road and the squawk of the CB and the radio brought everything back. It was like coming home again.
“Charlie, what do you think the chances would be of me coming back and riding with a team again? I’d pull my weight. Help with anything.”
“I thought you said you had it good in this new situation.”
“Yeah, I do, but . . .”
“You miss Chester, don’t you?”
They both laughed, and Tim scratched the dog’s head. “Yeah, there’s nobody like old Chester. It’s a pretty far-fetched idea, I know. Maybe after I finish school, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Finish school and see if you still want to get back out here.”
When they neared Jacksonville, Charlie put out a call on his CB to a family he knew that was headed west from there. The father turned out to be a man Charlie had worked with years before in Andalusia, Alabama.
“We have an extra seat, no problem,” the man said when they met at a gas station. “Hope you don’t mind riding with some snoring kids in the back.”
“Don’t mind at all,” Tim said.
Tim thanked Charlie and gave Chester a good-bye pat on the head. Charlie tried to say something, but he finally just lightly punched Tim on the shoulder and ambled off to his truck.
They were a few miles down the road when the dad looked in the rearview mirror and asked Tim where he lived and how he’d liked the race. Most of the others in the car were asleep.
In Tallahassee, Tim asked the man to drop him at a nearby convenience store. He offered to pay the man for his trouble, but he wouldn’t take anything.
“See you, Tim,” the mother said from the front, shifting in her seat for a better position.
The man stepped out of the car. “I know all about what happened to you. Last year at Talladega, right?”
“Yeah, that was my dad.”
The man put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I wantyou to know how sorry we are. Afterward I read a story in the paper that mentioned you. Our family has been praying for you ever since.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” Tim said. “I wish I’d have met you folks before I headed to Daytona.”
The man handed him a business card with his phone number on it. “Anything you need, call me.” He bit his lip. “Do you know the Lord, son?”
Tim nodded. “Oh yeah.” He said it because he knew that’s what the man wanted to hear. But the truth was, Tim wanted to finish his sentence with and I don’t want anything to do with him.
“You’ll be okay from here?” the man said.
“Yeah, my place is just back there. I thank you for your kindness.”
Tim walked the rest of the way home, past a few barking dogs. A raccoon was in a garbage can, its tail twitching. It looked right at Tim, then went back to the half-eaten bag of microwave popcorn.
The front door was locked, and Tim didn’t have a key. He jimmied his window open and crawled through, landing on his bed. He lay there a few minutes, listening for anyone stirring in the rest of the trailer. Fully clothed, his backpack still slung around his arm, Tim fell asleep and didn’t wake up until he was late for school the next day.
Chapter 21
Midnight Conversation
JAMIE TRIED TO SLEEP, stretched out in the middle seat of the family’s Suburban, but she couldn’t get the sight of her dad’s wrecked car out of her head. Or the sight of Butch Devalon standing by his car at the end of the race, pumping his fists, his crew whooping around him and shaking champagne bottles all over. The Devalons were probably already home. Like a lot of teams, they had flown their jet to Daytona.
She’d seen the replay of the wreck a few times in the camper and cringed when one of the announcers asked Devalon to explain what happened. “Well, that was unfortunate. I got a little excited in the middle of the pack and kind of bumped Dale. I was lucky to get out of there without damage to the car, and we had us a good one today. Took us all the way to the finish line.”
“What’s it feel like to be
“Charlie, what do you think the chances would be of me coming back and riding with a team again? I’d pull my weight. Help with anything.”
“I thought you said you had it good in this new situation.”
“Yeah, I do, but . . .”
“You miss Chester, don’t you?”
They both laughed, and Tim scratched the dog’s head. “Yeah, there’s nobody like old Chester. It’s a pretty far-fetched idea, I know. Maybe after I finish school, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Finish school and see if you still want to get back out here.”
When they neared Jacksonville, Charlie put out a call on his CB to a family he knew that was headed west from there. The father turned out to be a man Charlie had worked with years before in Andalusia, Alabama.
“We have an extra seat, no problem,” the man said when they met at a gas station. “Hope you don’t mind riding with some snoring kids in the back.”
“Don’t mind at all,” Tim said.
Tim thanked Charlie and gave Chester a good-bye pat on the head. Charlie tried to say something, but he finally just lightly punched Tim on the shoulder and ambled off to his truck.
They were a few miles down the road when the dad looked in the rearview mirror and asked Tim where he lived and how he’d liked the race. Most of the others in the car were asleep.
In Tallahassee, Tim asked the man to drop him at a nearby convenience store. He offered to pay the man for his trouble, but he wouldn’t take anything.
“See you, Tim,” the mother said from the front, shifting in her seat for a better position.
The man stepped out of the car. “I know all about what happened to you. Last year at Talladega, right?”
“Yeah, that was my dad.”
The man put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I wantyou to know how sorry we are. Afterward I read a story in the paper that mentioned you. Our family has been praying for you ever since.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” Tim said. “I wish I’d have met you folks before I headed to Daytona.”
The man handed him a business card with his phone number on it. “Anything you need, call me.” He bit his lip. “Do you know the Lord, son?”
Tim nodded. “Oh yeah.” He said it because he knew that’s what the man wanted to hear. But the truth was, Tim wanted to finish his sentence with and I don’t want anything to do with him.
“You’ll be okay from here?” the man said.
“Yeah, my place is just back there. I thank you for your kindness.”
Tim walked the rest of the way home, past a few barking dogs. A raccoon was in a garbage can, its tail twitching. It looked right at Tim, then went back to the half-eaten bag of microwave popcorn.
The front door was locked, and Tim didn’t have a key. He jimmied his window open and crawled through, landing on his bed. He lay there a few minutes, listening for anyone stirring in the rest of the trailer. Fully clothed, his backpack still slung around his arm, Tim fell asleep and didn’t wake up until he was late for school the next day.
Chapter 21
Midnight Conversation
JAMIE TRIED TO SLEEP, stretched out in the middle seat of the family’s Suburban, but she couldn’t get the sight of her dad’s wrecked car out of her head. Or the sight of Butch Devalon standing by his car at the end of the race, pumping his fists, his crew whooping around him and shaking champagne bottles all over. The Devalons were probably already home. Like a lot of teams, they had flown their jet to Daytona.
She’d seen the replay of the wreck a few times in the camper and cringed when one of the announcers asked Devalon to explain what happened. “Well, that was unfortunate. I got a little excited in the middle of the pack and kind of bumped Dale. I was lucky to get out of there without damage to the car, and we had us a good one today. Took us all the way to the finish line.”
“What’s it feel like to be
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