thoughts wander a little bit I still have my head in the game. I know that I’ll have to wait for McNairy. No one can withstand this kind of pressure forever. Sooner or later he’ll make a mistake, then his ass is all mine.

By the fifth song change I knew that Kelly had reload my racing mix. I was hearing her favorite songs with each change. I couldn’t help it I was smiling the whole time. I just had to beat McNairy. I wasn’t racing to win any more. I was only racing for her and our child.

For more than half the race I hound his rear like a rabid English Foxhound hot on the trail of a fox. Every turn he sees the nose of my car right there waiting. Always waiting. Waiting for that one crucial mistake. For more than twenty laps I hound him like this. Never letting up, always pushing him to move closer and closer to the edge. But he never breaks. The man is a machine.

But even diamonds break and crumble under too much pressure. McNairy maybe a machine behind the wheel but he is no diamond. The break I’ve been waiting for finally comes on lap fifty-four. McNairy went a little too wide in turn ten. I slide past him and into first place to the sounds of Pat Benatar’s ‘Shadows in the Night’. I had sixteen laps to go to victory. All I had to do was hold off McNairy and the race was mine. Unlike my vaunted advisory this was something I was good at. Very good indeed.

There was no way I was going to lose to McNairy now. The race was mine and no one was going to take it away from me. I round turn fourteen and headed for the start finish line. The next song change comes as I across the line at full throttle. I don’t know where she found this song, but it sets the mood perfectly, Burn it down by Linkin Park. For the next three and a half laps I roar around the track with that sound blasting in my heart and soul. I know that Kathy is watching my ass like a hawk. Because every time McNairy tries something, she gives me a heads-up warning.

As we come back around for lap sixty Kathy comes up on the radio. “Watch your ass Bobbie. Beth is looking to make at play in the next few laps. She’s been sliding closer to the inside edge on every turn.”

“Copy that Kathy. No need to worry though. If Beth does make a move it’ll be to the outside. She never goes to the inside.” I knew my sister and her driving style better than anyone. I should know as I’ve raced her enough times.

“Okay, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” Kathy snapped.

“Trust me Kathy. I know my sister. There is something about going to the inside that has always scared her. She won’t go there. Now, if she goes to the outside let me know. Trust me, please?” I had to get Kathy to understand.

“You’re the driver, and the final call is yours. Just don’t blame me when she takes the checkered flag from you.” I wanted to laugh but there was something about the way Kathy was talking that got my attention.

“Where’s McNairy?” I asked quickly.

“He’s still fighting with Beth for second place. Why?”

“AH SHIT. Okay let me know the second she clears McNairy. Because then the race will be on for the win.” I wondered why McNairy hadn’t been hounding me the way that I knew he could. The man was just too good.

“Copy that, but I can tell you now that Beth will put him down any second now. I got to tell you Bobbie. She still wants revenge for your win at Silverstone. If I were you, I would keep your eye on her more than McNairy.” As soon as Kathy finished her warning Thousand Foot Krutch’s Courtesy Call begins to play over my earbuds. I just knew that it was an omen.

Four laps later I was proven right. “Beth just cleared McNairy and is climbing up your ass Bobbie. I figure you got maybe a half to full lap before she is eating up your rear end. What you going to do now?”

The words my father told me after Silverstone came back to haunt me as I round turn eight. ‘Bobbie, allow me to give you a piece advice kiddo. Never piss of a woman. You see they’re like elephants. They never forget. Only there is one difference between a woman and those massive animals. A woman never forgives.’ Yup I’m screwed. Beth is out for revenge.

I find myself fighting her off in less time than Kathy predicted. She was hot on my heels by turn twelve and not backing down. I had only six more laps to go to secure the win. I only had one problem. My sister.

There was no way that she was going to lose her temper this time. She’s just too calculating to let that happen. She has six laps to find her way around me and I have the same number of fighting her off. I start going over her weak points. I know that I’ll need every fucking advantage I can come up with to beat Beth out here today. Of all the drivers out here, she has always been my biggest threat. Just as I know her every weakness, she knows mine. And as much as I hate to say it at times. She is just as good a driver as I am. We’re the two sides of the same coin.

For the next five laps Beth gnaws at my ass end like a Terrier with a rat. She goes inside one turn, then outside the next. Turns where she should go to the inside she goes to the outside and vise-versa. On the straightaways when she should be pushing to make up ground, she is dropping back then at the last second powering down the strip. It’s maddening. I can’t figure out her plan for passing me. To tell you the truth it’s starting to get on my fucking nerves. Not even my music is able to keep me calm anymore.

Then finally on the last lap she makes her move and I never saw it coming. Not even Kathy was ready for what Beth pulled. Hell, doubt anyone would have been ready for this shit. We came down the front straightaway side by side. I was expecting her to brake for the hairpin turn but instead she whips inside of me and drifts around the turn as if on ice. She powers away from me before I have a chance to recover from her sudden move. I knew the race was over before I even cleared turn two. Beth was gone and there was no way for me to catch her happy ass. With one well planned and well executed maneuver my sister had snatched victory from my hands.

“Sorry about that Bobbie. I tried to follow her through that first turn, but she just went to the inside before I could warn you.” Kathy told me.

As much as I wanted to bitch her out I couldn’t. It was my fault that she wasn’t watching the inside line. I told her not to waste her time. “Forget about Kathy. I’m the one to blame for this loss. I was the one who told you that Beth never goes to the inside. Nothing for it but to finish the race and take her ribbing. She earned this one.”

I finished the race by keeping McNairy busy for the rest of the final lap and cross the finish line in second place. As I slowed down and curse around the track one last time I had to smile. Beth got her win and revenge, and I found out that I was going to be a father. I also found out that I had more to live for than just Kelly and setting her up for life. I actually had a pretty great damned day.

As I pulled to a stop in the pits, dad was there to greet me. As I handed him my helmet Danny was unstrapping me from the car. The two of them helped me climb out of the car not that I needed it. As I pulled off the rest of my gear I was smiling. Dad gave me a funny look.

“This has to be one of the few times I’ve ever seen a driver smile at losing a race. What’s gotten into you? You been smoking some wacky weed kiddo?”

“Nope I haven’t touched that shit in almost three years grandpa. You know that.” I waited for the grandpa crack to sink in. I wondered how long it was going to take dad to figure out what I was trying to tell him.

“Okay now I know you’re stoned if you’re calling me grandpa. That or you’re dehydrated to the point of needing to see the medics.” Dad was waving for one of the guys to go get the infield medical staff.

I sighed. And stopped Mike before he went made a fool of himself on dad’s behalf. “Dad listen to me closely. I had a great run out there today. So, what if I lost to my sister. In about nine months she’s going to be an aunt. If she is going to be an aunt that means you’re going to be a grandfather.”

It took a few more seconds for the lights to come on in the garage. Dad blinked his eyes at me as he sank down onto a work bench. “Are you sure about that Roberta? No jokes.”

“Two tests, both positive.” I whispered just for him. Then I stood up straight and yelled for the rest of the team to hear. “Kelly is pregnant guys and gals. I’m going to be a parent!”

The whole team stood there looking at me as if I had just announced that I was the second coming or something for a few seconds. Once my news had sank in the yelling and congratulations were pouring in. Right along with the back slaps from the guys and the hugs from the girls. My whole pit area was in celebration mode when mom and Kelly showed up.

“Okay, why are you celebrating coming in second Bobbie?” Mom asked. And I just looked over at Kelly. Mom was no dummy that was for sure. “Do you have something you would like to share with me dear?”

“Um… yes ma’am. Congratulations grandma.” Kelly shied as she placed her hand on her lower belly. “It’s a baby.”

Mom just smiled then turned to me. “I hope you plan to make an honest woman of her before she starts showing?”

“Yes ma’am. We’ll take care of that the second we’re back stateside. I think that we can catch a flight out tonight and be home by tomorrow afternoon. I figure that we can hit the county courthouse when it opens on Tuesday and be married by Friday morning. That way I can spend two weeks at home before I have to fly back for the race in Belgium. That way Kelly can stay home.” I figured that would be best in the long run. I didn’t want her traveling too much while pregnant.

“I’ll call Mister Dewey and have him get the paperwork in order for you by Tuesday. That way all you’ll have to do sign and fill at the courthouse. Seeing as how you’re still technically male there should be no problems.” She said the last part barely loud enough for us to hear. “We can still hold the wedding in October at the Austin race as planned. Be sure to have your mother and father there Kelly.”

“Yes ma’am. But don’t you want to be there for our first marriage?” Kelly asked. “I know that it means a lot to you.”

“I would love to be there darling, but we have to be here with the team.” Mom told her with a sigh.

“That is where you’re wrong Jewels. Chief Hailee, and Marks can handle the team while we go home and take care of a family matter. If they need us, they can reach us by phone. Bobbie go tell your sister that we’re flying out in the morning. If she asks why tell her that it is a family matter and we’ll explain anything once we’re in the air.” Dad said as he joined us. I just smiled and took off to tell Beth the good news. “Come on grandma we got work to do if we’re going to fly home for a fast wedding.”

“Just like everything else this family does. Why should a wedding be any different? Short fast and to the point.” Mom quipped.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you do, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 30
Darlington, South Carolina, mid-October

I rolled over and slapped the alarm clock making the annoying buzz. I know that I have to get out of bed, but I just cannot work up the energy. Then again, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in the last few weeks. My cracked ribs were making it hard to find a comfortable position for sleeping.

“Come on love. Get your ass out of bed. You’ll be back out there in no time.” Kelly ordered from across the bedroom.

“I hope like hell you’re right Kelly. It’s bad enough that Beth has taken over the top spot in the drivers’ race.” I bitched as I sat up looking down at my aching wrapped chest and bruised left arm and leg. “I still can’t believe that I lost control that badly during the Suzuka Grand Prix last week in Japan. I should have won that race. I still can’t figure out what went wrong in that turn.”

Kelly gave me an exasperated look and sighed. “Bobbie it was just bad luck. We’ve all gone over the tapes from the race. You did the best that you could under those race conditions. I mean you were racing in the rain on a slick as hell track. It’s a fucking miracle that there wasn’t more wrecks.”

I sighed because I knew she was right. By all rights there should have been at least fifty percent more wrecks that day. Sadly, mine was the worst of them. It was also the last wreck of the day. I was rounding turn 17 of the Casino Triangle when the left front tire blew out. That blow-out put me into an uncontrollable spin that left me sitting sideways on the track. The car behind me, Thomas Reichenbach, couldn’t stop in time. The man slammed into the right side of my car. Taking Thomas out of the race and sending me to the infield medical center. I felt worse about taking Thomas out of the race by wrecking than spending the next five hours in the emergency room.

The only good thing was Thomas didn’t hold the wreck against me. Hell, he even said that most of the wreck was his fault. He kept saying that he shouldn’t have been riding my ass in the rain. That he should have backed off in the turn. He smiled when I wise cracked that our wreck was nothing more than racing at its best. Which it was really. We were both doing our best to win the race. The wreck was just the luck of the draw. Bad luck sure, but still just luck in the end.

“Okay, Kelly I’ll quit being so hard on myself.” I sighed then pulled my robe on to finish getting ready for my day. “I just hope that the docs give me the all-clear today.”

“I’m sure Doctor Kettle will signoff for you to return to racing. I know that not being able to race has been driving you crazy. You think that driving a racecar is what makes you, you. But it doesn’t love. You’re so much more than just a famous racecar driver. You’re a beautiful woman for starters. You’re an inspiration to all those kids on the cancer wards, not to mention all of the kids in the local schools. Then there was what you do for all the local car clubs. All of these make up who you are as a person, Bobbie. Just remember that as you go into to have the docs check you out today, love.” Kelly’s words sank in slowly, but they were true.

“Thanks, Kelly. As much as I hate to say this, I really needed to hear that.” I really did hate having to admit to the truth like that. I had totally forgotten about how I had helped out with the local car clubs, cancer wards, and my trips to the local high schools as a guest speaker. Looking up at her I smiled as I asked. “So, when is your next appointment? The only reason that I’m asking is well, your baby bump is a little bigger than I expected.”

“Not until just before we head for Austin, why?” Kelly answered.

“Shouldn’t you be having an ultrasound soon?”

“I had one at my last visit. It was while you were in Japan.” Kelly smiled as she pushed me towards the kitchen table. After sliding me in place Kelly walked over to her purse. When she came back, she had a picture in her hand. It was one of those ultrasound pictures that OBGYNs hand out of babies. Only this one was slightly off for some reason and I couldn’t really tell what I was looking at. She leaned down and kissed me on top of the head. “Congratulations papa. We’re having twins. Before you ask, I don’t know the sexes of the twins yet.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. When Kelly first told me that she was pregnant I was beyond thrilled. I had one of my greatest fears put to rest. Now she tells me that we are going to have not one, but two children was beyond my wildest imagination. “Are you and Doctor Sue sure about this? I mean could she be wrong?”

Kelly sighed. “I thought that you would be happy to know that we were having twins. Do you think that me being pregnant is wrong? That we should have waited? Please tell me I’m wrong, Bobbie.”

“It’s not that Kelly.” I quickly put her at ease. “It’s just that I’m slightly shocked that you’re pregnant with twins. Do they run in your family? Because I know that they don’t run in my family.”

It took Kelly a few seconds to understand what I was getting at. She giggled then kissed me. “OH! I forget that you never met my aunt and uncle on my mom’s side of the family. They’re triplets.”

“WAIT! WHAT?” I practically screamed. At my look of total confusion Kelly busted out laughing. “Okay, let me get this straight. Your mom is a triplet. She has a twin sister and brother. Have I got that right?”

“Well, yes. That’s what that means. My uncle Roy and aunt Kelly are my mom’s twin sister and brother. Triplets happen about every fourth of fifth birth in my family. Twins are more common. They normally happen every other birth.” The way that Kelly was explaining things I had a very unsettling feeling. “When mom was pregnant with me her OBGYN gave her an ultrasound every other visit. Just to be sure that I wasn’t a twin.”

“Baby I know this is going to sound crass, but what are the chances that your next pregnancy will be a multiple?” I know that it wrong but the thought of her carrying twins every time she got pregnant was a little scary.

Once again Kelly’s laughed filled our kitchen with joy. “In the thousands love. In the thousands. Just like the odds of you and Beth holding the top two positions for the drivers’ championship race. What where they again?”

I reached over and grabbed my tablet. After pulling up the Los Vegas bookies. “Well, according to the bookies in Vegas the odds for one of us winning the championship are seven-thousand to one. Mainly because we’re ‘rookies.’”

I don’t know if it was the snort or the way I gave out the odds. But Kelly started to laugh her ass off. She was laughing so hard that she started to cry a little bit. It took a dirty look form me to get her to stop laughing. “Oh Bobbie, I’m not laughing at you, but the situation. Of all the bullshit that you and your sister have put up with this season. That has to be the biggest pile of crap in the damned field. Not even that asshole Fontana could believe the odds that bookies around the world have been placing on you and Beth. Hell, even your mom and dad are having a hard time with keeping up on the odds. Of all the drivers on the circuit today, you and your sister are probably the best trained for this type of racing.”

“Okay Kelly, how do you figure that?” I was totally confused by her attitude.

“It’s simple, Bobbie. What is the one thing you and Beth have in common when it comes to racing?” Kelly answered with a smile. “I’ll answer that for you. You both have been rat-racers since you were sixteen. Both of you also worked on test driving your parents’ designs. To be blunt Bobbie, none of those other drivers hold a candle to either of you.”

I was forced to sit there and think about what Kelly was telling me as she went about making coffee and our breakfast. I know that I should be the one preparing breakfast for her, but when I tried a few days ago Kelly took my head off. She bitched me out for the better half of an hour before running me out of her kitchen. Her exact words were ‘I don’t care if I’m close to five months pregnant. This is MY kitchen and you are not allowed in it. Now get!’ To say that I was more than a little surprised would be an understatement.

It was like the rest of the house. In the few months that I had been gone the house had gone under a massive renovation. I don’t know where Mr. Ringwald found the contractor to clear the horse trails, but the man did a fantastic job. The work on the barns was coming along at a rate that was unbelievable. As for the main house most of that work was already done. Only the punchout work was left to be done. The small things like touchup painting, final installation of the fixtures for the downstairs bathroom, and a few other items. According to our contract he had about two more weeks of work before he was done with the main house. In total, there was about four to six weeks more work to be done around the farm.

I smiled up at Kelly as she handed me my breakfast. As much as I hate to say this Kelly is a far better cook than I’ll ever be. The three-egg western omelet with home fries and stewed apples was just the breakfast that I needed this morning. I’ve lost fifteen pounds over the season. With Coach Hall watching whatever we ate over the last few months most of the team has come close to rebellion. The teenager need for junk food was only swayed by the after-race parties. More than one party had catered to the American need for hamburgers, fries, and pizza. I’m pretty sure that Chief Hailee is the one that arranges those parties.

After eating our breakfast, I sent Kelly upstairs to get showered while I took care of the dishes. After that I headed upstairs to shower and dress for the day ahead. Just over an hour and half later I was helping Kelly into our new all black Jeep Gladiator. It was not my first choice as a farm truck, but it’ll do for a family truck. Kelly and I both knew that the minivan was not our style, so we went with the Gladiator. Now that I know we’re expecting twins the Jeep four door truck was perfect for our little family.

Our first stop for the day was with our family doctor. As we drove through town, I also realized something else about the Gladiator. Unlike my Viper, it blended in with the surrounding traffic. Which with my growing fame was something that I needed more and more. I had already heard reports from the guys over at Slow Jakes’ about paparazzi trying to find some kind of dirt on me and Kelly. I also heard about those same paparazzi being escorted to the nearest hospital. The last joker was beaten almost to the point of needing surgery. As it was, he ended up with two broken arms, two black eyes, a bloody nose, three cracked ribs, and a concussion. I can honestly say that the guys and gals of the Darlington Knights and the Blue Devils get extremely protective of mine and Kelly’s privacy.

As I pulled into the parking lot for Doctor Anderson Kettle’s practice, I spotted a very rare but still classic car. It was a 1970 Plymouth Superbird. The car was a short-lived model and updated version of the Plymouth Road Runner. Personally, I always thought of it as a nothing more than a rip off of the Dodge Charger Daytona design. I mean come fucking on. You can put the two cars side-by-side and barely tell them apart.

As much as I wanted to stand around and scope out the Plymouth I had to get inside to my appointment. I helped Kelly out of the truck and headed inside. As I entered the lobby, I spotted a young woman in her mid-twenties. I could tell that she was new to the area just by the way she was dressed. By that I mean nobody who grew up in Darlington county wears their Sunday best to a doctor’s appointment. She was dressed in a three-piece dress business suite with a white silk blouse, and four-inch heels. As I didn’t see the suitcase that normally accompanies a pharmaceutical sales representative, I had no clue as to why the woman would be here.

While Kelly waddled over to the waiting area and took her seat I checked in with the receptionist. The woman looked up at me as I signed in. I expected her to say my name outload but instead she pointed to a name on the register. I looked at the name then at her. She smiled and nodded her head towards the woman siting over in the waiting area. I looked over my shoulder then back to her. The receptionist mouthed one word. ‘Reporter.’ At my quizzical look the receptionist just shook her head.

I didn’t need a building to drop on me to know that this bitch wasn’t here for a checkup. As I took my seat, I grabbed the latest Outdoorsman Guide magazine. Yah I know, total redneck move. I figured if the bitch was here trying to find something out about me then I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I knew that Doc Kettle and his staff would keep their mouths shut. The last time one of them talked about a patient out of school he had their license pulled. I waited for the bitch to make her move. It was all up to her now. I wasn’t going to give her the first shot at me.

At least that was what I thought. “Miss McGuire, would you mind answering a few questions while we wait for our appointment?”

Kelly snarled. “Excuse me that’s Mrs. McGuire and yes I do mind answering any questions. My wife and I are here for medical reasons. Not to give an interview with a sleezy assed reporter.”

The woman chuckled and handed over her business card. “Allow me to introduce myself Mrs. McGuire. Doctor Lilly Counterhouse doctor for the FIA.”

“Okay, what brings you here doc? Doctor Kettle is more than qualified to sign off on my medical clearance.” I growled.

“Yes, he is. But you still need my recommendation to return to racing.” The bitch smiled as if she had me backed into a corner.

About that time, I started to chuckle. I had been looking at the so-called business card the woman had given me. I tore it in half before giving her a glare of total contempt. “Look bitch, just how stupid do you think I am?”

“I assure you Mrs. McGuire that I am on the up and up.” That was as far as I was going to let her get. I was already pissed with the woman.

“CAN IT YOU LIEING CUNT!” I snarled out. “I know Doctor Counterhouse. As much as I hate to say this, you are not HIM. As beautiful as you are, I won’t be falling for your bullshit. You’re not a fifty-seven-year-old man. That only means one thing, you’re a reporter.”

“Um… I think that we have gotten off on the wrong foot here, Mrs. McGuire.” The fake Doctor Counterhouse stated.

“Alright. Just what does that mean?” I snapped.

“For starters Doctor Anderson Counterhouse is my father. I take it that you know him from his work in oncology?” I nodded my head at her question. “Then you shouldn’t be surprised that his children went into different medical fields. My older brother is a doctor of orthopedics and my older sister is a psychiatrist. I specialized in sports medicine and psychiatry. After graduation and residency, I took up a position with the FIA.”

That took both me and Kelly by surprise. “So why are you here?” Kelly demanded before I could even ask.

“I was sent here by the commission to ensure that you’re both physically and mentally ready to return to the circuit. There are some concerns that you might have lost your edge among the other teams.” Counterhouse explained.

That hit me like a ton of bricks. If the other teams were beginning to question my mental state. I could lose my Super license. It was bad enough that there were still a few drivers that believed me, and Beth shouldn’t be on the circuit. If they could use this last wreck against me, it could end my run for the championship here and now. Not to mention what it would do to Beth’s career and the team. I don’t even want to think about what would happen to MDRI. The fallout would slam everyone.

“I can tell you right now, doctor. Bobbie hasn’t lost her edge. If you doubt that then just bring your harpy ass out to Darlington Knights Road course this afternoon.” Kelly snapped jumping to my defense before I could even say a word. To say that I was pissed was beside the point.

“Very well young lady, I accept your challenge. If Doctor Kettle signs off on your wife, I’ll be more than happy to evaluate her performance on this so-called racetrack. If she can perform up to standards, I’ll sign off on her return to racing. Fair enough?” Doctor Counterhouse proposed.

Once again Kelly was talking before, I could stop her. “Agreed, but only on one condition. YOU have to allow for her using her own car. Not a Formula one racecar. Those are currently on route to Austin.”

The bitch held out her hand. “Acceptable. Do we have a deal?”

Kelly shook her hand and gave her a predatorial grin. “Done.”

About that time the nurse came out and called my name. “Roberta McGuire?”

I stood up and glared at Kelly and Counterhouse. I couldn’t keep the snarl out of my voice as I spoke. “When I get back, we’ll be having a nice long discussion about this deal.”

“Don’t worry Bobbie. I got this. You just get Doc Kettle to sign off.” Kelly smiled up at me brightly.

As much as I wanted to beat the love of my life about the head and shoulders just then I had more pressing matters to attended to. Namely getting my medical clearance for returning to racing. “This ain’t over ladies.”

I spun on my heel and headed for the examination rooms. I gave Doc Kettle a smile as he entered the room. “Good afternoon, Bobbie. Please remove your top and take a seat on the table.”

I did as I was instructed. For the next twenty minutes Doc Kettle poked around my ribs. He hummed-and-hawed as he inspected my ribs and the bruising on the left side of my chest. He sent back for another set of x-rays after handing me a robe to put on. It took another twenty minutes of waiting before the new x-rays came back. After examining the x-rays for tens minutes Doc Kettle finally started to smile.

“Okay, Bobbie. I’ve good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?”

“Dealer’s choice Doc.” I snarked.

“The good news is you can return to racing. Your ribs have healed to the point that I feel comfortable in signing off on your clearance. Now, the bad news is you’re going to have to continue to wrap them for the next month while you race or exercise. The reason for this is simple. To give your ribs a little more support while they finish healing. I know that you don’t want to hear this, but your profession takes a heavy toll on the human body.” I busted out laughing at Kettle’s comment about the wear and tear that driving a racecar takes on the human body. “You have a beautiful laugh Bobbie. It’s nice to hear it again. You so laugh more often.”

“I try Doc. Just this morning Kelly reminded me that I have a lot to live for and to laugh about. Has Doctor Sue updated you on Kelly’s condition?” I figured that the two doctors talked to each other. Especially since they did more than just share an office building. They were married.

“Oh yes. Congratulations by the way, Bobbie. I understand that you girls are expecting twins. I hope that it wasn’t too much of a shock.” Doc Kettle smirked. I could only shake my head as I waited for him to finish paperwork. “I’ll send Racheal in to show you how to wrap your ribs the correct way.”

“Thanks Doc. I really appreciate what you and Doc Sue have done for me and Kelly. By the way what are you going to tell the quack outside in your waiting area?” It must have been my snide remark about Doctor Counterhouse being a quack that got him to laughing.

“Don’t worry Bobbie. I’ll handle Doctor Counterhouse. By the way she is just like her father in many ways.” At my disgusted look Kettle chuckled. “I take it that you have no use for the Counterhouse family?”

“You could say that Doc. It was Counterhouse who suggested the use of those experimental chemo drugs. You know the ones that left me looking more like a girl than a boy.” I snapped.

“Bobbie those drugs saved your life. You have to remember that.” Doc Kettle sighed. “I have been your family doctor since the day you took your first breath. I have been over and over your medical records. If it hadn’t been for those treatments, you would be dead.”

“Damn it, Doc I know that. I just don’t have to like the results. That or the fact that Doctor Counterhouse failed to explain to me and my parents all the possible side effects.” I snarled.

Doctor Kettle just sighed. This was a conversation that we’ve gone over time and again. It always end the same way. With me in a pissy mood and needing to burn off my anger at high speeds. I always ended up in a race after we had this conversation. And I usually didn’t care about who I raced. As usual I just shutdown and glared at Doctor Kettle. “Fine, Bobbie. I’ll drop the subject, again. Wait here for Racheal.”

With that he left the room. Five minutes later Racheal came in and showed how to properly wrap my ribs. She also handed me several rolls of sports tape. She explained that the sport tape was to be used on race days. I thanked her and got dressed. Taking the extra wrap and four rolls of tape I headed back out to the waiting area. I took one look at Counterhouse and snarled. “Doctor, you got two hours to have your ass over at the track.”

“And if I’m not there?” She smirked.

“Then I’ll go to the FIA broad of directors and have you fired.” I grabbed my purse and looked at Kelly. “Let’s go Kelly. I need to get Interfictorem Anguis ready for a run.”

A half hour later Kelly was pulling up to the house. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Go on and head over to the Knights’ track, Kelly. I’ll be there once I have the Viper ready to run.”

“How long do you think that will take you Bobbie?” I could tell that Kelly was worried about me just then.

“Thirty-minutes no more than that love. Don’t worry, Kelly. You’re right about me being able to handle this. After all. This is what I do best. And with the Viper under my control there is no way I can lose.” With that I climbed out of the Jeep and headed for the garage.

I walked through the side door of the garage without a thought. I knew what I had to do this afternoon. With both pride and confidence, I walked over to the solid black 1996 super sports car that was my private car. The Viper was more than just a car to me. In fact, in many ways it was as a mirror of my soul. The GTS Viper’s 8.0 Liter; 487.6 cu in; V10 engine screamed out an uncontrollable need for speed. Just as my soul did when I raced. This car was more than just a street racer. It was a demon straight out of hell that bound for heaven on a supersonic rock.

I spent the next half hour prepping the car for taking on the Darlington Knights’ racetrack. I had gone by the track to check on the progress of the renovation and repairs whenever I was home. In the first month the Knights had cleared the overgrowth and most of the track surface torn up. When I checked in the second time, they were in the process of repaving the raceway. I was only slightly surprised that they were using asphalt. Then I thought about the cost of using concrete to do the same thing.

I had to give it to the guys and gals of the Knights. They were doing everything the right way and doing it within their means. The next time I went by the track they had bleachers setup along the front straightaway for spectators. I went by Slow Jack’s garage the other night and talked with Stephany Stone. She filled me in on the all the work that the clubs had done on the track. She told how the clubs had been able to get so much done.

I was even more surprised to find out that all of the local car clubs had gotten together and pooled their money for the renovations. It was kind of funny when you think about it. Not to mention befitting the total repurposing of an existing resource. I don’t know how many times I went by that old abandon test track. I wasn’t the only one who had dreamed of restoring it just to be able to use it for racing. It was just over 3.5 miles in total length. It is 3 lanes wide with multiple hill climbs and drops, 18 turns, and 4 straightaways the tack was the perfect layout for road racing. Personally, I felt it would make one hell of a Formula One track.

The crazy part of the whole thing was all that fit inside a 2 square mile area just outside the northeastern edge of Darlington. The old owner of the property was an AMC dealership that went under in the 70’s. They said that there was something about cocaine and drug smuggling involved with the closing of the dealership. But those were just rumors, that nobody could ever confirmed. Me, I always believed that it was nothing more than bad luck.

I smiled at the way the local car clubs had come together to build their track. What amazed me the most was the way that the local banks and building contractor were willing to work with the clubs. I found out that once the bank learned that the clubs were building someplace for the street racers to race safely, they jumped at the chance to lend the money. To repay the loans the clubs were charging 50 dollars per car per race. When you have 10 cars per race that is a fast way to make the loan payments. They had street racers from all over North and South Carolina showing up every weekend. Stephany told me that since opening back in August the clubs had been able to repay the first year of the mortgage. Along with half of the construction costs. By the end of September, they had repaid all of the construction costs and were ahead on the mortgage by 2 years.

I was amazed by just how profitable the track had become in such a short time. Then I had my first encounter at the track last weekend. I was floored by the number of racers there. I counted over 200 individual street racers. Each with their 50 bucks wanting to try their hand at Darlington Knights. Those were only the ones from South Carolina. It didn’t even consider the number of racers coming in from North Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, and Georgia that weekend. Stephany told me that in the short time that the track had been open the average number of racers per weekend was close to 400 racers. That the track was holding 5 to 6 races per day. With twenty racers per race each time at the minimum.

I was brought back to the here and now as I reached up and closed the hood on my Viper. I have been making slight modifications to the engine whenever I was home. This was just the latest adjustments to it. I have been able to pull more and more horsepower out of the engine with each adjustment. I also have been working on the transmission some as well. Mainly to gain better control over the car’s performance. As I fired over the engine, I could already tell that the latest modification had given me another 5 to 10 horsepower bring the total up to around 474 hp at 5,200 rpm, with 510 lb?ft of torque at 3,700 rpm at the minimum. To find out the actual numbers I’ll need to place her on a dynamometer. Which I’ll take care of sometime later at the family garage.

As I drove through town heading for the Darlington Knights’ racetrack, I passed more than a few members of the various car clubs. It didn’t take long before those cars started to follow me. I knew that my car was a one of a kind in this area. Then again so was my old Judge. I gave up on being inconspicuous when driving the Viper. Especially as there was no way to keep the rumble of my engine from drawing attention. I just smiled at the knuckle head that pulled up next to me at a traffic light in a Mazda RX-7. When he revved his engine, I almost busted out laughing. I rolled down my window before calling out.

“Darlington Knights. Five laps. For a c-note. You game?”

The young man looked at me like I had just flipped my lid. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea of who you just challenged?”

“Yeah. Some lowlife no name loser in a hopped-up piece of shit nineteen-ninety-five Mazda RX-seven. Someone who thinks that he stands some small chance this side of hell at beating a nineteen-ninety-six GTS Viper with someone who actually knows how drive behind the wheel. Do yourself a favor little boy. Go home and grow up some before challenging me.” I know that I was pushing it, but I didn’t care. I have been in a shitty mood ever since I left the doctor’s office.

“You’re on bitch. You want to race me on the Knights then you just bit off more than you can chew. Because you have no fucking idea who you’re racing. Only let’s make this interesting. I don’t race for anything less than five grand or pick slips. But for you let’s make it a night in the sack and the five grand. You can keep that over-hyped piece of shit Viper.” The smirk on the boy’s face just pissed me off even more.

That was it. “You’re on little boy. Just don’t try to back out of signing over the tittle when you lose. You run and every member of the Knights will hunt your fucking ass down. Understood?”

The guy just laughed. “Bitch, you have seriously lost your mind. Didn’t you see the vanity plate holder? I’m currently the top driver for the Knights. If you think that my boys are going to turn on me, you’re crazier than a shithouse rat with its tail on fire.”

By now I was laughing at this point. The boy truly believed that he thought his car could actually outrun mine. Then he had to go and add insult to injury, the fuck-nut had no clue as to who he just challenged. I think my laughing upset the boy even further. The reason I believe this is he gunned his engine and floored it when the light turned green. Me I just took my time heading for the track. I knew he would be there waiting for me to arrive in my own good time. I also figured that he need time to find out who he just challenged. That and to give him a chance to cool his jets. If he doesn’t, he could very well end up hurt or dead.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled in the pit area of the racetrack. As I climbed out of my car, I was greeted by more than half of the Darlington Knights and most of the Blue Devils. Stephany was the first one to walk up to me.

“Welcome home, Bobbie.” She warped me in a warm hug and stepped back. “So, what brings you out here on a day off?”

“Two reason Steph. First is to prove to a fucking FIA doctor that I still have what it takes to run with the big boys. It seems that a few of them are questioning my ability to drive a Formula one car.” I snarled out.

Stephany just giggled. “And the other reason?”

I pointed over her shoulder at the monkey-nut with the RX-7. “Teach that dipshit a lesson in manners. That and to know when to back off before getting oneself into deep. Like he just did with me.”

Stephany turned and looked to where I was pointing. She gave a heavy put-upon sigh. “Fuck! Just fucking perfect! Bobbie please go easy with Rick. I know that he needs a lesson in humility, but he doesn’t deserve being destroyed. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing that, but the club still needs his car. We got a race coming up this weekend with the Forest Heights Archers. If you take his car we’re screwed.”

“I won’t take his car, but I will be taking his money. The boy does have the five-g’s for the race?” I asked her.

“Don’t worry the bet will be covered. Even if it has to come out of club funds. The Knights and Devils always keep our word.” Stephany promised.

I thought about what Stephany just told me. Looking over at the gathered Darlington Knights I noticed that most of them were new members. “Stephany, answer a question for me. Where did all the new Knights come from?”

“Do you remember the Ridge Runners?” I nodded my head yes. “Well, they challenged the Knights to a club elimination race and lost. With Sam Hurley being the current club president, he gave the Ridge Runners a choice. They join the Knights or disband completely. They joined the Knights.”

“That explains why none of them have tripped to the fact that I’m a professional racer or the current undefeated rat racer in Darlington county.” I smirked as Stephany giggled nodding her head. “How much have you placed on me to win this little race?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll have enough to finish the Judge in style.” Stephany smiled as she talked about my old car. “We just got her back from her final sand blasting. The engine has been completely rebuilt to factory specs. The body has been completely realigned. She just needs painting now.”

“What color did you decided to go with?” I really want to know.

“I went with your suggestion of Neon Sapphire Blue. I’ve had to wait on ordering the paint because it’s such a specialty color paint.” Stephany smiled as she explained her plans for my old car. We were interrupted by the monkey nut who just had to prove how rude he could get.

“Yo Stephany why you talking to the want-be? If you want to learn how to drive a street racer need to be talking with one of us.” This Rick guy yelled. Only to get a glare out of Stephany and me both.

“Okay that’s fucking it!” Stephany turned to me and snarled. “Drive that fucking asshole into the god damned pavement Bobbie. Screw the rest of the club. He just had to go and push his luck with me.”

I just nodded my head and held out my hand. “Done.”

Stephany took my hand shook it. “Done.”

I climbed back in my car. “Let’s race fuck stick.”

I didn’t wait for him to return to his car. I just pulled out onto the track and waited for him to show. It took him five minutes to get his act together and pull in next to me. While I waited for him, I reached over and hit the play button on my iPod. When my race music starts to play it fuels my already growing need to race. I watched as the Christmas tree started the count down. When the lights turned green, I popped the clutch and floored the accelerator. I worked the gears as I headed for the first turn it the pounding beat of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck.

Turn 1 was an uphill right hander with a nasty inside curb. I drifted my way through the turn by shifting up through the gears to 5th gear. Coming of the slopping righthander I hit turn 2 and down shift to 3rd gear taking the sharp downhill turn at just over 70 mph. I kept my speed up as I enter the left-handed turn 3. Coming out of the turn I smile. I upshift into 4th gear as I hit the shortest straightaway heading for turn 4. I ever let up on the gas as I enter the downhill slopping turn 4. I know that it’s a risk as I haven’t driven this course a whole lot. The truth is I have only made one other run on this track since it was opened. And that one time I was out here all on my own. Stephany had worked out so that I could have a solo run with no one knowing about it. Even then I hadn’t really pushed my Viper or myself.

This time I wasn’t holding back. I came out of turn 4 on powered my up hill toward and through winding turn 5. As I came out of turn 5 and entered the hairpin of turn 6, I saw that dumbass spin out of control behind me. I could tell that he was pushing the performance edge of his car trying to keep up with me. I know that it was fair, but the fuck head had it coming. I knew that he would recover as the spin was that hard, but he wasn’t going to catchup to me anytime soon.

I opened up my lead with each turn and straightaway. I hit turn 7 and drifted my way through the turn as if on glass or ice. When I came out of the turn, I dropped the harmer as I hit the back straightaway. I worked my way through the gears already to 6th gear before reaching the end of the straightaway and turn 8. I dropped down to 4th gear and roared around the turn hugging the inside curb. I know that I was pushing things but didn’t really care. For the first time in weeks I started to feel alive once more. The faster I pushed the Viper the more I needed to push myself.

Exiting turn 8 going into turns 9 and 10, I could feel the ragged edge of insanity creeping up on me. Not that I cared anymore. All cared about anymore was the feeling that racing gave. I know that I have a lot to live for now, but I for some reason I only feel alive when I’m behind the wheel of a racer. I think I know why the old-time racers say that speed is in the blood. Once it is in your blood there is no getting rid of it. No matter what you do or try, you’ll always have the need for speed.

I exited turn 10 onto the second shortest straightaway and knew that I had won the race. The was no way I was going to back down now. I hit the righthand hairpin turn that is turn 11 and head up and over the straightaway between 11 and 12. As I crest the top of the hill, I feel my Viper raise into the air. I knew that I was truly pushing the limits of my car now. This little hop brought a smile to my face. Turn 13 was long left hander that I took in 4th gear. It was turn 14 at the end of that wide turn that was the bitch. While not a full-on hairpin it was a real head snapper if you weren’t paying attention that winded its way into turn 15. Anywhere long those two turns if you let your attention laps you were in the grass or dead.

I powered out of turn 15 onto the front straightaway. It was the longest of the straightaways it was also the sneakiest of them all. While it looked all nice straight and level it was anything but. The whole straightaway had a downhill slope of 3 degrees. That slope could cause a driver to overcompensate going into turn 1. I’ve already heard stories about more than one driver plowing in on that turn. I eased up on the gas and hit the brakes as I entered turn 1 for my second lap around the track. I knew that I had won the race with that fuck-nut but that was no longer a concern. I was out here to prove that I still had what it took to drive with the big boys.

Four more laps later I pulled into the pit area. As I shut down my engine I was smiling. I knew that I had set a track speed record. Then again, I shouldn’t be too proud for what I did here. I mean this wasn’t a sanctioned track for any of the major motorsports. Not that I cared about setting speed records anymore. For some reason I just wanted to get out there and race.

As I climbed out of my car, I had a mile-wide smile on my face. Stephany just laughed at the look I was wearing. She turned to the Rick kid and held out her hand. “Pay up and hand over your pink slip, Rick.”

“I want a rematch. I didn’t take the bitch seriously. Give me another shot at her and I’ll win.” He snapped. Only to have half the Knights and all of the Devils turn on him. They were getting ready to put a sever beat down on him. If it hadn’t been for Sam stepping in and calling them all down.

“Knock it off! All of you!” He turned to Rick snarling. “Cash and title, now. Or we take it out of your ass, Rick. Your choice.”

The guy looked around at the rest of the senior members for the Darlington Knights. “Why you backing this bitch up Sam? Normally you would be all over some cheating cunt. Why not her?”

Sam reared back and punched the boy in the stomach. Sam stood over the boy snarling. “Because you stupid fucking prick that young lady is Bobbie McGuire. I know for a fact that she didn’t cheat. She never cheats. She is just that damned good. You never stood a fucking chance in hell against her. If I had known that you were going to be racing her, I would have stopped it before you even pulled up to the starting line. Now you have lost a sixty-nine-thousand-dollar club car, and another five-g’s in cash. You’re fucking lucky that I don’t just let the rest of the club beat your ass to a bloody pulp. Do you have any idea of how bad you fucked up?!”

The kid looked up at Sam with tears in his eyes. “I won’t do it again boss.”

Sam just shock his head and looked over at Specs and Jimbo. “Boys take this loser some place and strip him of his jacket. He is out of the club.”

“Wait you can’t throw me out. What about the race this weekend? You still need me.” Rick pleaded as the two club members grabbed him by the arms to drag him away. “I can use my old car and still win.”

I felt that I should step in on the kid’s behalf. After all he had no idea of who he was challenging at the red light. “Keep the car Sam. Just get me my five-g’s and we be square. It’s not his fault that he had no idea who I was. Hell, half this mess was my fault.”

“Wrong Bobbie. This is Rick’s fourth screwup that has led to the club having to cover his ass. He keeps challenging strangers to races braking one of our new by-laws. All races and challenges take place here at the track. Nowhere else, period. Slow Jake was the one to put that by-law in place.” Sam told me with a smile on his face.

“Just get me the money Sam. The boy learned his lesson. Or he should have.” I said glaring at Rick. “If he pulls something like this again. Then you can throw his ass to the wolves. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me.” Sam said after a few second with a smile. Looking around he waved for one of the senior Knights that I knew only by reputation. “J.J. pay the lady her money. And make sure that Ricky boy repays the club.”

“Sure thing, boss.” J.J. walked over to me counting out the five-thousand dollars owed to me. Not that I needed the money, but Rick needed to be taught a lesson. The best way to do that was to let the Darlington Knights Car Club members handle the problem. I took the money and pocketed it without saying a word. “We square Mrs. McGuire?”

“We’re square, and the name is Bobbie, J.J. Understand?” I said with a grin.

“Load and clear, Bobbie.” He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Thanks for beating the shit out of the arrogant little fuck.”

I just grinned. “No problem. Just get his ass under control. He keeps pushing his luck someone is going to put a real beating on him. One that lands his ass in the hospital or the morgue.”

“I hear you, Bobbie. We’ll get him straightened out or he’ll be gone. Sam and the rest of the club’s officers are getting really tired of covering for the little shit. If he wasn’t so damned hot behind the wheel, we won’t even be thinking about giving him a second chance after the kind of loss he had today. By the way thanks for letting us keep the car.” I could tell that J.J. was sincere.

“Forget about it, J.J. besides, I have no need for a second sports car. What I need is a decent sedan. Something I can use as a real family car. The Gladiator is fine as a farm truck. But for going out to dinner or something like that I need something a little more practical.” I pointed out then grinned. “Maybe, I’ll challenge Stephany to a race for my old Judge.”

“OH, HELL NO! You stay the fuck away from MY Judge, Roberta McGuire.” Stephany screamed at me. At the sly look I gave her Stephany stuck her tongue out giving me the time-honored raspberry before turning to stick her nose in the air. “Be that way! You, big old meanie! I’ll get you for that, Bobbie.”

I wasn’t the only one that chuckled at her antics. I was laughing so hard that I missed the two people walking up behind me. “I must say, Mrs. McGuire that was some performance you put on. Do you normally go about challenging people to deadly races?”

I turned slowly to give Doctor Counterhouse a steady glare of contempt. “No Doctor I do not make it a habit of challenging every Tom, Dick, and Harry to a race. I go out of my way to make it a habit to avoid racing morons.”

“I see.” Counterhouse sniffed. “Then why did you race the young man today?”

“Simple. He was stupid enough to push matters with me. If he had just driven off, I would have been more than happy to go about my business. It’s not like he presented any real challenge after all. Please remember something Doctor. I may have grown up racing on these streets and roads, but they no longer hold any mystery or challenge for me. This area is my home. Only this track and the Darlington Raceway hold any challenges for me now.” I smirked at the sideways glances she was giving me. As if she didn’t know what to do with me. “After all I am professional Formula one driver. It wouldn’t be right for me to be racing against a bunch of rankles amateurs.”

For the first time Doctor Counterhouse cracked a real smile. “I see that the fears of the other teams are unfounded. At least as far as your skills at driving a racecar go. I wonder though. Can you keep your determination and drive at this level for the rest of the season?”

I took more than my normal level of self-control to keep from taking the bitch’s head off then and there. Unfortunately for her Stephany, Sam, and the club members didn’t have that problem. More than a few of them were reaching for buck knives, heavy combination wrenches, and in one case a tire iron. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again. Never piss off a southern redneck. Or in this case a pack of diehard street racers.

“We don’t know who you are bitch and we don’t care. But you don’t come around here insulting our Bobbie. If I was you, I would apologize then run like the hounds of hell were hot on your heels.” Stephany snarled.

“Fuck that shit Steph. We’re going to beat the fuck out of her and get it over with. We can bury her ass out behind the old peach orchard.” Sam growled.

I watched as Counterhouse’s face turned white in fear at the realization that she had truly screwed up. Sighing I came to her rescue. “Back off guys. She’s only doing her job.”

“Why’s she even here Bobbie?” Sam asked.

“She is here to evaluate me for the FIA commission.” I turned back to face Counterhouse. “To answer your question, Doctor. Yes, I can keep up this level of drive and commitment. Only one thing will stop me. Death.”

I giggled at the look of pure shock on her face. To hear someone as young as me to speak so casually about death must have set the poor woman on edge. “Doctor let me be blunt. I have no desire for my death. I have far too much to live for now. I just understand the cold hard fact that every time I get out there on the racetrack, I put my life on the line. Just as every other driver does. This is a simple fact. We take precautions to limit that threat but it always there. Always riding on our shoulders. There in every turn, each straightaway, hounding our every move. This is something I’ve understood for some time. Ever since the day that I first took one of my parents’ designs for a test run around Darlington Raceway.”

“Bobbie is only telling the truth here Doctor. We all do our best to outrun the Devil’s Bounty Hunter. Sooner or later though he collects his due payment one way or another.” Kelly told her bluntly. “Now are you satisfied?”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what would you do, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. What do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 31
Circuit of The Americas, Sunday, Race day, Austin Texas 0900

My habit of staring out at the racetrack and studying it before every race has become something of a good luck ritual. One that my pit crew makes sure that I have time for regardless of what is going on. But even this ritual wasn’t calming my nerves this day. Oh, it was not the upcoming race that had my nerves in knots. That will be nothing today. I can see the track’s layout in my mind easily enough. Between the morning runs and videos I know all twenty turns, and six straightaways as if I grew up on them. No, it’s not the race or the track that has me scared shitless today. It is the little ceremony that is to take place in one hour from now.

I still cannot believe that the FIA was willing to let us hold our marriage before the race in the infield of the COTA. Personally, this was not my FUCKING idea. I wanted to use the Union Hall for one of the local VFW’s. Only I got overruled by first my parents, and then Mercedes-Benz, our sponsors. Then there is the need for damned Lutheran preacher. I mean come on here people. Who cares who pronounces us man and wife? To me it is nothing more than stupid damned politics. Why can these people just leave me and Kelly alone to live our lives our way. I know that Kelly and I have been married for a few months now but that was more like an elopement with a JOP. I just don’t understand the need for this over blown ceremony. I just know that this is something that Kelly wants. To be honest I was happy with our marriage in front of the Justice of the Peace.

Issy has been bouncing around the two of us for the last five days. I swear that woman must have clones to be in all of the places she needs to be at the same time. I’m just happy that she scrapped the dress that I was supposed to wear for the wedding. The all white racing leathers and fire suite she got to replace them with are more my style. I still haven’t figured out how Issy, and the Mercedes people got the FIA to sign off on the special colors for today’s race. This is one car that I really need to be careful with. With its all white paint job will show every scarp, bump, and ding. Anyone will be able to see those mistakes from a mile away.

“Are you thinking about the race or the wedding ceremony?” I had to chuckled at dad’s question. “Because if you’re thinking of the ditching the wedding, you’re too late kiddo. I had Hailee pull the distributer cap on your rental.”

“That’s just mean dad.” I chuckled as I turned to face him. Like me and the rest of the team my father was wearing a special fire suite for today’s festivities and race. Unlike my all white leathers his and the teams’, were black with white trim. “Looks like you’re ready for the ceremony.”

“You should see your mother and sister.” He chuckled. “You’d think that they have never been in a wedding party before.”

“Yeah, I can see that. By the way have you seen that crazy woman Issy?” I asked him with a smile.

“The last time I saw Issy, she was tearing some poor caterer a new ass. I swear that woman is an unholy terror when she doesn’t get her way. I still don’t see what the problem is with having pigs-in-a-blanket, boiled shrimp, and buffalo-wings as appetizers.” I busted out laughing at dad’s sneaky plan. He had to be the person to change the menu for the wedding reception.

I know that I hadn’t and it sure wasn’t Kelly. Not that I minded. Afterall the changes to the menu were all the ones that I had originally suggested. But Issy fast talked Kelly into one of those fancy high-end restaurant menus. It was something that you would see at the Golden Lamb or Stéphane’s. Issy just couldn’t understand that I was a simple backwoods country girl that got lucky. To me appetizers are a 6 pack of ice-cold beer and a bowl of nachos cover with refried beans, jalapeno peppers, and melted cheese.

“Dad you do know that if Issy ever finds out that you were the one to change the appetizers, she’ll happily gut your ass.” I told him with a smile.

He busted out laughing as he nodded his head. “Why do you think I’m over here double checking the cars? I may be crazy but I’m not stupid. I know that your mother was ready to skin somebody alive when she saw the boiled shrimp, and buffalo-wings. I took off before she found out about the pigs-in-a-blanket. My only saving grace right now is she still needs me to take care of the cars for the race. What happens after the race is another story.”

I just had to laugh at the thought of my mom beating the shit of dad for what he did. Not that I blame him. I get my taste in food from him. Even when I was at my sickest, he always found a way to get me to eat something. It didn’t matter how bad I felt, he was able to find something that I could keep down. I got my love for fully loaded nachos from the time dad smuggled them into the kids ward of USMCH during my second round of chemo. I was only able to eat a few bites, but the rest of the kids really enjoyed them.

“Do me a favor dad. Never change.” I smirked.

My dad just chuckled before pulling me into a hug. “Don’t worry about that Speedy. But I do have a piece of advice about today for you. I know that you kids have been married for a few months, but today is special. Especially for Kelly and her parents.”

“Trust me dad. I know how especial today is for her.” I couldn’t figure out where dad was going with this conversation.

“I doubt that you do, Bobbie. There are certain days, events, and people that standout in the lives of most young ladies. There’s their first kiss. Their first love. Their first romantic date. None of those though hold a candle to their wedding day. It is the one day that every young woman gets to feel like a princess. Today is all about Kelly in her mind.” The look that dad was giving me said more than words. “Get where I’m coming from?”

“Yah dad I think do. I never really thought about what this day meant for her. I guess that I still have more than a few masculine traits left in me.” I was looking down at my body as I answered him. I may look like a beautiful woman in her early twenty’s but I’m still a male where it counts. Mostly in the way that I think about things.

“One other thing Bobbie. When you stand up there in front of everybody and God remember one very important thing. You’re giving your word to that young woman to love, honor, and hold above all others. Never forget that.” The stern glare that dad was giving me let me know that he was dead serious about what he was telling me. Then again when it came to your word of honor, he was a real hard ass about keeping it. That was something he had drilled into my head from the time that I was old enough to walk.

“I’ll remember dad.” I answered with a grin. “Of all my loves Kelly stands above them all. And yes, that includes racing.”

“Oh really?” Dad was quick to question. “What would you do if you couldn’t race anymore? Would you just give up on your dreams for her?”

This time I sighed before answering. “Dad, if Kelly were to even hint to me about walking away from racing today. I would do so with no questions asked or problems. Racing has never been the be all and end all for me. Sure, I have always dreamed of being a racecar driver, but I’ve also known that I couldn’t race for forever. Ever sense I was first diagnosed with Leukemia I knew that I was living on borrowed time.”

I turned and looked over to where the all-white tent was set up. The place that I would be getting married today. “When I first found out that Kelly was pregnant, I was over the moon dad. One of my greatest dreams had been granted. Dad I’ve never told anyone this other than Doc Sharron. I’ve always been so afraid that the chemo treatments left me sterile. I never dreamed of becoming a father. Then last week she tells me that she is expecting twins. I thought it was a joke at first. So, trust me dad. If I can no longer race it will be no big deal. I’ll just find something else to do. What that is I don’t know, but I’ll take care of my family.”

“It’s good to see that you still have your head on straight son.” That was the first time that dad had called me son in months. I had to fight to stop the tears from coming. “I know that I haven’t said it enough, but your mom and me are proud of you. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you never gave up. You’ve always had a certain stubbornness about you that wouldn’t let you just give up. Something that we’ve always been proud of.”

Dad had stepped up next to me and was looking out at the track. “Out there you’re on equal footing with the other drivers. Sure, there are a few of them that don’t like you, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t let their bullshit get to you. You go out there and give it your all. Every time all the time. Take that same attitude into your marriage son. You do that, and you’ll be just fine. Remember that marriage is a two-way street. It’s always about compromise. Kelly’s opinion matters just as much as yours does.”

“I understand that dad. What I don’t understand is why’re you tell me this now? I mean we’ve been married for a few months now.” I really didn’t understand why dad was dropping all of this on me now.

“Because today you start the greatest race of your life. Not out there on that track.” Dad was saying as he turned and pointed over at the tent. “The starting line is over there in that tent. The race of married lesbian couple.”

I finally got what dad was telling me. Sure, I’ve been married to Kelly for a few months now. But today we would be announcing our marriage to the world. And to the rest of the world I was a young woman in love with another woman. I wasn’t a man entering into a marriage with the woman he loved. We had already gotten flack about our relationship in a few of the countries we had visited. Kelly and I had learned the hard way that bigotry wasn’t solely a problem in the United States.

“Gotcha dad. I just wish that I didn’t have to worry about what other people think. I mean why should who I love, sleep with, and want to spend the rest of my life with be such a big fucking deal? We’re not hurting them.” I know that I’m sounding like a whiny little bitch just then, but I do have a point. At least I think so.

“I know baby girl, but that is the way of the world. As much as I hate to say this ignorance and intolerance of those that are deferent will always be a part of humanity.” Dad gave me I tight hug. “As much as I wish it was deferent Bobbie, it isn’t something that I can fix with a torque wrench or hammer. Trust me kiddo, I’ve tried.”

The look on dad’s face made me chuckle. I could tell that he was remembering something from his past. At time where he used his fists instead of his words to solve a problem. I’ve always known that dad had a mean temper that could get away from him at times. It usually only happened when it came to one of us kids. The last time that it happened was in Germany. I still don’t know what he said to those old bats, but they’ve stayed out of mine and Kelly’s lives ever since. They even backed off on their meddling when it came to the wedding plans. I know that mom and Issy were happy with that development.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until dad took his thumb and wiped the tears from my cheek. “Come on Speedy. Time for you to get married.”

I looked down at the pocket watch that dad held in his hand. He has had that watch for as long as any of us kids can remember. He doesn’t carry it often. I know that this is the only time he’s had it with him at one of the races. “Tell me something dad. Where on earth did you get that pocket watch? I know that none of us kids gave it to you. You’ve also had it for as long as I can remember. Why do you have with you today?”

“This pocket watch was a gift from your grandfather on my wedding. It has been in the McGuire family for seven generations.” Dad slowly placed the watch into my hands and wrapped my fingers around the watch. “Today I pass it on to you. Just as you will pass it onto your oldest son on their wedding day when that day comes.”

“Um… dad just how old is this watch?” I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. I mean this watch had to be more than a hundred years old.

“This watch was given to our great, great, great, great grandfather on his wedding day by his bride in eighteen-seventy-five.” Dad chuckled. “You know the funny part about this watch? This watch has lost time only once. The day that your great grandfather jumped into Normandy during WW two. Believe it or not that five minutes of lost time saved his entire company.”

“What happened?” This was a story I have never heard before. I know that grandpa was a member of the 82nd Airborne during the Second World War. And that he had seen action in Sicily, Italy, and France before being sent home with his third Purple Heart.

Dad chuckled. “Will you see it all started back in England just before D-day landings. The pilot for his transport had set his watch off of this one here. The main reason why is your great grandfather’s watch this watch was known as being one of the most reliable time pieces in the battalion. Well, it seems that your great grandfather forgot to whine the watch that morning. It was running five minutes behind. This one mistake threw the timetable for the whole operation off by five minutes for his battalion. That five minutes saved the lives of all those men because by the time they reached their drop zones the German anti-aircraft guns were all pointed in the wrong direction. Those twenty-eight aircraft cleared their drop zones without one scratch on them, and all of their troops safely out the door. All because they took off five minutes late. Your great grandfather made the jump into Normandy on a wing and a prayer. Right along with his platoon. He was not much older than you are now. You know something, he would be laughing his ass right now.”

“Why do you say that, dad?” I was really curious about my great granddad.

“He was never one to go with the flow. That man was never one to tolerate the stupidity of ignorant fuck nuts. I won’t even go into what your great grandmother thought about people like that.” Dad chuckled. “I remember this one time where she put two rounds of salt rock into the ass of old man Grant. Just because he called your aunt Stephany a loose woman.”

“I guess the famous McGuire temper truly does run in the family.” I chuckled as dad pated me on the head. “I come by my temper honestly.”

“That you do kiddo. Just remember to temper your anger with compassion.” I took dad’s words of advice to heart most of the time. But today I felt that he was giving me life lessons that he had learned over the last twenty-eight years of being married to my mom. The more that I thought about it, he was giving me the hard-learned lessons of his life. “One other thing before we head over Roberta. You may appear for all the world to see my daughter, but underneath all that finery still beats the heart of my son. A son that has done nothing but bring me a great deal of pride. Never forget that.”

“I won’t forget dad. I promise.” I gave him one more quick squeeze. Slipping the pocket watch inside my leathers I pull him towards the tent. “Time to get married one more time. Only this time everything is for Kelly.”

“Now you’re starting to think like a smart husband.” Dad snarked as we walked across the infield of the COA.

As we entered the area that was set off to one side for the groom and groom’s men, I was only slightly surprised to see the four biggest guys on my pit crew. They were all wearing racing leathers that matched dad’s all black ones. If you didn’t know any better, you would swear that they were all wearing tuxedos. I could tell by their smiles that they were all having a great laugh at my expense. I could already hear the jokes that were coming my way once this was all over.

I decided to let them get it out of their systems. “Okay, guys. Let me have it. Get it over with now. While we’re alone.”

“Nothing going on Bobbie. Trust me on this. We’re just happy that you and Kelly are happy that you’re both happy.” Danny Hailee told me with a smile. “Now, go out there and make that girl one happy bride.”

“Yah, we’ve been waiting for this day for the last few months. None of us were very happy when you two went and eloped. But we understand your reasonings for doing that.” William Hackney smirked as he made a swollen belly gesture with his hands. “What we all want to know is why Kelly is showing the way that she is?”

Dad cleared his voice with a cough. “Let’s just say that Bobbie got more than she bargained for boys. Kelly is pregnant with twins.”

When the guys heard this, they surrounded me patting me on the back and congratulating me. I could tell that they were all happy for me and Kelly. Then again, these guys had all seen me at my worse during my sickness. They’ve also been there for me during my greatest triumphs on the tracks. I just couldn’t hold a grudge against the guys if they wanted to give me shit over the wedding now.

“Okay you clowns time to get this show on the road.” I said as I looked over at the gathered guests in the tent. “I doubt that the commission or Kelly will put up with us delaying the proceedings.” The guys just chuckled and followed out of our tent.

As I entered the tent that was being used for the ceremony, I saw that almost every seat was filled. I know that when we sat down to fill out our wedding invitations that Kelly and I had originally planned for no more than fifty people. Before Germany that number was over three hundred. After Germany it was back down to one-twenty-five, thank God. I looked around at the guests and smiled. Almost all of the Darlington Knights and all of the Blue Devils were there wearing their club jackets. I was only slightly surprised at seeing my little brother Joey wearing one of the Blue Devil jackets. I shouldn’t be though. I mean he has been spending a lot of time with Stephany Stone and her club lately. They weren’t a bad bunch of kids really.

I know that none of them have been racing on the streets. The funny part about the car clubs in Darlington County they have all given up street racing. Ever sense the Knights got their track open the number of wrecks or crime involving street racers has drop by over eighty percent. I can’t say the same for the rest of the state, but Darlington County has pretty much cleaned up their act when it comes to illegal street racing.

Dad walked past me and joined mom in the front row, groom’s side. As I took my place in front of the makeshift altar, I spotted Kelly’s mom. Like my own mother she was dressed to the nines. Both women were wearing the same dress. To be honest here, they both looked like they had just stepped off the runway at one of those fashion shows in New York.

My attention was drawn to the rear of the tent when the opening notes of ZZ Top’s “Legs”. To say that Kelly had my undivided attention would be an understatement. I know that it is supposed to be a wedding dress, but it has to be the only white dress that Morticia Addams would or should I say wear. Even though her ‘baby bump’ is really showing now, she still looks hot in that damned dress. Danny must have felt the same way.

“Damn! It’s good thing you two are married Bobbie. Because if you weren’t, I would be doing my best to haul her before the JOP.” He whispered. I heard a grunt come from him and put two and two together. William must have either elbowed or punched him in the ribs for his comment.

“Knock it off you two. This is Bobbie and Kelly’s day to shine.” Greg hissed.

I wanted to turn around and thank him, but I was a little busy just then. Namely trying to remember how to breath. Kelly had stolen my ability to think straight. I have always known that she was a beautiful but today she went far beyond her normal standard. If anything, today my wife was angel gracing us poor mortals with her very presence. When Kelly and her father stopped at the end of the aisle, I knew what dad had been talking about over in the pits. Today was all about her and her dreams.

“Who gives this woman?” I was brought out of my thoughts by the Pastor’s question. And Kelly’s dad’s answer.

“I do.” When Mr. Ringwald placed Kelly’s hand in mine, he gave me a glare. “Remember one thing Roberta. I got a shovel, lantern, and access to two-hundred acres of uncut forest.”

I got the hint. I didn’t need a building to fall on top of me. If I ever hurt Kelly or the babies, he would burry my ass on my own farm. I just nodded my head and turned to face the Pastor. I just knew that the man was going to give us a long-winded sermon about what it meant to be married.

“Dearly beloved, and friends we are gathered here today to bear witness to the joining of Roberta McGuire and Kelly Ringwald in holy matrimony. But what is marriage? It is not just the joining of two people who love each other. It is a commitment of two souls in the bonds of that love. It is a partnership that brings about new life. A partnership in both sickness and in health. For rich and poor. Marriage is a partnership that lasts through the good and bad times. It is tested by the many trials of a life. It is strengthened by those trials and tribulations. Marriage is like the finest of steels. The hot the fire the stronger the steel. Yet those same fires can destroy the steel. Just as mistrust, deception, and disloyalty can destroy any marriage over time. It is only by the grace of a loving and forgiving god that a marriage last over time.” The more that the Pastor preached the more that I wanted to pop him one. Then again, I have never been one for the churchy types. I know that I lost my faith in an all-powerful and merciful god the day I was diagnosed with childhood leukemia.

When he finished his little sermon, he turned to Kelly. “Kelly Ann Ringwald do you take Roberta Lee McGuire to be your lawfully wedded wife. Through all the trials life shall past in your path?”

Kelly smiled with the first glint of tears in her eyes. “I do.”

Then the popups ass turned to me. “Roberta Lee McGuire do you take Kelly Ann Ringwald to be your lawfully wedded wife. Through all the trials and tribulations that life shall place in your path?”

I couldn’t help myself. I knew that I was going to pay for this, but what the hell. “Can I think about it?”

As the gathered guests started to chuckle Kelly turned ten shades of red. I won’t even go into the look that crossed my parents’ faces or her parents. Dad just stood up. “I told you that it is already too late to run kiddo. Now say I do before I cut your ass.”

“Damn. Can’t anyone around here take a joke anymore?” I quipped as I shrugged my shoulders. I turned to face the Pastor. “Yes, I take Kelly as my wife. With all my heart and soul.”

The Pastor had the good graces to interrupt Kelly before she could say something smart assed. Or anybody else could along those lines. “I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss your bride. Ladies and gentlemen, I give Roberta and Kelly McGuire.”

As I leaned into give Kelly as kiss she snarled. “You’ll pay for that crack.”

“I know I will. But it’ll have to wait until after the race, love.” I told her just before giving her a kiss. We marched back down the aisle to the sounds of ZZ Top only this time the song was Gimme all your lovin. We headed straight for pit road from the tent. We knew that I had only twenty minutes to finish getting ready for the race. I would need that twenty minutes to get into the right headspace if I wanted to stand a chance at winning.

“Tell me something Bobbie. Will you be ready to get out there and drive? I want an honest answer love.” Kelly asked of me as we stepped up into the car hauler. I knew what she wanted to hear and what she didn’t. “Is your head going to be on straight out there? Are you sure that you’re not pushing things?” She asked as she ran her hands over my ribs.

“I’ll be fine Kel. I just need a few minutes to get into the right headspace. You know how I get at times. Right now. I just need a few minutes for myself.” I know that she’s worried about today’s race. Hell, I don’t blame. This’ll be the first time that I’ve ever raced while injured. I pulled her hands away from my taped-up ribs. “AS far as my ribs go, don’t worry. I got them taped-up nice and tight. Just the way Doc Kettle showed me. Now, go get changed and meet mom on top of the box.”

Kelly just smiled gave me a hug and headed off to change in the team trailer. I pulled out my iPod and put in my earbuds hitting play. I sit down on the floor and let my mind just fall away to the sounds of Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping beauty. Doc Sharron suggested the changeover a couple of weeks ago to classic musical scores for my meditations before each race. I find that the new music is far more relaxing. I know that I’ve been pushing myself out there on the tracks, but other than when I’m in Kelly’s arms, it is one of the few places that I truly feel alive anymore.

The knock on the trailer door brought me back to earth. The knock was followed by my mom calling out to me. “Bobbie it’s time.”

“Coming mom.” I stand up and head for the car grabbing my helmet along the way. I don’t bother with taking out my earbuds. I just slip my iPod into my leathers and zip up them up. Even as I stepped out the trailer, I could tell that mom was antsy. “Don’t worry mom I’m good to go.”

“That is not what I’m worried about Bobbie.” Mom snapped.

“Okay mom what’s got you on edge?” I knew she wouldn’t come right and tell me unless I forced the issue.

“It concerns the guys over on the NASCAR team, honey.” Mom looked over at where Slow Jack and the Darlington Knights were standing. “You know that they got a late start in their season, right?”

“Yeh, what about it? They not preforming up to standard?” I asked her.

“The big boys over at Mercedes are wondering if it might not be better for either you or your sister to move over to their team. With one of them coming over to this team. As it stands right now, they’re looking at you to make the move.” I could tell by mom’s look and tone of voice; she wasn’t too happy with this change of events. I also had a good idea of why the big boys were wanting to make the changes. “You need to win this race and the next three to stay in Formula One, Bobbie. If you lose the driver’s championship race, they’ll move you to the NASCAR teams.”

“Well just fuck me sideways. After all I’ve done for those assholes.” I bitched as we walked towards the cars. “Can to tell me why they’re pushing so hard for me to make the move?”

“They believe that it’ll be easier for you and Kelly in NASCAR. They know that you can out drive your sister. That’s not the driving point behind their push for splitting up you girls.” I could tell that mom wasn’t happy about our sponsors decision or their reason. “They feel that they only need one winning driver on team. If that means splitting, you girls up that’s what they’ll do. Whether we like it or not. Before you ask yes, they can do it. It’s in our contract. And there isn’t a damned thing we can do about it.”

That’s when I started to chuckle. “Mom, if they want to put me or Beth behind the wheel of a Stock car then fine. It’ll just be a change of seats for us. It doesn’t matter to me what I drive so long as I can race. I’m pretty sure that Beth will tell you the same thing.”

“That is beside the point, Roberta.” Mom snapped.

“Then what is the point mom? If the sponsors want to shift the teams around it’s their right. Especially if they want a pair of winning teams. They sign the checks after all. If we have to split up the team to make them happy, I say what the hell. Let them. I’ll just drive my ass off in a new sport. Just like I’m going to do today.” I grinned.

I just walked off as mom stood there with a grin on her face. It was the same one she wore on the day of my impromptu race she rode along on. I knew then and there she was going to turn a blind eye to my tactics from here on out. Even if it meant cut Beth off on the track. She no longer cared about what I did on the track so long as it was legal.

Beth stopped me as I neared the cars. “Mom give you the fucked-up news yet?”

“She just did. Look Beth, the way I see it we got one of two choices. Number one, we let them make the choice as to who makes the move. Personally, I could give a shit either way. Choice number two, we let our standings in the drivers’ championship decide who gets shuffled. Now, in my humble opinion I say that we go with number two.” I smirked and went for the kill. I knew what Beth was up to the second she stopped me. “But I know that you’d rather let the brass decide. I mean you’re only fourteen points ahead of me in the standings. I can easily make that up today.”

“Oh, it’s like that little sister. You’re on. And may the best driver win.” Beth huffed as she held out her hand.

I shook her hand smiling. “Done. And don’t go crying to mom when you lose.”

“I won’t be the one crying to mom and dad.” Beth snapped and stormed off.

As I watched her stomp off, I giggled. I had her and she didn’t know it yet. I may be tenth on the starting grid, but I’ve come from further back in the flied before to win. I walked over to my car and handed Kelly my helmet. I quickly climbed into the cockpit and began to strap in. After I put my gloves on Kelly leaned in giving me a good luck kiss before handing my helmet.

Before I could put my helmet on Kelly smiled. “Good luck love be careful, and win. You got three-hundred-and-nine kilometers and fifty-six laps to overtake first place and two hours to get the job done. So, don’t fuck around. I know that we invited all the drivers to our wedding but none of them are going to cut you any slack out there today.”

“Gotcha Kelly. Don’t worry I know that the other drivers are going to be just as hard on me today as any other time. Give me another kiss for luck.” Kelly smiled and leaned down one more time for the kiss. “I got a feeling that I’m going to need all the luck I can get today.”

“Why?” Was all she asked.

“I pissed off Beth.” I smiled up at her as I pulled my helmet on. Kelly just groaned. She knew what I was up to with my sister. If there was one thing that I know that will totally screw with my sister’s driving, it’s when she gets pissed. I love my sister, but the one thing she can’t do is drive when she gets emotional. As long as she can keep her emotions in check Beth can out drive ninety-nine percent of the drivers out there. I’m the one who lets her emotions fuel her driving. I always have been, always will be, an emotional driver. And today I’m racing on America’s Formula One track.

That is all the emotional drive I need to conquer this track today. The other drivers may be out for the sport and all that bullshit, but not me. Today it’s all about National Pride for me. This track belongs to the people of the United States of America and the great state of Texas. The last of the Confederate States to surrender. There was no way in hell I was going to lose in front of these people. The problem is I know that Beth feels the same way that I do about today’s race.

Chief Hailee signaled me that it was time to start engines. I raised my thumb signaling that I was set. I felt the engine kickover and heard the roar of the monster that has been chained to my will come to life once more. I reach down and hit the play button on my iPod. As I roll out behind the other drivers the opening notes of One night in Bangkok by Murray Head. I chuckled to myself as I know that Beth has been screwing around with my uploads. Not that it well make a deference. She forgets that we have the same tastes in music when it comes to racing.

We weren’t halfway round the track when Kathy came up on the radio. “Bobbie the Marshals just informed us that there will be an extra two warmup laps.”

“Why?”

“They said something about reworking the lineup. It seems that you’ll be moving up in the poles before the race even starts. Two of the other drivers are being penalized for powerplant violations.” I knew that those were major violations. Enough that the Marshals could pull you from the race if they felt that the violations were bad enough.

“Damn. What did they do? Replace their powerplants?” I asked her as we rounded turn 12. I could tell that this hairpin was going to be a bitch during the race. Between turns 11, and 12 there is a nice straightaway that you get some nice speed on. Section 3 is nothing but twists and turns that are a grade A bitch at any speed. Section 1 has the widest hairpin turn on the circuit at the end of the front straightaway. It’s turn 1. Turns 2 through 6 might as well be a damned photocopy of Silverstone’s run through Maggots/Beckets. Section 2 is turns 7 through 12 with the last two turns being some the nastiest left hand turns anywhere.

“Don’t know Bobbie. All the Marshals are saying is that three cars will be shuffled to the back of the pack. Don’t be surprised if they try to pull something late in the race. How’s the track feel?”

“It feels slick through most of section one but dry as a bone for two and three. Doesn’t make any sense. It’s like someone sprayed down only that part of the track with something and left the rest of it alone. Why?” I knew that Kathy was thinking about the track conditions.

“If section one is still slick, we’re going to have problems. The sun has been up and beating down on the track for the last five hours. Are you sure that the track is wet?”

“I said it was slick Kathy not wet. It’s like the surface of the track is covered in a light coating of oil or ice. Like I said it doesn’t make any sense. If I didn’t know any better, it almost feels like driving on marbles.” I knew that I wasn’t making any sense but that was the only way I could describe that section of the track.

Dad came up on the radio out of nowhere. “Hold back on the power for the first seven laps, Bobbie. Be lap eight section one will come back to race conditions. That slick feeling is from the true grip that they sprayed the track down with last night. Where does it feel the worse?”

“Turns three through five. Why?”

“Because that area hasn’t had the same amount of sun as the rest of the track yet. Be the time we reach the midway point that part of the track will feel like you’re driving on concrete.” Dad explained for me.

“Copy dad. Looks like the Marshals have gotten the shuffling all sort out. Time to make the donuts guys.” I dropped of the radio as I pulled in behind Edwards in seventh position on the starting grid.

It didn’t take long before the Christmas-tree lights lite up signaling the countdown to start. Like everyone else I was paddling the throttle and chomping at the bit to start the race. When the lights turned green, I floored the accelerator and started working my way through the pack. I passed two other drivers before they had a chance to block me.

By the time we hit turn 1 I knew that the rest of the day was going to be a none stop fight to the finish line. Those two passes were going to be the easiest of the day for me. As I exited turn one heading for turn 2 Ghost Riders in the Sky by the Outlaws began to play. This was followed up by Metallica’s Enter Sandman. By the time that Blue Oyster Cult’s Godzilla was sounding in my ears I knew who had change my race mix. It wasn’t my dear sister, but my loving wife.

Over the next fifty-two laps and seven pit stops I busted my ass and worked my way up into second place right on Beth’s ass end. I knows that she sees me nipping at her heels. I’ve been right on her ass for the last seven laps. I push in even tighter. I smile as I see the first wiggle as she rounds turn 20. That one little wiggle is all I needed to see to know that I was starting to get on Beth’s nerves, and she is starting to lose control letting her anger with me get the better of her judgement. I love my sister but there is no family or team players in the final five laps of a race. It’s every man or woman for themselves. In the words of Dale Earnhardt Sr. second place is the first loser. And I cannot afford any more loses to Beth.

As we enter section 2, I know that I need to make my move on the back straightaway between turns 11 and 12. All I have to do is stay tucked in tight on Beth’s ass end and she’ll do the rest of the work for me. We cleared turns 7 through 10 with Beth barely holding on to her lead. When turn 11 came into view I saw my chance. Beth must have thought that I was going to go to the inside and left the outside wide open. I down shift two gears and pulled alongside her in the middle of the turn. My sudden an unexpected move to the outside on turn 11 must have spooked Beth big time. She slammed on her brakes and started understeering bad. If it hadn’t been for me powering past, she would have side-swiped my car. I came out of turn 11 poring on the power for the straightaway. Beth is hot on my heels. I haven’t got away with the pass yet. I know my sister. And there is no way that she’ll let me just drive away to take the win.

For the next four laps Beth and I came close to trading first place time after time. She kept challenging me for the lead. On lap 53 she tried to pass me on the front straightaway. Lap 54 she tried to pull the same passing maneuver that I had on her. Only she tried it on turn 15. At lap 55 she did everything she could to use the two DRS zones to pass me. Thankfully I was able to block her both times. I pulled out the mean and nasty tricks that I had learned as a rat-racer to hold off Beth over those last few laps. I even went so far as to use inertia drifting through every turn on the last lap. Not that, that was helping a whole lot. Beth knows and used the tricks to keep me within striking distance. I was really beginning to doubt that I could hold her off for one more lap. So, when I saw the white flag, I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief. Instead I keyed my mike.

“Kathy, keep an eye on Beth for me. I’m going for the track record.” That was all I told Kathy as I crossed over the start/finish line to the opening notes of Iron Maiden’s Run to the Hills. That song was all I needed to hear just then. I didn’t care about the race anymore. I fell away into that place I go to when I need to push myself and the car beyond our limits. Gone was the professional Formula One driver. In her place was the man that would challenge the Devil’s Bounty Hunter on the racetracks of the world.

“Bobbie! Beth is going to the inside. I think she’ll try to pass you on turn two or just after!” Kathy yelled over the radio.

“Thanks Kathy.” With her warning I knew what Beth was up to. Not that it would matter in the long run.

Just as Kathy predicted Beth tried for the pass on turn 3. She went to the inside curb as we exited turn 2. Even as she was pulling long side of me, I knew I had her. I pulled a full ninety-degree drift as we entered turn 3. It forced her to hit the brakes. That one mistake on her part would be all that I need to win the race. I know that it was mean, nasty, and underhanded, but that is racing. If we had been on a NASCAR track the move, I would have used is know a bump-n-run. What I had done was as close to rubbing in NASCAR as I could get away with in Formula One.

With that one simple slide-job the race was all but done. I just needed to clear the last 17 turns and 2 straightaways. Kathy saw what was happening and started calling out the turns. The entire time she let me know where Beth was at on the track. I may have pissed Beth off, but she wasn’t letting it get to her. Not like the way it did at Silverstone. The funny thing about Beth and her emotions is she has gotten a better control over them in the last few months. I can tell that her sessions with Doc Sharon are helping. Damn not good, not good at all. Even as I round turn 15 Beth is still hot on my ass end. She is not going to give up the chase until we cross the line.

I kept pushing my car and skills to their limits. I had to if I want to beat my sister. The other drivers may take us for granted or play us off as some publicity stunt. That is the one thing I’ll never do to another driver disrespect them. I may not like a few of them, but they’ve all earned my respect, especially when it comes to my sister. She is just too damned good to take for grant or blow her off as a publicity stunt. The moment I do that Beth will roll my ass for lunch money.

I had just exited turn 20 when Kathy came up on the radio. Screaming at the top of her lungs. “BOBBIE! BETH IS GOING TO THE OUTSIDE!”

From there out it was a drag race to the finish line. I jammed the accelerator to the floor and worked my way through the gears. I had five-tenths of a second led on Beth. That was all that I needed to win. If I could hold on to the led. Which was not going to be easy in a drag race.

We were so close together that I didn’t even realize I had won the race until Kathy came up on the radio. “You can back it down Bobbie. You won.”

“How close was the finish Kathy?” I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.

“Let’s just say that if it was any closer. We would have to go to the photos. You beat Beth by two-tenths of a second.”

“What was our lap time?” I really wanted to know that.

Mom came up on the radio for some reason to answer my question. “Give us another few seconds Speedy. We need to nail this one down with the Marshals.”

I worked my way around the track slowing down with Beth right beside me. She did raise her hand as congratulate me on the win as we rolled down the back straightaway. As we came around to the entrance of pit row mom comes back up on the radio. “Well it is official Bobbie. You just barely missed the track record by one-hundredth of a second. Sorry kiddo.”

“Well damn. All that work and all I get is the win.” I bitched only to have Beth come back with her own complaint.

“Don’t bitch, little sister. I led for forty-seven out of fifty-six laps. Then still lost to my snot nosed bitchy little sister. That’s what’s not far. I want someone to double check your damned powerplant.”

“Elisabeth your sister is not cheating. Just because she out drove you today is no sign that her car was better. She was just a little luckier.” I wanted to chuckle at the way mom slapped down Beth. “Now, bring home girls. We have two major wins to celebrate today. One track win, and one life win.”

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you do, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 32
Race day, Mexico City, Mexico

Once again, the world’s most annoying sound drags me from the sweet embrace of Somnus. I slap the damned alarm clock as hard as I can shutting off the annoying buzzing. As I rollover to climb out of bed I wince from the twinge of pain from my still healing ribs. I know that I got to try and get in my normal workout this morning. I just don’t feel like it lately. I just wanted to roll back over and go back to sleep next to Kelly.

As much as I wanted Kelly to stay home, I’m glad that she is here with me. She insisted on coming with me to Mexico. She kept telling me that her and the babies are fine. That her OB/GYN told her she would not have to stop traveling for another month. If you ask me her baby catcher is full of shit. Then again, I have developed a healthy distaste for doctors of all specialties. Kelly doesn’t blame me for my distrust of doctors thankfully. She knows that I come by it honestly from my time in UMSC Children’s’ Hospital in Charlestown. I had one too many of those dipshits hand me a line of crap when I was there undergoing chemo.

When Kelly stirred and started to get up I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Go back to sleep love. You and the babies need your rest. Today is going to be trying enough on you.”

“Um…kay. See you when you get from your workout.” With that the love of life rolled back over, snuggled under the covers, and went back to sleep. I wanted to smack her on the ass as a joke but thought better of it. With the way her hormones have been driving her crazy lately she just might cut my hand off. With a dull spork.

After dressing in a sports bar, leggings, and running shoes I headed down to the hotel gym. For the last few days I’ve joined the team as they ran the track. Today is different though. Like all race days we all hit the hotel gym for our workouts. Our days of freely running around the different tracks of the world on race days are now over. Too many of mine and Beth’s fans have started coming out to try and run with us. Much to the displeasure of the event staff security. As usual Beth, Tony, and the rest of the team smiled as I entered the gym area. I went straight over to the floor area to stretch.

“How’s Kelly doing Beth?” Kathy asked as she bent at the waist over her left leg to grab her toes and place her forehead to her knee. “The babies keeping her up at night yet. Any midnight runs to the bathroom? Are her ankles swelling? Is she bitching about getting fat? You know. Is she showing all those telltale signs about being pregnant?”

I chuckled at her questions. She wasn’t the only former cheerleader that had come to me asking simple questions. I can tell that more than a few of them are jealous of Kelly and me. I’ve seen the sideways glances at Kelly whenever she was at one of the races lately. They’re the similar to the looks the guys have been giving me. I chuckled and smiled over a Kathy.

“Trust me Kathy. All those crazy old-wife’s tales are true. The swollen ankles, the midnight runs to the bathroom to pee, the wild and crazy food cravings. It’s all true. I can’t wait until the day you get pregnant. I just hope that whoever you fall in love with and marry can handle a cheerleader driven insane by run amok hormones. Wait a minute? Are you pregnant already?” All the guys started chuckling at my question.

Kathy just stuck her tongue out at me and returned to her stretching. Of the guys in the gym I noticed that Jake Cahill has been paying Kathy the most attention lately. Those two have been spending a lot of time together on and off the track. I decided to have a little fun with my spotter and with a smile asked. “Kathy, has Jake popped the question yet?”

I was not expecting the sudden blush that covered her face. I quickly demanded of her an answer. “When?”

“Friday night before the Suzuka race.” By now Kathy’s blush reached her sports bra. With a small smile she held up her left hand showing me the ring.

“Details girlfriend. I want, no demand all the details.” I know that I was being pushy, but what the fuck. Kathy had been the one to lead the charge into mine and Kathy’s romantic life by the girls on my team.

“When we finished with practice Jake took me to the Suzuka Flower garden. We must have spent two hours there just walking around, looking at the different garden patches and sculptures. Then Jake took me to this really nice restaurant called Unzen for a nice quiet romantic diner. After diner he took me to the Ishiyakushi-ji Temple just before sunset. I thought we were just going to one more tourist attraction. But when we got to the tower with the bell Jake stopped.” I watched as a dreamy expression came to Katy’s face. I knew that she was remembering that magical moment. “He just kneeled down and held out the ring. I think he was more nervous than I was just then. His hand was shacking so hard I thought he was about to drop the ring.”

When Kathy giggled, I knew that something must have tickled her funny bone over the moment. “Bobbie he was so worried that he couldn’t even ask me the question. He started and stopped three times. I have to admit that I got frustrated and just said yes. He just breathed a sigh of relief and put the ring on my finger.”

“Will you tell me the truth about something Kathy? It concerns the team.” I knew that I have been out of the loop when it comes to somethings within the team. This latest development proved the point.

“Only Machel, and Brenda haven’t been asked yet. Then again the girls do outnumber the guys so it’s no surprise.” Kathy told me honestly then giggled. “We all know that you and Beth have been out of the loop when it comes to us. You kind of have to be that way. We know that you depend on us, and don’t take any of us for granted, Bobbie. But we all owe you for our chances at the big time. We also know that you two are the ones that put it all on the line every time you get behind the wheel. One mistake and you’re in the hospital if not the morgue. That’s one of the reasons we have all kept our love lives out of the public eye and away from you two. I think that the only person who actually knows who is dating who is my mom.”

“Thanks, Kathy.” I sighed with a relief at hearing this piece of news for two reasons. First, I didn’t want my team to suffer from the dating between members. Secondly, there was someone looking out for the younger members of the team still. I know that they have all graduated and everything, but I was the one who brought them into this life. I feel responsible for them.

“Look Bobbie, you just go out there and drive that car until the damned wheels fall off. Let the team take care of themselves. Now I have a question for you. Will you be one of my bridesmaids?” Kathy smirked.

The thought of me in one of those ugly assed bridesmaids’ dresses ran through my mind. “I love you Kathy like a sister. But the only way I’ll be a bridesmaid for you is if you go with a plain gown. Deal?”

When Kathy pouted her lip a little and then giggled. I knew that was what she was planning. I think she was planning a little revenge because of the dresses that Kelly had picked out for our wedding. Not that I blamed her. Those dresses were hideous in the extreme. If I had been forced to wear one of those dresses, I would have revolted. She still took my hand. “Deal.”

Kathy turned serious looking me in the eye. “Listen, Bobbie, I know that you can handle this track cold. But I want you to take things easy for the first thirty-five to forty laps. This is one track that you can’t use your normal style of racing. You and Beth go out there and drive like you usually do you’ll both end up with DNF’s. Not something either of you can afford right now. Not with the way the race for the championship has shaken out.”

Kathy’s uncomfortable and extremely pointed reminder of the three-way tie for first place was like a bucket of ice water. I gave her a dirty glare to let me know how I felt. “Thanks for ruining my good mood Kathy. I was in the perfect mood for racing and then you go and dump on it.”

“Just doing my job to keep you grounded and focused on the job at hand.” Kathy smirked then sighed. “You have today and two more races. That’s it. The points race is just too damned tight to call. When you add in how close second and third place are there is no telling how this championship will turn out. If you or Beth place below sixth in any of these last three races you’re out of the championship race. With no chance of recovering in time. Not with just three races left for the year.”

“Damn it, Kathy. Don’t you think that I know that? Fuck! I know where Beth and I stand. Just as know where every other driver stands in the championship. I also know what happens if we don’t win the championship.” We may not be in danger of losing our sponsorship right now but there is always the threat. “Every last one of those fucking vultures that have been hounding us since the beginning of the season want us to fail.”

“They want for you more than to just fail Bobbie. They NEED for you to fail.” Coach Hall said from behind me. I looked up as she stepped in front of me. “The truth is they are praying for their favorite drivers to win. You and your sister have been the predominant threat all season long. They see what most do not. They see you and your sister taking away the fans of their favorite drivers. You take away fans you take away money. Which means you can take away the other teams’ sponsors. Never forget your basic Economics classes Bobbie. The world of high-performance racing such as Formula One is very much a money driven sport. Just as NASCAR and Indy are.”

It took me a few seconds to see what Coach Hall was getting at, but I did see her point. It cost a butt load of money to run a professional racing team. In any of the sports. It didn’t matter if it was Formula One or OPRA. When people say that racing is a rich man’s sport. They aren’t kidding. Especially when it comes to Offshore Powerboat Racing. I know that a Formula One car isn’t cheap, and neither is a Stockcar for NASCAR, but those boat hulls go for over 100 thousand just to start. That doesn’t even cover the cost of the engines. I know that we could buy 2 or 3 full powerplant replacements for our cars for the price of just 1 OPRA engine. I don’t even want to think of the cost for one of those professional airplane racing teams. I mean they have to start off at a million dollars just for the plane.

“When I add in all those endorsement contracts that they could lose it adds up. Big time.” I looked down as I stretched towards my toes. “And when they start losing sponsors, they also lose their rides. They lose their rides and the reporters lose their side money for interviews.”

“Keep going, Mrs. McGuire. You’re almost there.” Coach Hall pushed. “Who stands to lose the most money among the press? It’s not the reporters.”

“But they lose all those bonuses for those one-on-one interviews. Interviews that sell magazines, newspapers, and get TV ratings.” Then it hit me like a Mac truck with a full load. “IT’S not the reporters but their EMPLOYERS who will stand to lose the most when those interviews go bye-bye.”

“Now you’re thinking. Just one problem why would those interviews go away?” Coach Hall asked with a sly smile. “Surely there are other drivers willing to be interviewed in a one-on-side sitting.”

“Yeah but only me and Beth have refused those interviews. How are we hurting their ratings, and reviews? It’s not like we’re out to get those ass-clowns.” Then it hit me again. “Aw hell! None of the other young guns are talking now. All thanks to me and Beth telling that one fuck-nut to drop dead.”

“So doth the light shine down upon the unbeliever. As her Priestess did call out for all to hear. ‘Drop and give me twenty, you bitches.’” Like everyone else in the gym I chuckled at Coach Hall’s antics. She may be a demon bitch from Hell when it comes to physical fitness training, but she had a real sense of humor about how she approached things in life. Her next words proved this point. “Okay, you meatballs. Let’s break it down. From the top. Starting line.”

This something else that she had introduced to our team. She even had the pit crew memorize the track. As one my pit crew called out to her from all around the gym. “Ice furies are fueled and set to rumble!”

“Turn one!” She called out next.

“The front straightaway starts section one. Full power is only forty-five percent. Turn one is down and to the right! It exits out into turn two fast and hard. Turn two brings our furies back to the left looking for payback and a hard-right hand turn three. Turn three exits into the back straightaway for a thirty percent power run to turn four. And the start of section two.” Came the team’s answer. I was amazed at how accurate the team’s description of the first section to the track.

“Section two is announced by the ninety-degree left-hander of turn four. Turns five and six are just as nasty bringing the furies to the shortest straightaway heading for turn seven. Turn seven is a shallow left hander that exits into the eight through eleven chicane and the beginning of section three.” I just added my voice to theirs as we went over the track as a team.

“Section three, the furies are almost home free. Just six more turns to go. Turn twelve is a right-hander that brings us down to the only hairpin turn on the track, turn thirteen. Thirteen snaps us around to the looping turns of fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen. The doughnuts are backing on the exit to turn sixteen.” I almost chuckled at the description my team had for pit stops. With the entrance to pit road at the exit of turn 16 and entrance to turn 17 it made sense in a twisted way. “Turn seventeen and we’re done. Time to take the flag and Donald Duck is waiting with pizza.”

I finally did chuckle over the last line. I now know that Coach Hall has to be a real fan of Lee Marvin and the Dirty Dozen. I thought that I was the only one who loved that movie. Then again, when you look at my Netflex lineup and DVD rack they’re filled with class movies. My favorite ones are the old WW2 movies from the late 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s. I know that most people would expect me to be a fan of the old race scene or smuggler movies, but when your family builds race cars for a living those types of movies are kind of a turn off. I mean when you know the truth behind what it takes to build and drive those types of cars the fantasy of Hollywood just doesn’t compare.

“Beth, Bobbie! You’re up! What is the setup for the cars?! You first Beth.” Coach Hall called out.

Beth automatically answered first. “A midrange tyre for the tighter grip in the turns and faster take off on the straightaways.”

When Coach looked over at me, I knew that I was on the spot. “This is a custom-built race circuit. It combines the best and worst of a street circuit and a race circuit. The suspensions for the cars need to be balanced out to handle the shifting track conditions. Our next problem is the powerplant. The altitude alone requires a richer mix for the fuel.”

“What about the DRS zones?” Coach Hall asked us.

“Basically, worthless unless you can setup your opponent for the pass. For this track most, if not all, the cars will have almost the same aerodynamic setup. We all want that same edge.” I called out. “No scene getting creative with the wings or stabilizers. The down force won’t be that great of a factor or edge in this race.”

“Wrong!” I looked over at Coach Hall in wonder. When it comes to the cars she normally stays out of the pits. “You go out there trying to force either of those cars to perform outside of their setups and you’ll put them into the walls, Bobbie. You would know this if you had been running the track with us in the mornings.” The glare she gave me let me know what she thought about me only running on the gym’s treadmills. “Think about the layout of the track. Give us an accurate setup for the wings and stabilizers.”

I went over the track in my head as I used the treadmill for my morning run. Much to the annoyance of Coach Hall. I could clearly see the track as I ran. I had watched the video of the track more than thirty times. I even used my Xbox live option on my lap to play F1 2018 championship for this track. I have to say that between the videos and me playing on my laptop I’ve gotten a better grasp of how the tracks react beforehand.

I knew what I needed to have done with the wings and stabilizers. “A five to seven-degree attack angle on the front and rear spoilers. No more than two to three degrees on the side stabilizers for the start of the race. On the first pit stop add two more degrees attack angle for front spoiler, and five for the rear. Leave the stabilizers alone until the third pit stop. We won’t know how the track will change over the course of the race. The more the track rubbers up it could go one of two ways. It’ll get slick as hell, or tighter than a gnat’s ass in the turns. That is if the rubber doesn’t start marbling up on us. If it does that it’ll pile up in the tighter turns.”

“What do you want done if it does marble up?” Coach Hall asked as she start to run on the treadmill next to mine.

“Drop the rear spoiler by two degrees and raise the front by the same two degrees. Leave the side stabilizers alone. We’ll need the down force they provide to counter the rubber built in the turns either way it goes.” I called as I worked up a decent sweat. “The straightaways will hold their grip all day long until the last few laps. If they go away at all it’ll be in those laps unless it rains.”

Everyone in the room chuckled over the crack about it raining. As it was it hadn’t rained in almost a month. And when you add in the fact that the yearly average is around 144 inches the chances of it suddenly raining today were slim to none. That track out there is going to be one of the driest we’ve raced on this entire year. Just like with me and Beth Coach Hall called out questions to each member of the team. For most of us we started thinking of these little pop quizzes as her showing us that we still had a lot to learn.

Coach Hall called an end to our morning workouts sending us all first to get something to eat before getting ready for the race. I entered my room to find Kelly had ordered in room service for us both. I was a little surprised that she had ordered me a fruit dish consisting of melons and green tea for breakfast. There was everything I needed nutritionally to hold me through the race for today. I swear she has gotten pickier over what she and I eat ever since she became pregnant.

I took my time and enjoyed the breakfast. I knew that it would have to last for the rest of the day. At least until the end or I was forced out or the race due to engine failure. I’ve taken to racing by Dale Earnhardt’s philosophy of wreck or win. It’s not a philosophy that my parents are too proud of right now. In the last week during practice I’ve blown two engines by pushing the car beyond its limits. After I finished my breakfast I started dressing for the race. I smiled over at Kelly as she enjoyed her breakfast.

Kelly looked up at me from her plate of three-egg western omelet, bacon, biscuits and sausage gravy as I dressed in my racing leathers. Thankfully she’s laid off the coffee. “Bobbie do me a favor out there today? Whatever happens hold back on the powertrain until the last half of the race.”

“Okay, what the hell is with you and Kelly? You’re the second person who has tried to tell me how to drive today.” I growled. “What aren’t you two saying?”

“Bobbie nobody is trying to tell you how to drive the car. We’re just worried about you and Beth. You two go out there and push yourselves each and every time right up to the edge. That track out there is a hair trigger trap. One that is poised to strike the second you turn your backs on it.” Kelly finished by playing dirty. She rubbed her left hand across her baby bump.

“Fine. I’ll hold back for the first half the race.” I then put in a qualifier. I knew that you can’t ever tell how a race will turn out. “If I can, Kelly. We both know that you can’t tell what will or won’t happen out there once the flag drops. One mistake and everything changes in seconds.”

“That’s true Bobbie. We can’t predict everything, but you can still take precautions. One of which is you holding back until the last half of the race. Just like your Nomex underwear and racing leathers.” Kelly explained her reasons and what she was getting at.

“Okay, love. I’ll be careful.” I stood up from where I had finished tying my shoes and kissed her forehead. “See you down at the track.”

I left our room and took the helo ride with Beth to the track. I know that Beth can handle a car at over 200 mph on the Lady in Black, but a helicopter ride scares the crap out of her. They just my adrenaline pumping. One of these days, I want to learn how to fly one of these bad boys.

Two hours later Kelly showed up with her mom. I knew that Mrs. Ringwald had taken a few weeks to travel with Kelly because of her pregnancy. I found it funny that her mom was more worried over Kelly having twins than her dad. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Mrs. Ringwald, or mom Carl as she wants me to call her now, is an EMT and a true Medical Professional in every way. As they draw near, I noticed something strange about mom Carl. She was holding her right arm at a slight angle.

“Really mom, you should get that looked at. You could’ve done some real damage.” Kelly bitched to her mom.

“I’m fine, baby. It’s just a pulled muscle.” Carl comforted Kelly.

“Bullshit mom! I saw you in the gym. You did more than just a muscle. Why won’t you go to the hospital? The real reason this time.” Now I knew why Kelly was bitching her mom out. Carl Ringwald worked out in her off time for her job as an EMT. She needed to be in great physical shape because sometimes she had to carry a person out of a building or something.

Carl sighed then hugged Kelly. “I just don’t trust these doctors down here. There you happy now?”

“Yes.” Kelly smiled as she turned to me. “Any chance we could get her seen by the infield medical staff, honey?”

Before I could answer her though my own mother got involved. “Who needs to see the infield medical staff?”

“Carl does mom. She hurt her arm bad during her morning workout and doesn’t want to go to the local doctors. I figure that she should be able to use the infield medical staff. If we can figure out a way to get it done legally.” I was smirking as I filled my mom in on the situation.

“I see no reason that our ‘team medic’ cannot use the station.” Mom gave Carl and Kelly a sweet smile. “Kelly do me a favor darling.”

“Sure, momma Jewels. What do you need me to do?” Kelly beamed.

“Drag your hard-headed mother over to the infield medical center and have them check her out. Tell them full workup. If your mother has to go to the hospital have the bill sent to the team.” Mom ordered.

“Now wait one damn minute Jewels. I’m perfectly capable of diagnosing myself. I don’t need to see a doctor.” Carl told mom.

“Wrong Carl. All of us here can see that you’re favoring that arm. Now let Kelly take you over to the infield medical center and get that arm looked at. Don’t worry about the bill. The team will cover it. All part of the family package. Now get going.” I smiled as mom pushed Carl and Kelly towards the infield medical center with a friendly shove.

I chuckled as Carl and Kelly just gave up and started walking towards the medical center. I turned to mom with a smile. “Hey mom. What brings you down here today? You haven’t been coming down here before the races lately.”

“Two reasons really. The first is we replaced the complete powerplant for of the both cars last night. We reworked the gears in the transmissions to give you a higher red line on the lower gears for more power in the takeoff. We dropped in the heaviest turbo that we can get away with and still be within the regs. And oversized the pistons. All perfectly legal but pushing the edge. The second reason concerns the suspension setup. This maybe a straight built racetrack but it handles closer to the road courses. We’ve tried to give you and Beth a setup as close to what we use for a drift car. Just don’t go drifting too much out there. We don’t have the tyres or time to replace them every few laps. Only drift if you absolutely have to, understand?” I could tell that there was something mom was worried about just not what.

I pulled mom and Beth off to one side. “Okay, mom. What’s got you worked up? I know that it isn’t that bullshit about breaking up the team. We settle that last week. Talk to us.”

“That’s just it, Bobbie. We thought we had that mess with splitting you and Beth up settled last week. But that crazy bitch Bertha has gone speed crazy. She wants to do more than just dominate the Formula One circuit. She wants to prove that Mercedes-Benz belongs in NASCAR with a winning team. In her eyes the only way to do that is with one of you girls.” The more mom explained what was worrying her the madder I became. “One of you will be making the move next season. As much as I wish we didn’t have to make this choice it is out of our hands. The season is almost over, and they pay the bills.”

“Have they decided which of us is going to make the move?” Beth snarled.

“That has been left up to us to decide.” Mom gave Beth a small smile. “Benz and Maybach want you on the NASCAR team Beth. While Jellinek and Daimler want you for the NASCAR team Bobby.”

“Mom, why our they pushing so hard to get one of us into NASCAR? It doesn’t make any sense. We got a winning combination here. Why are they fucking with a good thing so late in the game?” Beth bitched. “What’s changed in the last few weeks? Someone pulling something dirty behind our backs?”

“Nothing dirty is going on girls. As for what has changed the answer is simple. The politics.” At mine and Beth’s confused looks she explained. “The NASCAR owners won’t let the new team onto the circuit without at least one proven driver. And the France family wants that driver to be one of you.”

That took me by surprise, and I wasn’t alone. Beth looked as if she had just been slapped in the face by a fresh catfish. I let my feelings on the matter be known the only way I could just then. “Sorry, no good rat fucking bastards. They just want to turn us into some fucking publicity stunt.”

“Roberta Lee McGuire you watch the tone of your voice young lady. As for the France family wanting to use this team as a publicity stunt drop it. Remember that half of this sport is about publicity.” Mom snapped.

“I know that mom. The problem is we got a winning team and there are too many outside influences pushing for one of us to jump to NASCAR.” I growled out. “Why can’t they just leave us alone and let us compete?”

This time is was mom who sighed. “Bobbie, I know that you don’t want to hear this. So, I’ll get straight to the point. NASCAR is not the only auto sport that has been after Mercedes-Benz to allow you to make the shift to their sport. Ever since you and Beth took the top two slots and held on to those positions we’ve had requests. Formally written requests.”

“What do you mean mom? What kind of requests?” Beth asked rapidly.

“Word has gotten out that you girls each have the following licenses Formula One Super, NASCAR, Formula Renault, Endurance, Touring, Drift, and Rally. They all want a piece of the McGuire sisters’ luck and skill. What certain reporters have begun to call the McGuire magic.” The smirk mom gave us was one of pure mischievousness. “There are more than a few teams that would sell their souls to have just one of you behind the wheel of their cars. You girls are just too damned good for your own reputations.”

It was like the lights coming on in the garage at midnight. “Ah shit. NASCAR wants us for the fan base we’ll pull in with just the first race.”

“Got it in one, kiddo. The question is which one of you wants to make the jump? I know that neither of you want to leave the circuit. So how do you want to decide who goes over to the NASCAR team and who stays with Formula One team?” Mom laid out. “Should we draw straws or let the championship decide who stays and who goes?”

Beth smiled. “The way we’ve always decided things mom. We race for it.”

“Sounds fair to me. I lose I’ll stay, and I win I’ll go.” I held out my hand and Beth took it. Then she gave me a dirty look.

“Just what makes you think you’ll win? I’m just as good a driver as you are. Besides what makes you think that NASCAR wants your skinny ass anyway?” Beth demanded. Then smiled. “We do this straight up Bobbie. No pranks. No holding back. We go out there and race clean. Understood?”

I just grinned. “Fine. We let the championship placement decide. May the best driver win.”

“Play fair girls. But I do like the way you’ve decided to let things play out. I hate that we have to do this, but this is one of those times that Corporate politics are forcing our hand.” Mom gave us each a hug.

I had a funny thought and giggled. “Say do you think there is any way of getting McNairy in on this little bet of ours?”

Mom and Beth both chuckled at the same time. “NO!”

Giving us each one more hug and a gentle push towards the cars. “Now go out there and bust your asses. And listen to your spotters damn it. They have a better view of what is going on out there on the track than you do. Let them inform you of what is happening around you. That is what we fucking pay them to do. let them do their damn jobs. And don’t push the cars for the first half of the race. No matter what happens.”

That was the third time that someone had given me that advice today. That meant I needed to pay attention. “Okay mom, you’re the third person to tell me that today. What is going? Why does everyone want us to hold back?”

“Last year they resurfaced the track with a lower grade of asphalt. You might as well be driving on eighty-grit sandpaper. That track is worse about eating tyres than Darlington on a Sunday in August at high noon.” As mom talked about the track surface, I quickly understood the worry. A blown tyre from over wear and you’re in the wall or sand traps at over 90 mph.

“I hear you loud and clear mom. Take it easy for the first half let the competition wear out their tyres. They’ll come to us as the race wears on.” I figure out what Kathy, Kelly, and now mom was getting at.

“Good now get out there and win this bitch.” With that last bit coaching and a final hug mom pushed us towards our cars. I looked out at one of the last three tracks that held my destiny this season. With McNairy, Beth and me in a three-way tie for first one mistake could mean all the difference in the championship. The kick in the ass for me is where I placed during qualifying yesterday. Once again, I’m going to have to fight my way through traffic to the front. The good thing is Beth and McNairy will be right there with me. The top three drivers in the championship race are holding places 6 through 8 on the starting gird. With me and McNairy in 7th and 8th places.

I took my time as I finished getting ready for the race. Sherry Cheatem stepped up behind me and began to braid my hair for the race. Kelly had started doing this just before Silverstone in Spain. Ever since then one of them has braided my hair before the race. The girls on my team had taken to seeing this little ritual as a good luck charm. Every time one of them has done this I’ve managed to pull off a magical finish.

Once I had my earbuds in and iPod playing, I zipped up my leathers. Danny took his place and helped into the cockpit for the day then began to strap me into the seat. With my helmet on I signaled Chief Hailee for the engine start. When Jose fired over my engine, I felt the demon that was chained to my will come to life once more as the opening notes to Metallica’s Enter Sandman sounded in my ears. As we rolled off pit road for the warmup lap, I knew that the advice mom, Kelly, and Kathy had given us was accurate. I could feel the slight rumble of the pavement through my seat. Even as we rounded turn 1, I knew that today was going to be a nasty race.

I could feel the ass end wanting to slide out on me. I keyed my mike. “Kathy the second we go green keep your eyes on the first four cars.”

“What’s up Bobbie?”

“This track is slicker than what we were expecting. The rubber is already starting to marble up on the outer edges. Even the straightaway has a slick feeling to it. I got a feeling that when we go green those first four cars are going to either spinout or wreck completely somewhere around lap ten to twelve.” I figured that if Kathy was watching those four cars then I could worry about McNairy and the others.

“Gotcha Bobbie. Cover one through four. What about five?”

“Beth will most likely take of fifth place for us.” I snarked. I knew full well that Beth would take of fifth place.

We took two full laps around the track before lining for the start. I wait with as much patients as I can muster. When the green finally came we all hauled ass for turn 1 and just like I predicted we never made it through the first 15 laps before the yellow came out. First place spun out on turn 12 taking the second-place car with him on lap 12. I knew what had happened before Kathy came up on the radio. “Yellow flag is out for section two Bobbie.”

“How bad was the wreck?” I needed the information on the two wrecked cars.

“Well you’re now in fifth place with Beth in third. I doubt that Reichenbach and Hurtz will be back out on the track with that kind of damage.”

“Thanks Kathy. Watch for the next wreck to come somewhere around lap fifteen or so. It’ll be back in the middle of the pack.” I knew that I was showing off but didn’t care. I knew that the four drivers most likely to wreck were at the tail end of the pack at the beginning of the race had worked their way up into the mid teen positions by now. “Keep an eye on the cars in the twelfth through fourteenth positions.”

“Gotcha Bobbie. Twelfth through fourteenth.”

We went back to full green around the fourth lap. For the next 10 laps the racing was hard and nasty. Beth and I let more than a few drivers pass us. Just as mom had directed us, we came in for our first pit stop at lap 15. By then we had dropped back to our original starting positions by the time the wreck came on lap 27. This time it was on the apex of turn 6. And again, I called most of the cars that would spin out. The car in 14th was able to avoid the wreck. Only just barely.

When the yellow came out this time Beth and I pulled in for out second pit stop. Our pit crews had us back out on the track with 1.97 pit stops. I swear they have gotten faster and faster with every race. If anybody had told me that a bunch of teenagers would be turning professional level pit crew times at the beginning of the season I would have laughed. If I hadn’t been there at the first race of the season to see how far they’ve came I still won’t believe it. But these were my people and they had something to prove at every race. They fought for more than just a winning position. They did this for pride and nothing else.

Once we back out on the track, I keyed my mike once more. “Kathy when we go green keep an eye on the first four cars again. Let me know the second they start to spread out.”

“Okay Bobbie. What is it you see that we haven’t?”

“It’s the track Kathy. The build of rubber is starting to go away. Those four didn’t make any adjustments to their wings or stabilizers. All they did was change tyres. Four maybe five laps those new tyres are going to start coming apart. Ten to fifteen laps later. Boom! Blow out in turn seven or eight. This time it’ll be all four going down.” This time I wasn’t showing off. I could tell that the track was going to shit.

Kathy didn’t say another word. We went green and for the next sixteen laps everything was fine. I was beginning to wonder if I had called this wrong. Then it happened. And it was right where I said it would only it took out more than just the first four cars. If Beth, McNairy, and I hadn’t been as far back as we were, we would have been caught up in the wreck. This time the Marshals dropped the yellow flag and then the red. When we pulled into the pits, I knew that we would be sitting still for a while.

I had already seen the rescue crews rolling to clear the track and help the drivers as we rounded turn 17. The Marshals were already walking the line signaling for all cars to shut down their engines. AS I climbed out of the cockpit the Marshal stopped me. “We’re looking at a half hour delay in the race, Mrs. McGuire. Please remember no changes to the car during the delay.”

I gave the man a smile. “Of course, sir. MDRI always obeys the rules.”

As I walked over to stand with my team Chief Hailee stepped up next to me. “This one is going to take a while Bobbie. I do have a question for you.”

“You want to know how I’ve been able to call the wrecks. The answer is simple Chief. I’ve been watching the track and feeling how it’s been changing. I also watched as the front four only changed their tyres and left the wings and stabilizers alone. We changed our settings for the wings and stabilizers. Besides changing the tyres for fresh. I knew that one of them would blow a tyre. It was only a matter of time.” I looked over as the first of the wreckers rolled into the pits. “I just wish that they hadn’t taken out so many when they lost it.”

“Okay I can see that, but what about the other two wrecks?” Chief Hailee wanted to know. “I don’t see how you could call them.”

“At the start of the race it was easy. I watched as positions one through four were fighting their cars as they went through turns one through six. Hell, Chief I was having problems myself in the opening laps. As for the second wreck I knew that those four yahoos would sooner or later end up wrecking. This is their second to last chance to keep their rides.” I looked over as a second wrecker rolled into the pits. “Everyone on the circuit knows that they’re on the chopping block because they haven’t produced this year. For one of them this year is their last if they don’t start winning.”

“Do you think we’ll go back to green?” Danny asked me from next to his dad.

“We got sixteen laps to go. So yeah, we’ll go back to racing once the track is clear. Be ready for a fast pit stop once we get running again. I figure that we have five to six more good laps on those tyres.” I sighed then looked back as the first ambulance rolled by heading for the infield care center. “Looks like the meat wagons are taking their time. It must not be that bad.”

“Just taking the drivers in to be checked out, Mrs. McGuire.” I turned to face the voice of the man behind me. Only to find that he was dressed as a Marshal. “Word just came down. We will be restarting the race in twenty to thirty minutes at the most.”

With that the Marshal walked on down the track. Leaving me to bitch up a storm. “DAMN! THIS FUCKING SUCKS! The engines and tyres are going to be cold as shit by the time we restart.”

“We’ll deal, Speedy. Just like we always do.” Dad told me as he stepped up beside me, Beth, and Chief Hailee. “What I cannot figure out is why all the other drivers are busting their collective asses to come in first out there.”

“The answer to that Herr. McGuire is simple.” We all turned to see Thomas Reichenbach standing there smiling. “The word is out. One of your two lovely daughters will be leaving us at the end of the season.”

“What does that have to do with the price of tea in China, Thomas?” I snarked.

Thomas just chuckled. “You are the team to beat. To them they have but just three more chances at defeating the Ice Furies.”

“Wait a minute! We just found that one of us will be leaving Formula One definitively. We haven’t even made an announcement.” Dad told Thomas. “How did you find out?”

“Herr. McGuire the, how you say, gossip? Ja, gossip on pit road spreads faster than oil on a wet track. We have all heard that the Mercedes-Benz NASCAR team has not been going over well with the France family. They want a known driver with that team. That can only mean one thing. One of your two daughters will be leaving the circuit.” Thomas grinned. “I for one will miss whichever of you will leave us. You young ladies have truly pushed the competition level to new heights.”

I watched as he turned and walked away. “I swear we need to tackle that man and put a fucking bell around his neck. How the hell does he just keep popping up like that?”

The rest of my team just chuckled as dad gave me a hug. “Well that little talk answers a few questions for us. More than half of these guys want that win just for bragging rights. That means you and Beth need to be twice as careful out there from now until the finish line at Abu Dhabi.”

“Understood pop. Eyes in the back of our heads.” I told him then smiled as the Marshals signaled for us to return to our cars and start engines. Something that I desperately wanted just then. I still had the need for speed burning in my blood and wanted to race. More than ever now that I know the other drivers are trying to beat me as a matter of pride not for points. We had become the team that everyone want, no, needs to beat. We’ve become the boogeymen of the Formula One world in just one season. I really didn’t want to breakup the team now. If we’re scaring the crap out of the other teams after just one season imagine what how they would react next year. This final thought gave me a mile-wide smile as we got ready to roll.

Once we restarted our engines and pulled out of pit road, I noticed that I was in fourth place. I know that I haven’t made a lot of headway in this race, but this is the way mom wanted me to play things today. It has been eating at me from the time the ‘green flag’ first flew. I’ve been wanting to hammer my way to the front but with the way the track has been eating tyres and tearing up the cars, mom was right. I’ve seen too many of the other cars end up either in the wall in the gravel and sand pits.

After two yellow flag laps we went lined up and went green. With just 14 laps to go I knew that I had to make my move soon. I only have four problems. My first problem, I had to get by Beth. As much as I love my sister and she loves me, Beth wasn’t going to make this easy for me. the reason was simple. This was racing and it was every man or woman for themselves out here. Then there was our three common problems. First was Robert McNairy who was in second place and not willing to give that spot up without a fight. Then surprisingly the German gentleman, current second place holder in the championship race, and one hell of a competitor known as Thomas Reichenbach in first place. Lastly came our biggest pain and problem. The track itself. In summery I have my fucking hands full.

As we powered down the front straightaway once the track went green I knew that there was no way I was going to win this race. With a me, Beth, and McNairy in a three-way tie for first and Reichenbach just four points behind us nobody was going to just give up a position. To prove this point or should I say to DRIVE this point home, Beth pulled a slide job to cut me off in turn 1. For the next 7 laps Beth would play with me in this manner while nibbling at the heels of McNairy.

I knew that McNairy was faced with one of two choices. Let Beth pass or pass Reichenbach. Knowing McNairy, he’ll go after Reichenbach hard and heavy. That was just the type of driver he was, aggressive. Then when you drive at this level, there is only one way to drive, aggressively. I should know. I traded enough paint and rubber with the man to know. then downside to that situation is Reichenbach is just as aggressive and will fight back with everything that his has. Those two will go at each other until the checkered flag flies high over the track.

Which means that no matter how this shakes out Beth and I are racing for third place. It’ll take a major screwup on Robert or Thomas’ part to change the outcome of this race. And those two men do not screwup. While both men drove with an aggression that matches my own, they could not be more deferent. Just like my sister and me, one was all firy passion behind the wheel and the other was ice-cold logic. I fought with Beth for third place for thirteen of the last fourteen laps. On, the last lap of the race I finally passed her on the inside of turn 15. I could tell that Beth was expecting the pass and just let it happen. At first, I wondered why then realized that her tyres had finally started to go to shit and she was doing all that she could to just finish the race without wrecking.

We crossed the finish line third and fourth. With first going to Reichenbach and McNairy taking second. After a final lap to cool down I led Beth into the pits. After pulling to a stop and shutting down our cars in our individual pit stalls we both needed help climbing out of our cars. Kelly was right there to give me a welcoming hug. “Congratulations love. I know that you didn’t win but you never gave up.”

“That may be true love, but right now. I need a hot meal, a restroom, change of clothes, and a hot shower.” I sighed as I leaned into Kelly’s should just a little bit more than I wanted. “Not necessarily in that order.”

“Then come on Bobbie. We got enough time to get you cleaned up before you have to fly out for Brazil.” Kelly pulled me towards the team trailer. “You can start by getting out of those leathers. You sink.”

“Yah! You spend more than five hours in Nomex and leather while driving three-hundred and five kilometers. You would sink to.” I bitched.

-----tbc-----

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you do, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 33
Yas Marina, Abu Dhabi, the Championship Race or as I call it the last dance.

I stood quietly looking out at the track. It took everything I had in Sao Paulo, Brazil to even bring me back into contention for the title. Not that it mattered. I’m still 5 points behind McNairy, 8 points behind Reichenbach and tied with Beth. Unless I fucking pullout all the stops and win today Reichenbach will be this year’s champion. Not that I really, ever had a chance. Sure, Beth and I made one hell of a run at the championship, but I always knew that a championship win wasn’t in the cards.

“Thinking about how you’re going to attack the track, Speedy?” I let the smile cross my face as I turned to face Chief Hailee. “You out there already?”

“No Chief, I’m still here. Just trying to clear my head before the race as usual.” I looked back out at the track. “Tell me the truth Chief. Did we ever really stand a chance at winning the championship?”

Chief Hailee chuckled as he looked up and down the pit road. “Bobbie, there is one thing that I’ve known from the first time I watched you and your sister drive your parents’ cars, you girls are champions. You two stood a better chance at winning a rookie year championship than anyone I’ve ever seen. I’ve been in the game for thirty plus years. I’ve seen them come and go. None of them have half the talent of you girls. It doesn’t matter when it happens, but it will happen. As for this year, the race hasn’t run yet. You still got a shot at the World Driver’s Championship Cup.”

“Yeah, I just got to win this race along with Reichenbach and McNairy both getting a DNF.” I snorted, then grinned. “Let’s hope that they screwup.”

“Don’t you know it is bad form and all to wish that on your competitors Roberta?” When I heard the polished English accent that belongs to McNairy, I give the man a smile. “One would think that you do not play fair.”

“Ja, this is true. To court misfortune upon your competitors is to challenge the fates.” I just couldn’t help it. I liked Thomas Reichenbach and Robert McNairy. Thomas smiled. “Und as much as I admire you and your sister. I will not let either of you beat me today. Not if I have a choice.”

“Then don’t screw up, Thomas. Because the second you give us a chance, we’ll roll your ass for lunch money.” I grinned. “Good luck out there today.”

“You know for a crude American, you’re quite charming at times Roberta.” Robert smirked. “Then there are times that you are a pain in the ass.”

“Ja, das ist richtig. She is one major pain in the ass on the track. I feel sorry for those poor American drivers when they face her on their tracks.” Thomas just grinned and held out his hand. “Good luck today Bobbie.”

I took his hand and shook it. “You too, Thomas.”

Robert took my hand next. “Good luck, Roberta.”

“Same to you, Robert.” I shook his hand and smiled at the two men. “Both of you be safe out there, today. I don’t want to win by default.”

They just nodded their heads and walked off. Over the next half hour almost every driver on the circuit stopped by mine and Beth’s pits to wish us luck. We may not have come to Formula One as respected competitors, but we had won their respect as equals. In the only way and place that it mattered, on the race tracks of the Formula One Circuit with nothing more than their skill, a little luck, and a pair of fast cars. There were still a few diehards among the crowd but neither of us gave a shit about those chauvinistic pigs. We had both learned a long time ago that you can’t please everyone and our give a shit meters were broken around that same time. Well, at least mine was; not too sure about when Beth’s give a shite meter broke, it just is.

With just ten minutes to go for the start of the race Beth stepped into my pit area. I gave her a smile and walked over. “Looks like it’s about time for our last dance of the season sis. Ready to go out with a bang?”

“Sure am.” Beth was as eager as I was to finally get a break from all the globetrotting we’ve been doing. “Though I’m not too happy with having to split up our team just to satisfy the French family.”

“You’re not the only one, Beth. I hate the idea myself, but that is the only way they’re going to let Mercedes into NASCAR. At least they’re letting us decide on who makes the jump.” I sighed. “Best of luck Beth over in NASCAR.”

“What makes you think that you’re the one who is going to be staying?” Beth poked me in the left tit. “We still have fifty-five laps to the end of the race and the season. That is a lot of racing yet to go.”

“We’ll see old lady.” I grinned as she glared at me. she really hated it when I called her old lady. “See you at the finish line, Beth. I’ll be the one in the winner’s circle.”

“Like I said earlier, little sister. There is still a lot of race to go. Be exact, we got fifty-five laps to figure who is the better driver.” Beth turned and stormed out of my pit area while I giggled.

Once I was alone again, I began to think about the race. The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix Circuit was 5.554 km in length, had 21 turns. The race lap record is 1:40.279 held by Germany’s Sebastian Vettel, of Red Bull Racing. He set it in 2009. The Yas Marina Circuit is the venue for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The circuit was designed by Hermann Tilke, and is situated on Yas Island, about 30 minutes from the capital of the UAE, Abu Dhabi. Yas Marina is the second Formula One track in the Middle East, with the first being in Bahrain. The circuit has FIA Grade 1 license.

It is also one of the few counterclockwise tracks. Something that was not in my favor. I always have problems with counterclockwise tracks. I can handle the standard clockwise tracks with no problem. I just don’t know what it is about the counterclockwise tracks they just throw off my timing. I can play whatever type of music I want, and it won’t matter. My timing will be off.

That is one of the reasons I play fast paced music like rock when I race. The heavy beat of the drums lets me time the turns of the tracks. The pounding of the bass lets me judge the lengths of straightaways. The screaming vocals and driving lead guitar calm my nerves as I fight for the next pass. Most drivers have some type of trick to time their approaches and exits for turns. I know that Beth uses her training in dance to time for her timing. I learned a long time ago that you need some type of trick for timing your shifts, braking, and accelerating when racing.

I had turned back to look out at the track. As sad smile came to my face. “Wishing that Kelly was here, kiddo?”

“I wish she could be here mom. But the doctors told us that her last time for traveling was in Mexico. They don’t want her traveling any more, not with her carrying twins. I would rather have her at home where she’s safe with her parents than bouncing around the world following me.” I answered mom while keeping my eyes on the track.

“Still having second thoughts about taking on this track, honey?” Mom asked.

“We both know that I suck on these counterclockwise tracks, mom. I do alright but they’re still my nemesis. I don’t know what it is about these tracks, but they throw off my timing every time.” I bitched.

“I doubt that the counterclockwise tracks are welcomed by the other drivers either. I know that more than a few of them have petitioned to have them removed from the season schedule. Won’t happen though. Too much money is tied up in these tracks to just ignore them.” Mom explained.

“I know that mom. Just because I hate these types of tracks, I doubt the FIA will change the schedule to satisfy me. The one thing these tracks do, more than any of the others, is level the playing field.” I sighed. “Today is going to be all about the skill of the individual driver.”

Mom gave me a funny look then chuckled. “Which is the way that you love it, Bobbie. Please don’t deny it. You live for the times when a race is boiled down to just the pure skill of the driver.”

“Your mom is only telling the truth Bobbie. You and your sister thrive the most during races like this. Especially when there is something more on the line than just pride. You may be our drivers out there on the track today, but long before that you were our daughters. We know what drives you girls.” This time I turned around to see my dad standing there with a smile. “Only for you when you race, there is something more.”

“We know that others have told you this Bobbie. You can only race the Devil’s Bounty Hunter for so long. It doesn’t matter to us if you win or lose. Not in the long run. Just so long as you’re safe.” Mom hugged me tightly. “Now get out there and give it your damnedest to win.”

“Don’t worry about that mom. I’ll never throw a race. Not even for my sister. Oh, I love my sister and all, but not that much.” I smirked.

Mom and dad chuckled at my comment about never throwing a race. Not even for Beth. Then again, they knew how competitive I get behind the wheel of a racecar. Dad patted me on the back. “Okay kiddo, time to get strapped in. Be careful out there and watch your ass.”

“See you all at the finish line. It’ll either be to celebrate or commiserate.” I thought about how that sounded. “Let me rephrase that. To both celebrate and commiserate.”

“We’ll just be celebrating kiddo. We got some interesting news from the bosses back in Germany earlier this morning.” Dad said with a querk of the lips. “Let you know at the finish line kiddo.”

I’ve seen that look on my dad’s face before. I knew that he had something up his sleeve. I should say that mom had something up his sleeve. What that was I had no clue and it was no use trying to pry the information out of them. They won’t talk until they’re ready. They learned how to keep a secret long before Beth was even a glint in dad’s eye.

“I talk to you then. I know better than to try and pry the information out of you. You two have more secrets than the Air America.” I turned and headed for my car. “Time to have fun.”

As I stood next to my car I slipped in my earbuds and pulled on my balaclava. Once I had my gloves and helmet on, I climbed into the cockpit. Danny once again helped me with the safety straps. I hit the play button for my music and signaled Chief Hailee to start the engine. I felt and heard the deep unrelenting rumble of the demon that was the powerplant come to life once more. As much as I wanted to unleash all that power out there today. I knew that I won’t be able to. There is only one problem.

This track didn’t lend itself to uncontrolled power. I would only be able to use about 45% of that power throughout the majority of the track. There are only two places on this track that will allow me to open up the powerplant, the two straightaways. The tight turns and narrow track surface would force me to hold back on the throttle.

I rolled out right next to Beth in eighth place on the starting grid. We did our best to qualify higher, but this is where we ended up. Beth in seventh place and me in eighth place. Not that is mattered in the long run. We just had to hold our own until the last half of the race. We would have anywhere between 18 to 25 pit stops in the next 55 laps. This is one time where those pit stops will come into play. As we take our warmup lap, I stretch my senses to their limits. I know that we have had what most would consider plenty of practice this last week. But I could have done with another two to three practice sessions. As we round the final corner and line up, I know that today is going to be a knock down drag out fight to the finish.

The track is nasty slick in the turns, especially in the 90 degree turns and the one hairpin of turn seven. Even with all the rubber build up over the week the track has gone slick. I should have expected this to happen. I felt it going away during my last Qualifying run. But I didn’t pay attention the way that I should have. I key my mike as we pull to a stop.

“Chief Hailee, when I come in for my first stop, I want four of our hardest tires. The track is already starting to go away. There is way too much rubber build up out here on this track today.”

“I hear you Bobbie. Are you sure you want to go with a harder set of tires?” I thought about what Chief Hailee was asking.

“Yeah I’m sure Chief. By the time we come in for our first stop the track will have eaten away most of our tires out here. That’ll clean up most of the lose rubber out there and bring the track back to race trim.” I explained.

“Gotcha, kiddo. Full set of hard balls. You want the pressure high or low?”

“We’ll start off low Chief and work our way up. I got a nasty feeling that for the first fifteen to twenty laps all our tires are going to be doing is cleaning the track. I’m expecting at least one spinout in those twenty laps.” I knew that I was showing off, but that was just the feel I got from the warmup lap. I felt my rear end wanting to slide out from under me in almost every turn out there. Especially the number seven hairpin turn.

There are twenty-one turns on this track and thirteen of them are ninety-degree nasty sons-of-bitches. The first of which is straight out the gate in turn one at the end of the start/finish straightaway. This is the start of sector one and the easiest part of the track. At least as far as I was concerned. With the exception of turn one, I can handle this sector in my sleep. It is a lot like Old Millers Road back home. A road that I’ve taken to school every day for the last two years of high school. Most of the gearheads back home could race this sector blindfolded.

The Christmas tree flashed yellow letting me know that I needed to get my head in the game. I peddled the throttle revving the engine. I watched as the lights flashed green and took off hard. I was right on Beth’s rear end as she dove into turn one. As I exited out of turn one and headed for turn two the opening sounds of Radar Rider by Riggs fill my ears.

I start to giggle. It seems that Kelly left me with a surprise. She’s been filling my iPod with the soundtracks to movies lately. This song is just the latest example, as it is the opening song for the 1981 classic, Heavy Metal. This isn’t the first time Kelly has uploaded a movie soundtrack to my iPod in the race mix category. In Auston she loaded up the soundtrack to Top Gun and Maximum Overdrive on me. I wonder what other soundtrack she uploaded for me today. Not that it’ll matter. So long as there is a steady driving beat it’ll help me keep my timing.

For the three laps I listen to the sounds of Radar Rider. As I round turn 7 in the 12th lap Judas Priest’s Turbo Love begin to play. I also spot my first chance at an overtake. Beth went too wide in the hairpin turn. I’ll have to time it just right on the next lap. As it stands right now that will be my only chance. Beth is just too damned good. With each turn and straightaway Beth’s skill behind the wheel is proven.

I smile to myself as I fight to get into position for the pass. I can’t believe just how good Beth has gotten over the last year. Then again, she isn’t the only one to have improved. Driving against the professionals of the Formula One Circuit has forced me to step up my game with every race. I don’t care who you are. You drive against these men and you have no choice but to improve your skills. The reverse of that is also true. The better you get the better they get as well.

You just have to look at the six drivers in front of us. At the beginning of the season with the exception of Reichenbach and McNairy none of them would have placed this high. With the exception of me and Beth they are the four youngest drivers on the circuit. Those four young men have increased their skills by leaps and bounds. And between them and Beth I’ll have my hands full. It’s going to take a lot of luck to win today.

As I come on turn 14, I see my first piece of good luck. Jose Denali spins out and slides off the track. The fact his bad luck is our good luck doesn’t play into the matter. This is racing. And in racing you’re either the winner or one of the losers. And today there will be nineteen losers and one winner. With one out of the top four drivers walking away with the championship cup. Hopefully that one will be me.

“Heads up Bobbie. On the next lap I want you to come in for your first pitstop. I know that’s early, but I doubt that your tires are going to hold their grip for much longer.” I knew what Chief Hailee was talking about before he even made the call. I was going to call for a pitstop at the end of this lap anyway so saw no need in correcting him.

“They’ve already started going south, Chief. It’s worse than I first guessed. The track is eating our tires like a starving fat man at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. Also, we need to raise the stabilizers and wings for better downforce control in the turns. Most of them are getting tighter with each lap.” I answered back. Giving him a better idea of what I needed to try and win this race or at least place high enough to win the championship.

“We can give you the new tires just fine. But we go making those adjustments to the stabilizers and wings we’ll lose too much time. This is one time we need to take grip and handling over speed.”

Damn he was right. This track lends itself more to a race between the drivers’ skills. I’ll just have to do my best with what he can give me. “Give me what you can Chief. I’ll do my best.”

“Standby for the count.” Chief Hailee called out as I rounded turn 10. I knew that I had to hit my marks dead on and concentrated. “Ready. Mark.”

I heard Chief Hailee calling out the turns along with keeping the countdown going. I continued to smile as I entered pit road. I hit the pit dead on the money. I had no sooner stopped than I felt the car bounce into the air. At 1.98 seconds I felt the car hit the ground and the front jackman move out of the way. I floored the accelerator and sped out my pit.

I knew that I had to get back out on the track as fast as possible. Time was not on my side during this race. The sad truth was nothing was on my side today. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’ll need all the luck I can get today. As I exit pit road the sounds of Iron Maiden’s The Trooper pounded in my ears. The driving bass, screaming lead guitar, blasting drums, and grabbing vocals are all I need to hear. There is no way that I’ll back down now. It’s just the song to pull me out of my slump.

“Slow it down Bobbie. You can’t take those turns at that speed.” Kathy warned me over the radio.

“Don’t worry about me, Kathy. I can handle this track. I got the feel for it now. I just have to finish figuring out the timing.” I told her.

“If that is the case. I’ll start a counting for you. Ready? Here we go.” For the next four laps Kathy kept a steady count. With each lap I was able to pick up a little more speed. Then on lap twenty in turn 21 everything changed. Three of the cars at the back of the pack lost control. The wreck put the entire track under yellow flag conditions. Even as I closed up with the rest of the lead cars that there was now no way to move up through them.

At least without a massive piece of good luck. It won’t matter how it comes. I’m going to need every trick in the book plus a few that aren’t even written yet to win today. I followed everyone into pit road for fresh tires and adjustments to their stabilizers and wings. This time I got the needed adjustments. I passed one of the cars that had been in front of me in the pits. Talk about good luck. The man stalled his engine and his pit crew wasn’t ready for the possibility.

It took a total of two more laps before we were ready to go back to green. I lined up behind the rest and took a final lap around the track. We lined up for the green flag and when it came, I dropped the hammer. I had my timing down now. All thanks to Kathy’s counting. I dive in hard on turn 1 cutting Beth off before she can do the same to me. I know that she won’t like it, but that is racing. Nothing more, nothing less. She understands that.

For the next twelve laps I fight my way through the lead cars into the third position. I know that I shouldn’t get cocky, but they’ve all been leaving me chances for the overtake at almost every turn for the last four laps. It’s like they can’t hold their grip turn for some reason. I keyed my mike. “Kathy is it me or are the other drivers losing their grip in the turns?”

“I would have to say that they’re losing grip. There are too many cars sliding around out there.” She went quiet on the radio for a second. “Yup, the cars at the back of the pack are starting to make their pitstops.”

Chief Hailee was right behind her. “Starting your countdown now Bobbie. Four fresh tires on the stop.”

I listened to his orders and waited for the signal to hit the pits. As I round turn 20, I spot the entrance to pit road. I knew that I would have to hit my marks or screw the pooch. I hit all of my marks, dead on. I pulled into my pit and felt the car bounce into the air. Two seconds later I was down and, on my way, back out onto the track. It didn’t take me long to get back up to race speeds as I rounded turn 1. I knew that I had only nine more laps to do something if I wanted to win this race.

At lap fifty-one I knew that my luck has finally run out. I heard something from the powerplant that no driver wants to hear. Something back there let go, and I was starting to lose power. Keying my mike, I called out to Chief Hailee. “Chief, I got some bad news.”

“I can already see the smoke, kiddo. No need to apologize. These things happen. It’s racing at its worse. Can you limp her back in?”

“I should be able to bring in. I got enough power for that, anyway. It feels like I dropped one or two of the cylinders. I just know that I’m losing power and slowing down with each turn.” I told him. “Looks like we get to make the jump to NASCAR Chief. I hope you got a plan for the new competition.”

“I’ll figure something out kiddo. We always do.” Chief Hailee chuckled then swore up a storm when I felt something else let go. “Ah shit! What else just broke Bobbie? I can tell because you just lost a lot of speed.”

He was right and there was no way I was going to be able to get the car back to the pits. Pulling over to the outside line of the back straightaway I came to a stop. “Call out the wrecker Chief. The car is done.”

I watched as Beth roared passed me at almost full speed. She was followed by the rest of the field. As I was unstrapping from the seat the yellow flag came out. By the time I climbed out of the cockpit the wrecker had shown. I had to give it to these guys. They had my car hooked up and ready to roll out in two minutes. They even gave me a lift back to the pits.

I climbed out of the wrecker with a smile. “Sorry, about this, guys. It looks like either McNairy or Reichenbach will take to checkered flag today.”

“This is one time that there was nothing you could do Bobbie.” I turned to Danny who was already pulling the engine cowling off the car. “You can see where the block cracked under the heat.”

“Then something else had to give for that to happen.” Chief Hailee said as he walked over to the car. As he looked inside, he spotted the problem right away. “The oil pump let go.”

“Is it sabotage or just bad luck, Chief?” I asked him.

“This is nothing more than bad luck, Bobbie.” Chief Hailee sighed. “We’ve had one hell of a run for a bunch of rookies.”

“Yeah, that we have Chief. I just wish we could have gone out with a win.” I bitched. I would have said more but Danny said something to grab my attention. Along with everyone else’s in the pit.

“Ah shit. Looks like Beth needs the wrecker now. Yup, she blew her engine as well. Almost in the same place.” Danny turned to face his dad. “Dad, when Beth’s car gets here, I think we need to take a look at the engine block.”

“What do you think is going on Danny boy?” Chief Hailee asked.

“If both blocks are cracked, I got a funny feeling that more than the oil pumps let go. Not with the way that the block cracked in Bobbie’s engine.” Danny was showing his father that he had been learning.

“If that is the case then we need to look at the actual engine material construction. If they’re cracking like you believe we have a real problem.” Chief Hailee got a thoughtful look in his eyes. “We may have to go back to the drawing board and metallurgy labs to find an answer.”

“I hate to say this Chief. But I can tell you right now that is what needs to happen. This is the second time, no, third time that these engine blocks have gone tits up on us. We’ve always known that the engines were experimental from the start. I’m just glad they last for the season.” I smirked.

“Um… I hate to say this Bobbie. But those aren’t the engine blocks we started the season with. We change those out before we reached Montreal, Canada.” I gave Danny a funny look. “Yeah those old engine blocks were already wearing out. Chief Marks knew those experimental engine blocks won’t last back then. don’t ask me how he knew, he just did.”

“God. You’re such a dumbass at times, Danny. How can you even claim to be my son?” Chief Hailee sighed. “Boy, there are times when I just want to pound you. Chief Marks has decades on you.”

The face palm was almost a forgone conclusion. “Ah man. He has the experience that none of us have yet. Is that it?”

“About time you figured it out boy.” Chief Hailee chuckled. “But it is more than just his experience. He also has something else. He has his education.”

Chief Hailee was interrupted in his impromptu class by the arrival of the wreck with Beth, and her car. I could tell by the look on her face, that Beth was beyond pissed. Her first words as she hopped out of the truck just confirmed my suspicion. “What hell happened to my fucking engine?!”

“Chill the fuck out sis. It was nobody’s fault. This is one time where the problem lies with something none of us could see. Now, drop the attitude.” I snapped. I wasn’t going to let her bring down the rest of the team with her pissy attitude. Regardless of where we place in the championship.

Beth took a step back at my sudden burst of anger. She sighed. “Okay, Bobbie.”

As Beth joined us over by my car, she got the first whiff of burnt oil. I watched as a look of disgust crossed her face. “Damn. Here I thought that mine was the only one to drop a cylinder.”

“Nope. Why do you think I pulled over when I did?” I demanded.

Beth gave a sly smile then shrugged her shoulders. “I figured that you had given up in the face of my overwhelming superiority and skills.”

Tossing her a one finger salute I told her with a smile. “Bite me.”

“Enough girls.” We both turned to see mom and dad standing a few feet away. Dad had his usual quirky smile. He looked over at both cars. “Looks like those new engines didn’t last as long as we hoped, Jewels.”

“They lasted longer than I expected, Bob. Not that they did our girls any good.” Mom sighed. “I’m sorry kids. I know that you had your hopes set on winning the championship. This is all our fault.”

“Mom, this is one time that I doubt any of us could have planned for. It was nothing more than racing at its finest.” I gave mom a quick hug then did the same for dad. I turned to Beth smiling. “Looks like you get to stay Beth.”

“I don’t think either of you girls will be staying in Formula One.” Mom said with more conviction than I’ve ever heard her use. “You also won’t be going over to NASCAR.”

When I heard this my heart fell. “At least we gave it a hell of a run.”

“Yeah. It would have been nice to place one of those trophy cups in the family business.” Beth sighed.

“It is a shame that your season ended the way that it did, Miss McGuire.” Beth and I both turned to find Mister Benz standing in my pit area. “You young ladies have put on quite the show this year.”

“Very true. They did a marvelous job for such novice drivers. No offence ladies. But you were rookies to Formula One.” It must have been the glare on my face that caused Mister Mercedes to back pedal. The fact that it was just the two of them here means something is up. Wherever the COWS are they’re still obeying mom’s orders to stay out of the pits. “The sport shall truly be a much dimmer place without you ladies.”

“Wait a minute. I thought only one of us was making the jump to NASCAR?” I questioned them both sharply.

“What do you know of the International Stockcar Association?” Mercedes asked with more than a little smirk. At our looks of confusion, the man went on to explain. “That is where you and your sister shall be next year, Roberta.”

“Okay just what the hell is the International Stockcar Association?” I asked for all of us. “Are there even enough NASCAR style tracks around the world for a league of that scale?”

“Thanks to a deal between the American Automotive Manufactures, the France family, and most of the European automotive companies we do now.” Benz began to explain. “NASCAR has agreed to the use of four of the seven super speedways and four of the regular US speedways. With those eight tracks and the more notable ovals in other countries such as Rafaela in Argentina, Motegi in Japan, Lausitzring in Germany, the Calder Park Thunderdome in Australia, Brooklands and Rockingham in the United Kingdom, Monza in Italy, and Montlhéry in France. That gives us a total of sixteen tracks for Stockcar style racing around the world. Even now the few European tracks that aren’t up to standard are being resurfaced. Thankfully the first race for the new league is on February the twenty-ninth at the Talladega Super Speedway.”

“Wait. Are saying that those France family assholes finally gave the go ahead for an international Stockcar league? That we’re going to racing in a totally new league? How many drivers and teams are there going to be in the league? Do we get to take our pit crews with us? Will we be following the NASCAR Monster Energy rules? Will there be ‘restrictor plate racing’? You know like NASCAR has at places like Talladega and Daytona?” Beth’s rapid-fire questions had the two men’s heads spinning.

I started laughing right along with the rest of the team. None of us had really liked the idea of splitting up the teams. Now, that we know that won’t be happening we all set to make the jump to a new league. It will also be a return to our roots as it were. After all, we come from what some consider the heartland of NASCAR. Hell, there is even a song about Darlington County and the life that we live there.

I only had one question for the two men. “Will we get the chance to dance with the Lady in Black?”

My one question had everyone in our pits coming to a dead quiet. They like me was waiting with bated breath for one of the men to answer. Only it wasn’t Benz or Mercedes that answered my question. “I look forward to seeing what you can do on your home speedway, Miss McGuire.”

I spun around on my heel to find my least favorite Formula One Marshal standing there. “What does that mean Mister Limpet? You making the jump as well?”

“I and a few of the other Marshals shall be joining you and your sister in the new league.” The man chuckled. “I had come by to give my condolences on not finishing the race today. I wasn’t expecting to find your teams practically celebrating. I know that the other two teams who will be joining you are definitely not looking forward to the new league.”

“Mister Limpet, you wouldn’t happen to know why they’re not looking to make the transfer to the league?” Dad asked him bluntly.

“Mr. McGuire the reason is simple. They are not looking forward to learning a new way of driving. We all know that oval track racing takes a totally deferent set of skills. And they do not like the fact that they will be considered rookie drivers in the new league.” The more Limpet talked the more I wanted to know.

“How many drivers will there be in total, sir?” Beth asked him quickly.

“We will have four drivers from Formula One, four from Indy, five from the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series, five from the Xfinity Series, three from the Gander Outdoors Truck Series, three from the NASCAR K&N Pro Series East, two from the West, five from NASCAR’s Pinty's Series, and five from NASCAR’s Whelen Euro Series. To be honest, we’re surprised to have such a large number of drivers from other auto-sports making the transfer to such a new sport. I would never have thought that we could have gathered thirty-six professional drivers in our first year.” I was shocked at Limpet’s honesty. I stood there thinking about what the man just said and smirked.

“They’re racers, sir. You’re giving them the chance at racing on new tracks. Of course! They’ll jump to make the transition to a new league.” I pointed out for the poor man. The man’s lack of understanding was almost pathetic. “Just like my sister and me, those other drivers want to prove themselves on a bigger and grander platform. Racers will always push themselves. To find the next great challenge to their skills.”

“Sir, you have to understand racers are a breed a part. The need for speed is just something you learn to live with when it comes to them. That and the fact that on the whole they’re all nothing more than a bunch of adrenaline junkies.” Mom smirked as she placed her arm across my shoulder. Then looked down at me. “You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“No.” I answered bluntly.

“Time to go back to the drawing board. We got less than three months to build and test six NASCAR legal Stockcars.” The moment mom explained for us. “Two of which need to be setup for the Super Speedways, two for Speedways, and finally two that can handle the short tracks.”

“You will only need four cars Mrs. McGuire. The new league will only feature the oval tracks that are a mile and half at the smallest. The league will be staying away from the ‘bullpen’ style racing tracks.” Limpet was giving out more information than he should. The only teams in the new league that would be able to do more with the information was the 13 teams from the three US NASCAR premium leagues. There was something bothering about his willingness to share all of this information all of a sudden.

“Mr. Limpet, I hate to say this, but you’re acting awfully fishy right now. What gives? Why you sharing all this information?”

“I see no reason to not give you what is already known by the other teams. Besides we want all of the teams to be on an equal footing.” He answered with a smile. “Besides it would all come out shortly. If you’ll forgive me. I have a few inspections yet to make today. Good luck McGuires.”

With that the man walked away. I turned to Mercedes and Benz. “What will happen with the guys that already setup to race in NASCAR back home?”

“They’ll be staying in the original NASCAR leagues. We have abandoned the goal of having a winning team there. Just as we will not be abandoning our endeavors in Formula One. You need not worry about your friends in the Darlington Knights. They are even now testing their S-class chassis. From the reports that we’ve received. Those cars along with their drivers are going to be turning heads next year.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. MY sponsors, the PEOPLE I introduced the Knights, were routing for them to take the lead in a sport league that I wanted to race in.

Then again. I was about to become one the inaugural drivers in a totally new sport. I looked over at the rest of the team. “Looks like we got our marching orders guys. Time to go conquer a new and unknown sport.”

“We need to do more than just conquer the new sport, Bobbie.” Mom said with a grin. “We need to crush the competition and dominate the ISCRA.”

“The what?” I asked her with head cocked.

“The International Stock Car Racing Association.” Mom answered with a smile. As if the answer was as clear as the nose on my face. “But you’re right. Time to head for home people. Let’s get those cars loaded and the rest of our gear. We got three months to build four cars and retrain for a totally different style of racing.”

“You got that right mom.” Beth chuckled. Then looked over at me. “Been a longtime since we last danced on an oval track, baby sister. Remember how?”

I just smiled and gave her the universal one finger salute. “I don’t know about you Beth. But I’m looking forward to dancing three wide at over one-ninety in turn four at Talladega. What about you?”

“Let’s just say that next year is going to be fun.” Beth smirked.

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This ends the first book in the story of Bobbie McGuire and MDRI. Look for their return next year.