Page 67
Story: Black Flag
Not only that, but Iwas pregnant and heat seemed to be something I was producing now. I felt like Iwas a heater. So you add that, the blistering haze outside, no air conditioningand Jameson touching me too much and I wasn’t real happy by the time we made itto this sauna they called Summerville South Carolina. Oh, and the humiditytoday was something like 100%.
Stepping from the car,the heat felt like an inferno. In a state full of mountains, swamps andbeaches, all I saw here was heat and clay.
“At least it doesn’tsmell like cow shit.”
I sniffed and nearlythrew up. “And a paper mill is better?”
“It’s not shit.”
He had a point. Ilooked around, reminded of the way it was out here. Just like an old worncountry road and overgrown wheat fields, the town was homegrown.
Lathering myself inungodly amounts of sunscreen, Jameson reached behind the seat for his bag thatheld his Simplex driving suit, a few spare t-shirts, his black Puma racingshoes he couldn’t race without, and his helmet.
His eyes lit up whenJustin and Tommy approached. Laughter on the other side of the haulers drew myattention toward a group of girls.
Pit lizards. They hadthem here too.
With a quick kiss,Jameson left me alone and headed toward the registration booth with Justin andTommy.
An hour passed as theboys setting up the cars and after a few hot laps I found myself in the pitbleachers waiting for Jameson’s heat race.
Tommy dropped downbeside me. His greeting, “What’s up fat girl?”
“Nice...” my leg mindlessly kicked his shin. “Isee your hair is just as bright as the last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well.” He leanedback resting his elbows on the bench behind us before stretching his legs outin front, his boots coated with the thick red clay from the south. “Melaniedoesn’t seem to mind my hair.”
“Ohyeah?”I grinned seeing my opportunity to make fun of him too. “Still seeing pussycatdoll, eh? What is that, some kind of dating record for you?”
His orange eyebrowsraised and his forehead resembled asharpeipuppy with wrinkles, “Pussycatdoll?”
“Never mind,”
“Actually, I only spentone night with her.” Tommy confessed. “It’s not like I’m in Pocono all thatoften.”
“Yeah, this lifestyledoesn’t lend well to relationships, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Tommylaughed bringing his water to his mouth. “But I’m not looking for one. I likethis, helping Jameson.”
“He appreciates it.”
Our attention driftedto the track when the cars roared past for the start of their ten-lap heat.Jameson started in the rear with the inversion, quickly picking off the firsttwo cars by the third lap.
Tommy sighed. “I can’tbelieve he can race stock cars the way he does and then come out here and dothis like he never left dirt.” His water bottle tipped toward Jameson whobroad-sliding past Cody Bowman for second. The cloud of dirt created by thecars shifted our direction along with the breeze of methanol.
With the amount ofsunscreen and sweat on my body, the dirt clung to me like I was one of thoselint rollers.
“So...” Tommy smiled toward me when they threwthe checkered flag. Jameson had won his heat with Justin finishing second followedby Tyler and a few local guys. “He knocked you up huh?”
I shook my head as Istood attempting to rub some of the dirt from my black tank top and jeanshorts. “You’re so subtle.”
Jameson stopped hissprint car in front of the flag stand. The engine ran lean as he ran it out ofgas to turn the engine off. Winged spring cars were completely different from astock car. The biggest difference is their direct drive.
You don’t just start asprint car by turning a key. They’re push started to turn the engine over.
The process, once thedriver was inside the tiny cockpit, was simple but complicated to someone whohas never been inside one. First, he places the engine in gear with directcable link called the coupler to the rear end that engages the gear. Then heturns on the fuel, a switch usually located near the steering wheel and he’spushed off by a push truck. With their high compression ratios, it takes a goodpush to get the rear tires turning. Being direct driver, once all four wheelsare turning the engine can turn over. Once the oil pressure was around 80psi,the driver fires the engine.
When they shut themoff, they take it out of gear and turn the fuel valve off. As the engine runsout of fuel it will run lean causing the revolutions to build before the engineis switched off.
Stepping from the car,the heat felt like an inferno. In a state full of mountains, swamps andbeaches, all I saw here was heat and clay.
“At least it doesn’tsmell like cow shit.”
I sniffed and nearlythrew up. “And a paper mill is better?”
“It’s not shit.”
He had a point. Ilooked around, reminded of the way it was out here. Just like an old worncountry road and overgrown wheat fields, the town was homegrown.
Lathering myself inungodly amounts of sunscreen, Jameson reached behind the seat for his bag thatheld his Simplex driving suit, a few spare t-shirts, his black Puma racingshoes he couldn’t race without, and his helmet.
His eyes lit up whenJustin and Tommy approached. Laughter on the other side of the haulers drew myattention toward a group of girls.
Pit lizards. They hadthem here too.
With a quick kiss,Jameson left me alone and headed toward the registration booth with Justin andTommy.
An hour passed as theboys setting up the cars and after a few hot laps I found myself in the pitbleachers waiting for Jameson’s heat race.
Tommy dropped downbeside me. His greeting, “What’s up fat girl?”
“Nice...” my leg mindlessly kicked his shin. “Isee your hair is just as bright as the last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well.” He leanedback resting his elbows on the bench behind us before stretching his legs outin front, his boots coated with the thick red clay from the south. “Melaniedoesn’t seem to mind my hair.”
“Ohyeah?”I grinned seeing my opportunity to make fun of him too. “Still seeing pussycatdoll, eh? What is that, some kind of dating record for you?”
His orange eyebrowsraised and his forehead resembled asharpeipuppy with wrinkles, “Pussycatdoll?”
“Never mind,”
“Actually, I only spentone night with her.” Tommy confessed. “It’s not like I’m in Pocono all thatoften.”
“Yeah, this lifestyledoesn’t lend well to relationships, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Tommylaughed bringing his water to his mouth. “But I’m not looking for one. I likethis, helping Jameson.”
“He appreciates it.”
Our attention driftedto the track when the cars roared past for the start of their ten-lap heat.Jameson started in the rear with the inversion, quickly picking off the firsttwo cars by the third lap.
Tommy sighed. “I can’tbelieve he can race stock cars the way he does and then come out here and dothis like he never left dirt.” His water bottle tipped toward Jameson whobroad-sliding past Cody Bowman for second. The cloud of dirt created by thecars shifted our direction along with the breeze of methanol.
With the amount ofsunscreen and sweat on my body, the dirt clung to me like I was one of thoselint rollers.
“So...” Tommy smiled toward me when they threwthe checkered flag. Jameson had won his heat with Justin finishing second followedby Tyler and a few local guys. “He knocked you up huh?”
I shook my head as Istood attempting to rub some of the dirt from my black tank top and jeanshorts. “You’re so subtle.”
Jameson stopped hissprint car in front of the flag stand. The engine ran lean as he ran it out ofgas to turn the engine off. Winged spring cars were completely different from astock car. The biggest difference is their direct drive.
You don’t just start asprint car by turning a key. They’re push started to turn the engine over.
The process, once thedriver was inside the tiny cockpit, was simple but complicated to someone whohas never been inside one. First, he places the engine in gear with directcable link called the coupler to the rear end that engages the gear. Then heturns on the fuel, a switch usually located near the steering wheel and he’spushed off by a push truck. With their high compression ratios, it takes a goodpush to get the rear tires turning. Being direct driver, once all four wheelsare turning the engine can turn over. Once the oil pressure was around 80psi,the driver fires the engine.
When they shut themoff, they take it out of gear and turn the fuel valve off. As the engine runsout of fuel it will run lean causing the revolutions to build before the engineis switched off.
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