Bang the Blower (Country Roads 3)

“Hell and damnation!” Duke yelled, stuffing the keys back in the ignition. “Hurry up. Get back to the farm. Frank was with Julie and I’ll bet you anything he talks her into a practice run.”

Chapter Ten

“Frank, I swear you can convince me to do anything,” Julie said, grinning as she slid through the window of the race car Frank had been dying to see her drive.

“I don’t know, little girl. I still haven’t seen you on that mare’s back. The two of ya haven’t bonded yet. You need to get down there in that field and get to know her, just you and her. Sit around down there and read a book. Let her come up and sniff around ya, and you’ll be thick as thieves before ya know it.”

Julie shook her head. “You saw her, Frank. After Duke left, I went down there and tried to catch her. She was too interested in kicking up her heels and showing off.”

He waved his hand in front of his face. “Don’t worry about that none. She’s ornery after her trip. Once she gets some rest, you’ll be able to get on her back.”

“She almost kicked me in the head,” Julie complained, thinking Frank should’ve been alarmed by the fact rather than dismissing the incident as a freak incident due to some sort of animal jet lag. The mare was temperamental, and after this afternoon, anyone could see that. Then again, she and Frank were used to mares like her. They used to break horses for a living.

Julie studied her older friend. Frank was getting up in years. He wasn’t the same anymore, and Julie had noticed the changes since she’d returned to the Hinmans’ world. He was still loyal to a fault, but he’d changed. Sometimes when she talked to him, he looked off in the distance like he didn’t hear a word she’d said. He used to hang on her every sentence.

“Well hurry up now. Get to drivin’. If you wanna practice without anyone around, you gotta hop to it.”

Julie slid on her helmet and waved. “I’ll see you on the start side of the finish line, Frank.” She used the familiar phrase they used to share between them, which meant she’d look for him as she crossed the finish line so they’d share their victories together.

He grinned. “Yes ma’am, I’ll be there with ya.”

“All right then,” she said, disappearing inside the car. Once there, she flipped switches, cranked the engine, and readjusted her seat. Trying to familiarize herself with a stock car after racing dragsters for several years took some time.

Clutching the wheel, she focused on the track, refusing to look at Frank now. It was bad luck, he used to say. He used to tell her, once you say good-bye, you don’t look back. Look forward. You gotta race to win, and you’ll never be a good competitor if you’re looking at what you pass up or leave behind.

One of the mechanics motioned her forward, rapidly rotating his wrist in a circular manner as he walked in front of her car. Several guys gathered at the fence. She had an audience of ten, and they seemed anxious to find out what this car could do.

After the first lap, Julie realized she was where she needed to be. Racing was more than her career. The sport was her hobby and her life. Three laps in, the men on the rail started to whoop and holler, and really cheer. And that’s when Julie decided to put on a show, the kind of exhibition stock car racing fans appreciated.

Practice run or not, Julie was ready to punch the pedal and find out what this car could do.

* * * *

Duke jumped out of the truck and slammed the door. He ran toward the track. The sound was like nothing he’d ever heard there at their practice facility before. It sounded like a professional driver having one hell of a qualifying run.

“Hurry up!” he yelled at Sam as he left his vehicle, too. “Julie’s on the track!”

Sam caught up to him and they ran side by side. “How do you know it’s Julie?”

They stopped at the top of the hill and Duke pointed. “Because no one drives like that! Hurry up!”

Duke ran down the hill waving his arms overhead, but instead of slowing down, she sped up. “Fuck! You’re such a show-off!” he screamed, waving his hands again when she passed, hoping she’d note the fear on his face, the concern in his eyes.

At increased and quite incredible speeds, Julie passed him on the rail and came up into turn four. Duke saw the brake lights, but the car didn’t slow down. “She can’t stop!” He jogged around the parameter of the track and stalked Frank, who was communicating with Julie.

Snatching the receiver out of his hand, Duke glared at Frank as he yelled in the transmitter, “Julie! Someone tampered with the brakes. Stay calm. That car is tough.”

“Duke!” she cried out, the fear in her voice.

“Honey, listen to me. I want you to stay low, get down near the field. When you come out of turn three, cut to the left, get infield. You’ll spin, maybe flip. But you’ll survive. Just stay off the wall, baby. Hear me. Stay with me.”

“Duke, damn it! I don’t have any brakes!”

“I know, Julie. I know!”

“She doesn’t have much gas,” Frank reported, turning to one of the mechanics. “You didn’t fill ’er up, did ya?”

“No, sir,” the young kid replied.