While working alone on his race car near
the track, Paul felt a cold shiver that pulsed from the small of his
back to every pore on his body. He’d felt this sensation many times
before during races. After countless close calls, the familiarity with
it was almost intimate. His left hand trembling, he reached inside his
tool box and felt nothing. He looked and saw there wasn’t a single tool
inside. Paul closed his eyes. He took in a deep breath. He made peace
with the moment. As he exhaled, his mind flashed to so many memories,
both of racing glory and agonizing defeats. He remembered the many
risky, daring maneuvers over the course of his storied career, some of
which brought him victories, some of which brought him great defeats,
but all brought him not only a loyal, fanatical following, but dozens of
close encounters with the man now standing behind him.
“Hello, old friend. I wondered when you’d show up again.”
“Good to see you, Paul. It’s been a long time. Too long, if you ask me.”
“Not nearly long enough, if you ask me!” Paul chuckled as he stood up, turned around, and shook his old friend’s hand.
“I met your youngin’ yesterday. He seems like a fine young racer. Not a daredevil like his daddy, though.”
“I reckon he’s not. I raised him right. Responsible and whatnot. What were you doing hanging around him?”
“I was looking for you!”
Paul and his old friend shared a good laugh. As they caught up on old times, Paul’s mind wandered to thoughts of his son. He was so proud of that boy. Paul remembered the day his son was born. How beautiful his mother looked even as she labored to deliver him. He thought of how smart his kid was. How he was capable of so much more than his old man and yet, all he really wanted was to be a racer, too. Now his boy was all grown up and they were a team. Paul was still as reckless and daring as ever, but his boy had grown into being a very skilled, technical driver. He knew all the details. He was very sharp, but he lacked the instincts of his father. He didn’t have the intangibles that turns an average driver into an all time great. But that made Paul happy. He didn’t want his boy crashing every other race. He didn’t want him to meet his old friend as a young man. There was more in this life he was capable of and someday, he’d be more than the son of a famous racer. Paul didn’t know what that would be, but he knew his son was destined for a different kind of greatness.
“Is your mind wandering? Have I lost your attention already, Paul?’
“Sorry about that. I guess I’m a little caught up in the moment.”
“Well, there’s no need to get all misty on me now. You’ve had ice water running through your veins all these years. This ain’t the time to replace it with blood.”
“Ha! Ain’t that the truth.”
Paul flashed back to the first time he met his old friend. He was in a shootout on the final lap with one of his biggest rivals when his old friend pulled up from out of nowhere and rubbed his bumper. Normally, such a minor love tap wouldn’t affect the car, but at just the right angle, it was enough to send Paul out of control toward the wall. Any lesser driver would have been a dead man, but Paul was made of different stuff. He saw the tap coming, he compensated when his tires began to slip. He didn’t give his steering wheel a death grip. He just moved with the rub and used his momentum to arc around his opponent, find the groove on the track, and get himself back into position to win. It was the first of many times he’d seen the old friend in his rear view and he never let panic set in. These were the kind of moments he thrived on. He was unflappable and that’s why his fans loved him. Whether his car flipped 20 times and set on fire, or he was setting records during a time trial, he was as courageous as they come.
“Well, are you ready to get in the car?”
“Can’t I at least get one last race? Same wager as always?”
“There really is no wager, but if you wish to have the opportunity to prolong the inevitable, I’m not going to stop you. We’ll race 10 laps. If you win, I’ll give you your tools back and let you pick up where you left off. And if I win, I get to say I beat a legend on his own track.”
“Sounds fair to me!”
Paul shook his old friend’s hand, gave him a nod and a tip of the hat, put on his helmet, and got in his car. He wasn’t ready to lose to his old friend. He’d never lost to him in the past and he didn’t plan on starting now. He didn’t care if he had to run him into the wall. He was winning this race, too.
The first lap was merely a warm up. They paced each other evenly at low speeds before picking it up at the end of the lap. The next eight laps gradually got faster and more intense. The world around the track began to melt away until it seemed as though they were racing on a track drifting through deep space. Why did this son of a bitch have to show up now? There were so many things Paul was looking forward to. He had a wife and a son whom he loved dearly. He had a fortune. He had fame. He had dozens of course records and major victories. He could retire now and be remembered as one of the greatest of all time. It seemed as if all the hardship in life was now behind him and just as the future looked the most promising, he would never get a glimpse of what was in store. Just as these things entered Paul’s mind, he did something out of character. He became emotional. The cool cat who could stare death in the eye without blinking was racing with his eyes shut. His feet trembling, mashing the gas pedal against the floorboards. His hands and face drenched in sweat. He was coming unraveled. He lost his confidence he could win fair and square. Every move he made was being anticipated and he was certain he was driving a slower car. If he couldn’t outrun his old friend, he was prepared to beat him some other way. The only thing that mattered was crossing the line first even if he rendered his opponent incapable of crossing the line at all. The Ole Daredevil still had some dirty tricks up his sleeve. He’d wait for the final bend, get inside position, and plow straight into his old friend.
“He’s anticipated everything else I’ve done today. Is it possible he’s ready for this, too? Well, no guts, no glory. I gotta go for it.”
With a final scream, Paul stopped aiming for the finish line and instead tried to redirect his old friend’s car off the track and into a brick wall. He seemed vulnerable, almost as if he was inviting such a maneuver and at the last moment, Paul realized his mistake. He was doing exactly what his old friend wanted and driving himself straight into the wall and into an early grave.
“A fine mess you just made!” His old friend laughed in a mildly smug tone as he welcomed Paul out of the wreckage, into his car, and then drove off the track into outer space.
“What happened to you out there? You never used to come unglued.”
“I just got old, I guess.”
“I just got old.”
"And emotional."
“Hello, old friend. I wondered when you’d show up again.”
“Good to see you, Paul. It’s been a long time. Too long, if you ask me.”
“Not nearly long enough, if you ask me!” Paul chuckled as he stood up, turned around, and shook his old friend’s hand.
“I met your youngin’ yesterday. He seems like a fine young racer. Not a daredevil like his daddy, though.”
“I reckon he’s not. I raised him right. Responsible and whatnot. What were you doing hanging around him?”
“I was looking for you!”
Paul and his old friend shared a good laugh. As they caught up on old times, Paul’s mind wandered to thoughts of his son. He was so proud of that boy. Paul remembered the day his son was born. How beautiful his mother looked even as she labored to deliver him. He thought of how smart his kid was. How he was capable of so much more than his old man and yet, all he really wanted was to be a racer, too. Now his boy was all grown up and they were a team. Paul was still as reckless and daring as ever, but his boy had grown into being a very skilled, technical driver. He knew all the details. He was very sharp, but he lacked the instincts of his father. He didn’t have the intangibles that turns an average driver into an all time great. But that made Paul happy. He didn’t want his boy crashing every other race. He didn’t want him to meet his old friend as a young man. There was more in this life he was capable of and someday, he’d be more than the son of a famous racer. Paul didn’t know what that would be, but he knew his son was destined for a different kind of greatness.
“Is your mind wandering? Have I lost your attention already, Paul?’
“Sorry about that. I guess I’m a little caught up in the moment.”
“Well, there’s no need to get all misty on me now. You’ve had ice water running through your veins all these years. This ain’t the time to replace it with blood.”
“Ha! Ain’t that the truth.”
Paul flashed back to the first time he met his old friend. He was in a shootout on the final lap with one of his biggest rivals when his old friend pulled up from out of nowhere and rubbed his bumper. Normally, such a minor love tap wouldn’t affect the car, but at just the right angle, it was enough to send Paul out of control toward the wall. Any lesser driver would have been a dead man, but Paul was made of different stuff. He saw the tap coming, he compensated when his tires began to slip. He didn’t give his steering wheel a death grip. He just moved with the rub and used his momentum to arc around his opponent, find the groove on the track, and get himself back into position to win. It was the first of many times he’d seen the old friend in his rear view and he never let panic set in. These were the kind of moments he thrived on. He was unflappable and that’s why his fans loved him. Whether his car flipped 20 times and set on fire, or he was setting records during a time trial, he was as courageous as they come.
“Well, are you ready to get in the car?”
“Can’t I at least get one last race? Same wager as always?”
“There really is no wager, but if you wish to have the opportunity to prolong the inevitable, I’m not going to stop you. We’ll race 10 laps. If you win, I’ll give you your tools back and let you pick up where you left off. And if I win, I get to say I beat a legend on his own track.”
“Sounds fair to me!”
Paul shook his old friend’s hand, gave him a nod and a tip of the hat, put on his helmet, and got in his car. He wasn’t ready to lose to his old friend. He’d never lost to him in the past and he didn’t plan on starting now. He didn’t care if he had to run him into the wall. He was winning this race, too.
The first lap was merely a warm up. They paced each other evenly at low speeds before picking it up at the end of the lap. The next eight laps gradually got faster and more intense. The world around the track began to melt away until it seemed as though they were racing on a track drifting through deep space. Why did this son of a bitch have to show up now? There were so many things Paul was looking forward to. He had a wife and a son whom he loved dearly. He had a fortune. He had fame. He had dozens of course records and major victories. He could retire now and be remembered as one of the greatest of all time. It seemed as if all the hardship in life was now behind him and just as the future looked the most promising, he would never get a glimpse of what was in store. Just as these things entered Paul’s mind, he did something out of character. He became emotional. The cool cat who could stare death in the eye without blinking was racing with his eyes shut. His feet trembling, mashing the gas pedal against the floorboards. His hands and face drenched in sweat. He was coming unraveled. He lost his confidence he could win fair and square. Every move he made was being anticipated and he was certain he was driving a slower car. If he couldn’t outrun his old friend, he was prepared to beat him some other way. The only thing that mattered was crossing the line first even if he rendered his opponent incapable of crossing the line at all. The Ole Daredevil still had some dirty tricks up his sleeve. He’d wait for the final bend, get inside position, and plow straight into his old friend.
“He’s anticipated everything else I’ve done today. Is it possible he’s ready for this, too? Well, no guts, no glory. I gotta go for it.”
With a final scream, Paul stopped aiming for the finish line and instead tried to redirect his old friend’s car off the track and into a brick wall. He seemed vulnerable, almost as if he was inviting such a maneuver and at the last moment, Paul realized his mistake. He was doing exactly what his old friend wanted and driving himself straight into the wall and into an early grave.
“A fine mess you just made!” His old friend laughed in a mildly smug tone as he welcomed Paul out of the wreckage, into his car, and then drove off the track into outer space.
“What happened to you out there? You never used to come unglued.”
“I just got old, I guess.”
“I just got old.”
"And emotional."
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