The Legend (23 page)

The volume
exploded when they appeared from the smoke, music pulsed as the team received
recognition they deserved for being selected.

Casten was
all grins, with a flashy walk. I couldn’t have been a prouder Mama Wizard as I
was in that moment of my little diligent spaz. Thankfully it appeared Cole
hadn’t fucked anything up yet and wouldn’t be stabbed later. Casten apparently
had a lot riding on this.

“Oh jeez,
he really has that walk down.” Jimi noted watching Casten bend down and shake
the money in the faces of the fans and then threw it in the air, laughing, like
a crazy kid.

I watched
Jameson, his eyes examining the crowd but seemed amused by his son. His eyes
soon found mine in the crowd. He winked and darted his eyes to Casten quickly
and returned to mine with an eye roll. Shrugging was the only answer I could
provide for him.

After my
son pimped his way off stage, they introduced each driver to the fans and their
crew members. Spencer was missing though and it felt strange for us all to be
here without him.

“Why isn’t
Spencer here?” I asked Alley. “I mean, I know he just had knee surgery but I
thought he’d at least be here with a bottle of pills to annoy Jameson.”

Alley
laughed. “He just sent me a message. He’s on his way. He originally thought
he’d be in too much pain but you know him.” She motioned to Jameson making his
way off stage and shaking hands with each member of his crew and patting their
backs. “Spencer would never miss a race of Jameson’s.”

It was
true. He never missed a Cup race,
ever
. In the six hundred and seventy
two races he started in the number nine Ford, Spencer was there to raise the
window net for him.

A part of
me wasn’t sure how Jameson would handle it. He said he didn’t like his family
often but when they weren’t around, Jameson wasn’t the same.

Alley
nudged me again about the time they were finished introducing the twenty-four
teams. “He’s here. Keep an eye on Cole and
Lex
for me
...
if you can.”

“Don’t put
that type of responsibility on me Alley.” I groaned trying to run away. “You
know I’ll fail at that.”

Nothing stopped
her. She still left my ass to babysit. I found Nancy and Emma in the crowd so
we all decided to head to the grid where the teams and drivers were now
heading. Thankfully the hoodlum kids followed too. Casten and Cole
were
all smiles at their ability to get the crowd going.
Turns out the cheer nationals enjoyed it too and Cole’s dream came true. They
followed our boys around like they were their mascots.

Jameson
was fiddling with his visor when I approached him on the grid, the rest of the
family made their way behind the wall. We all decided tonight would be like any
other Saturday night racing. We would stay in the pit.

“You ready
for this?”

He laughed
leaning against the car in a familiar lean. His arms crossed over his chest and
he smiled at me. “It’s weird. I feel strange tonight.”

“Spencer?”

“Yeah,” he
said softly. Commotion beside him caught his attention and I knew I needed to
get on the pit box as they were getting ready to start the heat races. Jameson
was in the first heat and needed to get ready.

Perched on
my tippy toes, I kissed him. “Good luck tonight
champ
.”

“Thanks
honey.”

On the
grid, the fans gave the invocation for the drivers. Now was the time my eyes
shot up and saw what I knew Jameson needed.

Jimi, who
sat beside me and Nancy, laughed, a sincere emotional laugh, when he saw
Spencer hobbling onto the grid.

Spencer
stood at the car and waited for Jameson to notice him. When he did, he smiled
and gave Spencer the sign he had every other race. A familiar shake of his
wrist extending his pinky and thumb out and keeping his middle fingers curled
in, the
hang loose
sign. It was a ritual they had and could never be
break.

Spencer
smiled, wide and goofy, on his way to the pits where he took a seat below the
pit box with a headset to watch for the night.

The heat
race was entertaining. Any time you have hungry drivers all battling for a
chance to win a million dollars, their damn hungry and aggressive. In Jameson’s
heat, he took second to Brody Williams only because Jameson got loose and pegged
the wall in two. Brody took full advantage and took the lead. The heats
dictated how they would run in the main event, though so this meant, after the
other six were ran, Jameson would start the first main event in ninth. It
wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible either.

When we
informed him, he was having a discussion with Brody about who knows what and it
didn’t seem to be going well for either of them. Brody was a kid and I think
Jameson forgot that sometimes. The legal age to race in the Cup series was
eighteen. Nowadays is seemed they scouted drivers right out of high school and
there was probably seven fulltime drivers on the circuit now under twenty-one,
Brody included. Drivers who are eighteen have a much different driving style
than veteran drivers like Jameson, Tate, and Bobby. Just like the veteran
drivers used to do to Jameson, they let those young drivers know about the
gentleman’s agreement and what you do and don’t do on the track. I had a
sneaking suspicion that Brody was being informed of the gentleman’s agreement.

“Hey, pay
attention!” Kyle said when Jameson returned all stormy eyed and swearing under
his breath. He took a seat on the edge of the pit wall as the NASCAR officials
explained the running order for the trophy dashes.

“Sorry, fuck,
he’s a fucking jerk.”

“Yeah
well,” Kyle point to the laptop that told him what race Jameson was in. “You’re
in the second trophy dash with him, Nadia, and Bobby. Keep it clean.”

Jameson
scrunched his nose and glared. “Keep it clean.” He repeated in a mocking tone
that caused the group surrounding him to laugh.

Looking up
to the pit box, we made eye contact and I winked taking his gesture away.
Giving me a goofy grin, he gave me a head nod and bit the corner of his lip
seductively. Little shit.

What did I
do?

I reverted
back to pit lizard days and grabbed my funbags with both hands.

I won. He
threw his head back in laughter.

Teasing
was our thing. We were good at it.

Jameson
won his trophy dash which helped his mood for the main events. With the start of
the first main, I put the headset back on and took my place next to Jimi and
Nancy again. Jameson started in right away with the trash talking. “This little
shit is going down. I want the million dollars.” He said with amusement when
Brody bumped him from behind.

Jimi
chuckled. “Why’s that Jameson? Because you
gotta
pay
for all that shit your kids broke?”

“Something
like that old man.” My favorite part about listening to his in-car audio came
through, the radio cracked.

“One to go
at the line,” Aiden announced, “Watch you shift there.”

“Pays
backs for all that shit you broke when you were younger.” Jimi added.

“Whatever.”
Jameson laughed lightly. “Let’s get some focus here. I got a million to win.”

Jimi let
Kyle take over and they talked race format for a moment before the green flag
waved. Cars shuffled quickly, all searching for a quick opening to gain a spot
or two and darting to the preferred line the rain had washed away from their
practice session to now. It seemed the only grip was up top which was
beneficial for Jameson, he always loved running the high side.

Starting
ninth, Jameson had seventh secured by lap ten and gaining on Brody and Paul in
front of him. “Outside clear, there you go. P6 right there, keep coming bud.”
Aiden said. “That’s P5 right there in front of you for position. Two back on
you.”

“Where’s
Bobby running?”

“He’s
tenth.”

Paul and
Brody battled for fifth in front of Jameson when Paul got loose, Brody cleared
the position but smacked his right rear quarter panel on the outside wall. One
thing about the Monster Mile, it wasn’t forgiving. This allowed Jameson to
clear Brody too but then the caution flag came out and we knew why. Brody was
in front of Jameson now and I wasn’t sure how that would go.

“Why did
they call the caution?”

“Rain”

“Oh damn
it.” He huffed. “I’m gonna kick this kids ass after the race. He’s pissing me
off.”

Brody and
Jameson were nudging each other during the pace laps as they waited for the
rain to clear, the lightening rumbled across the dark sky.

“It’s
talking out there.” Nancy said snuggling into Jimi. He wrapped his burly arms
around her.

The media
scrambled for cover as the sky opened up and poured for a few minutes. They
left the cars on the track waiting for the rain to stop.

“Have I
ever mentioned how much I hate rain delays?” Jameson asked.

Kyle
kicked his legs on the other side of me wrapping his arm around me when I
shivered from the wind. “You may have mentioned it a time or two.”

“Feelings
are still the same.”

The rain
eventually let up, the blowers got out there and dried the track and then the
boys were pitting. Jameson gained two spots on pit lane and Brody lost one.
This put Jameson in fourth when they waived the green flag again. Two things
were uncertain at that point, the inversion point and if the rain would come
back and what that would do to the grip. Right now, as the field was setting
up, Jameson needed to be back in the field a little more to gain himself a good
opportunity. He knew that.

“What should
we do?” Jameson asked when they got to lap forty five.

“Uh,
well,” Kyle thought for a minute just about the time Brody caught Jameson
coming out of three and cut down on him. Jameson checked up but Bobby was right
there and Jameson got sideways into and smacked the wall.

“What a
douchebag!” Jameson yelled. “Someone needs to kick his ass. Aiden?” his voice
remained heated.

“Yeah
bud?”

“Go kick
his spotter’s ass for me.”

“Nah man,”
Aiden sounded terrified. “Bob is not very friendly.”

“Nice
asshole, way to stick up for me.” Jameson argued.

“All right
Jameson,” Kyle interrupted. “Let’s think about the inversion here. It looks
like you have a tire going.”

“Super.” I
could tell by his tone that he wasn’t impressed with the rookie. In all
actuality, most drivers back when Jameson was rookie didn’t like him either.

They had
the drivers come down pit lane again to announce the inversion, each driver
parking beside their pit boxes. Jameson flipped the drivers net down and then
sat there for a moment. It was set to be a twenty-minute delay as they wanted
to bring out the jet dryers again and interview the fans and drivers.

Brody got
out of his car and immediately went to Jameson’s car, who I might add had
dropped from fourth to twentieth when Brody came down on him like that. Jameson
wasn’t pleased.

That was
Brody’s first mistake, coming down on Jameson. His second, approaching Jameson
before he had a moment to calm down.

You could
literally see the fire igniting in Jameson at the sight Brody standing at his
door.

Jameson
tossed his gloves aside, the motion forced and violent. When Brody spoke,
Jameson muttered something back shaking his head, eyes focused intently on the
rookie before him, contemplating his motivation.

Brody
leaned in, his hands found the edge of his window blocking Jameson from getting
out.

Jimi
leaned forward, his eyes finding mine. “What the hell is that kid thinking?”

I gave him
my best, “Are you shitting me?” look.

“Please
don’t let my son kill that boy.” Nancy said pushing Jimi with her hands. “Go
down there.”

Jimi
didn’t have a chance before Kyle and Mason walked over.

Jameson,
in a quick movement was tossing gear aside trying free himself from the car.
Hoisting his body to the edge of the window, anger fueled, he swung his legs
around and stood tall before Brody.

Hovering
over him, he grabbed him by his racing suit and brought him closer. He was calm
but angry. He was forceful but graceful, always poised with concentrated ire.
Foolish pride of this kid is quickly steered as Jameson now controlled the
argument and yes, it was turning into an argument. Pushing, shoving and heated
words between two passionate drivers, and now crew members.

Brody held
steady, not giving in but he was nothing like Jameson.

Making my
way from the pit box, I knew I was the one to get Jameson under control. His
knuckles were white, fisted in Brody’s suit still, eyes flashed with a storm
more threatening and destructive than the weather here.

Fans and
officials gathered quickly, shouting, cheering and with harsh callous words
filled the space around Jameson’s black car.