Page 68
Story: Black Flag
That was the soundJameson’s sprint car was making right then.
I’d always been partialto it as it was a thunderous throaty sound. I’m sure you can appreciate my lovefor it once you’ve heard it. It’s unlike any other sound. Just the same as asprint car, there was nothing else like those fire-breathing, highpower-to-weight rockets. I think that’s why Jameson enjoyed them so much. Theywere different; just like him.
The crowed, some fivethousand fans, roared to life when they spotted Jameson approaching the grassin front of the stands. He stood there for a moment, smiling at the announcerwho climbed down from his tower to interview Jameson.
Tommy and I laughed.The women in attendance made their way front and center. Jameson, being thehumble version of himself he was around his fans, smiled and waved to them.
“Do you recognize thiskid?” the track announcer spouted off enticing the crowd further. “He’s a superstar these days!”
Jameson shook his headand pulled the microphone to his lips. “I think you have me confused withsomeone else. You guys can’t possibly be this excited to see a kid from ElmaWashington.”
That did it. It nowsounded like a rock concert.
Most thought that asprint car racer would be from the Midwest but no, the Riley family was raisedin the Northwest. Sure they spent a lot of time traveling but Jimi and Nancydid that by design. They wanted their kids to grow up in a small town.
Tommy and I got anothergood chuckle. Back in the day when he used to race here, he got cheers butnothing like this.
Jameson’s arms hungloosely on his hips as he watched the crowd with curiosity and amusement totheir reactions to him; a small town boy made out to be some sort of mythicalcreature. You could see the sweat pouring from him in his dark racing suit, thetop half-pulled down around his waist.
“So Jameson Riley...” the crowd screamed again. “You made itout to old Summerville. Is this heat from you?” the announcer taunted the crowdfurther.
“Nah,” Jameson smiledtoward a group of girls. He knew how to work them when needed. Shit, look at meall knocked up and sweaty. I was proof of that. “It must be the...” he eyed the girls again. “...the homegrown.”
They went into anabsolute frenzy. Like I said, he could work it when needed and I knew that wasall he was doing. He meant nothing by the gesture.
“How are you feelingafter that wreck in Pocono?”
“I feel great.” Hewasn’t about to tell him that his wrist aches at night or he can hardly catchhis breath from the lung injury, or that he had double vision at times which herefused to tell the doctors or NASCAR about but he was feeling good because hewas back.
We could hardly hearwhat they were saying with the women surrounding him so we made our way backover to the sprint car hauler. Justin and Tyler huddled around their carsscraping clay and laughing.
Justin’s girlfriend,Ami, smiled toward me. “How are you feeling?”
Kicking a few rocksfree from my shoes I was forced to wear in the pits, I answered with my usualsmile when I thought about the life between Jameson and I growing inside me.“Good.”
“Morningsickness yet?”
“Oh yeah, nearly everymorning, afternoon and night,”
Tommy nudged the smallamount of cushion that had grown on my sides these past few weeks. “It lookslike you’ve beenmakin’ up for it though.”
“Ignore him,” Amikicked Tommy in the ass. He jerked back to dodge her, his feet skidding alongwith the layer of dirt inside the hauler. “You look beautiful.”
Ami Lewis was about assweet as the tea in these parts. With her golden blonde hair, usually in wavylayers, and her eyes were as bright as her personality. I adored her not onlybecause she reminded me of one real full-grown Gerber baby, but she wasn’t init for the fame with Justin.
Being a World of Outlawdriver, he too had his fair share of pit lizards but Ami was far from that andgood people in my book.
“How’s Jameson doingnow?”
Ami and I sat down onthe edge of the hauler ramp watching the guys get the cars ready. “Cranky whenthings don’t go his way but he’s healing since the accident,” My gaze over thecars fell on Jameson walking toward us. “He’d never say it, but I think he isstill not feeling that well...buthe’s managing. I think it’s more of him being angry that it happened in thefirst place.”
Ami seemed tounderstand and let me vent a little to her. It wasn’t like I needed to vent,but she also understand the frustrations that follow when your other half is aracer. They kept so much hidden underneath that helmet at times it was hard toget through it. She knew that.
“You’re really greatfor him.” I told Ami motioning to Justin just as Tommy smacked him in the gutwith a spare shock when he saw Justin trying to adjust something on the engine.
“He’s pretty special tome.” Ami beamed looking over at him.
“Hey Ami,” Jamesonbumped into her shoulder. “When did you get here?”
I’d always been partialto it as it was a thunderous throaty sound. I’m sure you can appreciate my lovefor it once you’ve heard it. It’s unlike any other sound. Just the same as asprint car, there was nothing else like those fire-breathing, highpower-to-weight rockets. I think that’s why Jameson enjoyed them so much. Theywere different; just like him.
The crowed, some fivethousand fans, roared to life when they spotted Jameson approaching the grassin front of the stands. He stood there for a moment, smiling at the announcerwho climbed down from his tower to interview Jameson.
Tommy and I laughed.The women in attendance made their way front and center. Jameson, being thehumble version of himself he was around his fans, smiled and waved to them.
“Do you recognize thiskid?” the track announcer spouted off enticing the crowd further. “He’s a superstar these days!”
Jameson shook his headand pulled the microphone to his lips. “I think you have me confused withsomeone else. You guys can’t possibly be this excited to see a kid from ElmaWashington.”
That did it. It nowsounded like a rock concert.
Most thought that asprint car racer would be from the Midwest but no, the Riley family was raisedin the Northwest. Sure they spent a lot of time traveling but Jimi and Nancydid that by design. They wanted their kids to grow up in a small town.
Tommy and I got anothergood chuckle. Back in the day when he used to race here, he got cheers butnothing like this.
Jameson’s arms hungloosely on his hips as he watched the crowd with curiosity and amusement totheir reactions to him; a small town boy made out to be some sort of mythicalcreature. You could see the sweat pouring from him in his dark racing suit, thetop half-pulled down around his waist.
“So Jameson Riley...” the crowd screamed again. “You made itout to old Summerville. Is this heat from you?” the announcer taunted the crowdfurther.
“Nah,” Jameson smiledtoward a group of girls. He knew how to work them when needed. Shit, look at meall knocked up and sweaty. I was proof of that. “It must be the...” he eyed the girls again. “...the homegrown.”
They went into anabsolute frenzy. Like I said, he could work it when needed and I knew that wasall he was doing. He meant nothing by the gesture.
“How are you feelingafter that wreck in Pocono?”
“I feel great.” Hewasn’t about to tell him that his wrist aches at night or he can hardly catchhis breath from the lung injury, or that he had double vision at times which herefused to tell the doctors or NASCAR about but he was feeling good because hewas back.
We could hardly hearwhat they were saying with the women surrounding him so we made our way backover to the sprint car hauler. Justin and Tyler huddled around their carsscraping clay and laughing.
Justin’s girlfriend,Ami, smiled toward me. “How are you feeling?”
Kicking a few rocksfree from my shoes I was forced to wear in the pits, I answered with my usualsmile when I thought about the life between Jameson and I growing inside me.“Good.”
“Morningsickness yet?”
“Oh yeah, nearly everymorning, afternoon and night,”
Tommy nudged the smallamount of cushion that had grown on my sides these past few weeks. “It lookslike you’ve beenmakin’ up for it though.”
“Ignore him,” Amikicked Tommy in the ass. He jerked back to dodge her, his feet skidding alongwith the layer of dirt inside the hauler. “You look beautiful.”
Ami Lewis was about assweet as the tea in these parts. With her golden blonde hair, usually in wavylayers, and her eyes were as bright as her personality. I adored her not onlybecause she reminded me of one real full-grown Gerber baby, but she wasn’t init for the fame with Justin.
Being a World of Outlawdriver, he too had his fair share of pit lizards but Ami was far from that andgood people in my book.
“How’s Jameson doingnow?”
Ami and I sat down onthe edge of the hauler ramp watching the guys get the cars ready. “Cranky whenthings don’t go his way but he’s healing since the accident,” My gaze over thecars fell on Jameson walking toward us. “He’d never say it, but I think he isstill not feeling that well...buthe’s managing. I think it’s more of him being angry that it happened in thefirst place.”
Ami seemed tounderstand and let me vent a little to her. It wasn’t like I needed to vent,but she also understand the frustrations that follow when your other half is aracer. They kept so much hidden underneath that helmet at times it was hard toget through it. She knew that.
“You’re really greatfor him.” I told Ami motioning to Justin just as Tommy smacked him in the gutwith a spare shock when he saw Justin trying to adjust something on the engine.
“He’s pretty special tome.” Ami beamed looking over at him.
“Hey Ami,” Jamesonbumped into her shoulder. “When did you get here?”
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