Overdrive (13 page)

TIM RODE ALONG
with the Maxwells to Camp Left Turn.

Mrs. Maxwell said she was looking forward to coming here. “Dale’s been before and I came last year. Just the look on the kids’ faces when they see Dale or some of the other drivers is worth the trip.”

“I’m not sure I want to be around a bunch of sick kids,” Tim said. “What if it rubs off?”

Kellen laughed. “You can’t catch diabetes from somebody like a cold.”

“Yeah, but some weeks the kids are really sick, right?” Tim said.

“None of the illnesses are contagious,” Mrs. Maxwell said. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

As they made the hard left turn into the parking lot, Tim asked Dale what he was going to do.

“I usually just walk around and talk to the kids and watch them ride horses and swim. Then they get all the kids together in the main building, and I answer questions.”

“What are you going to say?”

Dale unlocked the doors. “That your life isn’t defined by your problems. You might have difficulties, and you may have caught some bad breaks, but you don’t have to let those hold you back. The kids who come here could let whatever illness they have stop them. They could become the little sick kid. But the truth is, they don’t have to be known as that. They don’t have to give up.”

“Most of the best home run hitters struck out a lot more than they homered,” Kellen said. “And if you race NASCAR, there are 42 losers and only one winner in each race.”

Tim watched as Dale was mobbed as soon as he walked through the gate. The kids ran to Dale like he had some kind of kid magnet and wouldn’t stop following. Some wanted autographs, some had questions, and some of them were too scared to do anything but stare. It wasn’t until Dale sat on a bench and got eye level with them that the timid ones approached.

“Do you think you have a chance for the Chase, Mr. Maxwell?” one boy said.

“I’m running well right now, but there are a bunch of drivers ahead of me. It’s hard to catch up because they’re all scoring points too. I’ll know more after this weekend in Indy.”

“Are there any drivers who are diabetic?” a boy said. “My mom said I couldn’t be a long-haul trucker or serve in the military, but what about NASCAR?”

“If there’s not a driver now, why don’t you become the first one?” Dale said.

The kid smiled so wide and shook Dale’s hand so hard that Tim couldn’t help smiling too.

Then Jamie walked up with a little girl. “Dad, this is Jenna. She came to Daytona to watch her very first race, and that was the day she got sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that, darlin’,” Dale said. “Have you been able to come to another race?”

“Dad had to save up a long time for us to even come to that one,” Jenna said. “And I saved my allowance. Maybe next year.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Dale said. “If I get in the Chase, you and your parents ought to come down to Talladega to see that race. I could get you some tickets if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” Jenna said, her eyes wide. “Just one thing. You’d better make it, because I really want to go.”

Everybody laughed and Tim did too, but there was
something about hearing the word
Talladega
that sent a shiver through him. How would he feel going back there? Would the Maxwells even invite him?

They moved to the track area, where Dale was introduced by a man with a microphone. The crowd cheered, and the guy even introduced Jamie as “an up-and-coming driver you’re sure to see out there one day.”

Jamie blushed and waved at the kids, then settled in with her friend Cassie.

Dale told some stories about his favorite races and his least favorite wrecks. He showed the kids a couple of his techniques of driving and finished with a Bible story about Noah and how God told him to build a holy race car.

The kids laughed and said, “No, it was an ark!”

“Well, it was a special vehicle, and when Noah finished building it, do you know who got in and drove?”

The kids were silent.

Dale said that God shut the door himself, and it began to rain. Then he said some things about letting God have control of your life, and he glanced over at Jamie and winked. Most of the stuff Tim didn’t pay attention to because he was looking at the parking lot. The Watkins guy from the driving school walked up to the back of the audience and just stood there, staring at him.

JAMIE SHOOK HANDS
with Mr. Watkins, and the man nodded, his face grim. He said hello to her mom and shook hands with her dad. The kids were still gathering around, and Bud asked if they could go to someplace more private.

Jenna pulled on Jamie's dad's hand. “My mom told me if I really got to see you, I should give you this.” She handed him an envelope.

He put it in his shirt pocket and knelt before Jenna. “I hope I'm going to see you a little later in the season.”

She smiled and walked away with the rest of the campers.

Jamie followed Bud toward the parking lot. When they were outside the fence, Bud leaned against his truck and pushed his hat back a little, crossing his arms
and
legs. He just stood there for a moment, and Jamie wanted to scream
for him to say something. She turned and saw Cassie over by the meeting hall watching them.

“We've got a situation with the race Sunday,” Bud finally said as Tim and the others walked up. Bud stared at Tim for some reason.

“What kind of situation?” Jamie said.

“We're DQing one of the teams.”

“They're going to send one of the drivers to Dairy Queen?” Kellen muttered.

Jamie punched her brother's arm. “One of the top three?” she said.

Bud nodded. “The Devalon team. Since he won the race, we gave the engine a good once-over and noticed some residue. It looks like they put some additive in his fuel. Jet fuel to give him an edge.”

“Why would they do that?” Jamie said. “He didn't need it.”

“Well, evidently they thought he did.” He looked at Tim again. “Or, if we believe the crew, somebody put the stuff in their fuel can.”

Tim looked away.

“What are you going to do, Bud?” Jamie's dad said.

“Unless they can prove that someone sabotaged their fuel, we're pulling his license and giving it to the one who finished fourth.”

Jamie's mouth dropped open, and she tried to resist the urge to jump up and down and scream.

Bud stepped toward Tim. “You have anything to say about this?”

“It's a real shame, sir. I don't like cheaters any more than you do.”

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

Tim shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why would I want to help them win the race? I'm on the Maxwell team.”

“You could have known we'd find that residue and would have to DQ him.”

“That seems like a stretch,” her dad said. “The simplest explanation is that they gave Chad a splash of that stuff to power him to the finish. Or that he was running with it the whole race.”

“They said they saw Tim in their pit area,” Bud said.

Her dad looked at Tim square in the eyes. “You have anything to do with this?”

“Absolutely not,” Tim said, not hesitating.

“That settles it for me,” her dad said. “We don't have that kind of fuel additive around our shop anyway. Where would Tim get it?”

“We're going to review the video from the race, but as it stands right now . . .” Bud faced Jamie. “Little lady, you just won yourself a license.”

When Bud reached out a hand to shake, she couldn't help hugging him.

“We also looked over your engine,” Bud said. “What you did with that car from start to finish is nothing short of amazing. I hope you know that.”

“We had a good run,” Jamie said, glancing over at Cassie. The girl's head was bowed and her eyes closed. Jamie wished she'd stop praying so she could give her a thumbs-up.

“If I were you,” Bud said to her dad, “I'd get that girl an agent. She's the best I've ever seen at her age.”

Her dad smiled. “She's the best I've seen. Period.”

AT FIRST, TIM COULDN’T
believe the Devalon people would accuse him. Then he figured he was a likely candidate in their minds. They probably thought nobody would stand up for him. People would just throw him under the bus like they always did. They hadn’t planned on Dale and Jamie.

The next day, Butch Devalon showed up at the house while Tim was outside weeding the flower garden for Mrs. Maxwell, his shirt off. He had some music on a headset as he pulled and picked. When that black truck parked in the driveway, he shut off the music and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Devalon walked over to him. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you want to ruin Chad’s chances?”

Tim didn’t want to back down. He wanted to stand up to the guy. But he
remembered something his dad had said:
“When you wrestle with a pig, the only thing that happens is you both get dirty.”
The DVD came back to him, and he gritted his teeth. It was like staring down some fire-breathing dragon.

“I don’t think your son had any right to be there, mister. From what I hear, he came in halfway through and didn’t pay his dues like the others. But I didn’t do anything to his stupid car. You’ve got nobody to blame but yourself.”

The man snarled at him—Tim could swear the guy snarled like a dog—as the door opened behind Tim. He kept his eyes locked on Devalon as the man looked up.

“What can we do for you, Butch?” Dale said.

“Tell your daughter to get out here.”

From the creak of the porch, Tim figured Dale stepped down a step or two. “I’d advise you to change your tone a bit.”

“I don’t need any advice from a loser like you. Now tell her to get out—”

Jamie’s car pulled into the driveway, and she stopped just past Devalon’s truck. Tim found his shirt and put it on. Mrs. Maxwell came out on the step and rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Kellen came over from the barn. It was like they were all there to watch some bad reality TV show.

Jamie got out of her car in a sweat-stained T-shirt and her workout shorts. She went to the gym at least once a day. She walked up to the group, looking at Devalon, then her parents.

“The deal’s off,” Devalon said. “I don’t want your kind on any team of mine. And I want the key to my garage back. Now.”

Jamie nodded and ran inside. She returned with the key and tossed it to the man, who caught it with one hand.

“Don’t ever come to me whining about wanting a second chance,” he said.

“I never asked for a chance in the first place,” Jamie said. “The truth is, my dad’s going to teach me everything I need to know from here on. And he’s twice the driver you’ll ever be.”

Devalon shook his head and laughed. “Him?” He looked around at the house, the barn, and the garage in the distance. “Yeah, this place is a monument to the success of Dale Maxwell. He’s built quite a racing empire.”

Mrs. Maxwell walked down the steps and stood on the concrete sidewalk that was a little cracked. She put her hands on her hips. “Being a driver isn’t just about winning, Butch. It’s about being a real man to your wife and family.”

“Nicole, don’t get all upset because you picked the
wrong guy to marry. It’s okay to be jealous of what I have. Might even be an incentive for your man to work harder.”

“You got what you came for, Butch,” Dale said. “Now leave.”

“Yeah, leave,” Kellen said, his voice strained.

“What goes around comes around,” Devalon said, glaring at Tim. Then he looked at Dale. “Watch your back at Brickyard. You never know when something bad’ll happen.”

“Good-bye, Butch,” Dale said.

Devalon shoved the key in his pocket and walked back to his truck.

Tim started his music again and watched the black truck zoom down the driveway, sending a cloud of white dust over the yard and into the trees in the distance.