don’t think.’
‘For someone else?’
She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Hey, I better get back.’
Cass and I exchanged looks and I added some more notes to my phone.
Jase did a couple of pass-bys to check on us; and Red came by to pick up his order right on the dot of eleven thirty – without a thank you.
As rush hour approached, Cass started to take control. ‘Everything’s ready to go. You wanna do the deep-frying?’ she said.
I sighed. ‘If I must.’
‘I’ve set the oil to the right temperature,’ she said, like a mother encouraging her ten-year-old to cook.
Tentatively I dropped half a packet of straight-cut fries into the bubbling oil.
‘Take them out now !’ Cass said from behind me a few minutes later.
I lifted the drainer up and the chips, amazingly, appeared golden brown and appetising. ‘I did it!’
Cass held out a metal tray. ‘See, you can cook.’
‘They look good. I’ll have a large serve of those,’ said a deep voice from the queue building outside the van window.
Feeling ridiculously pleased, I scooped some into a paper cup and salted them.
From then on, Cass and I didn’t get a chance to speak other than passing food to and fro. We fell into a rhythm where I took the orders and gave change while Cass made up the food. I repeated each order out loud as she was about to make it so she didn’t have to read it from the pad.
When Jase came for his lunch, I added a freebie bucket of chips. His aura brightened in gratitude, so I took the opportunity to fish a bit.
‘These bike racers are pretty intense. Heard a bunch of arguments while I was taking orders this morning,’ I said, poking the chiko rolls and potato scallops with a fork as I talked. ‘Guess there’s a fair bit at stake. Money and all.’
‘Sure is. And tempers run hot in the pits. On the track too. Seen some crazy stuff. Nothing like the fight the other night, though.’
‘Oh?’ I said, r-e-a-l casual.
‘Had to call the cops in.’
‘True?’
His chest expanded a little. ‘Yeah. I mean, I coulda handled it but the track owner likes to have everything done by the book.’
I gave him an admiring look. ‘You gotta do things right. Who was fighting?’
Cass stopped washing up and listened as well.
‘That mechanic from Moto-Sane,’ said Jase.
‘Clem? Wow, he doesn’t look like the type.’ I thought about his angry reaction to Lu Red’s needling. ‘Who did he have a beef with?’
‘Team Riley’s wrench. Claimed the guy had been touching Lu Red’s bike. Like I said, things get heated before a big meet.’
‘Do you reckon it was true?’
Jase ate a couple more chips and thought about it. ‘Guess it’s possible. Everyone knows Moto-Sane’s been having problems. But it’s not real likely. They lock the garages when they’re not there. And we’re always around checking.’
‘At night too?’
‘Yeah. Twenty-four seven.’
‘That’s a pretty serious thing to accuse someone of.
What did the cops reckon?’
‘Fight was all over by the time they got here. Funny thing, though: Clem never told the cops what it was about. He just made out like it was an argument over nothing.’
‘Maybe it was?’
Jase nodded, crushed his empty chips container and tossed it into the bin. ‘Yeah. Probably. Better get back to work.’
After Cass and I had finished cleaning up, she went to find T-Dog to say goodbye while I wandered down to the track to watch practice. Lu Red was out on the black Honda CBR 1000. He sped past, leaving a cloud of four-stroke vapour in the air.
I saw Bolo leaning against the fence near the start/ finish line with a board and pen in hand. Seemed like an opportunity to ask him a few things but I hesitated. It might seem suspicious, him talking to the sandwich girl. I’d call him later.
I settled for a visit to Sharee at the information booth.
‘Did you see Lu?’ she asked excitedly.
I noticed she had a stopwatch in her hand. ‘You timing him?’
She put her fingers to her
‘For someone else?’
She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Hey, I better get back.’
Cass and I exchanged looks and I added some more notes to my phone.
Jase did a couple of pass-bys to check on us; and Red came by to pick up his order right on the dot of eleven thirty – without a thank you.
As rush hour approached, Cass started to take control. ‘Everything’s ready to go. You wanna do the deep-frying?’ she said.
I sighed. ‘If I must.’
‘I’ve set the oil to the right temperature,’ she said, like a mother encouraging her ten-year-old to cook.
Tentatively I dropped half a packet of straight-cut fries into the bubbling oil.
‘Take them out now !’ Cass said from behind me a few minutes later.
I lifted the drainer up and the chips, amazingly, appeared golden brown and appetising. ‘I did it!’
Cass held out a metal tray. ‘See, you can cook.’
‘They look good. I’ll have a large serve of those,’ said a deep voice from the queue building outside the van window.
Feeling ridiculously pleased, I scooped some into a paper cup and salted them.
From then on, Cass and I didn’t get a chance to speak other than passing food to and fro. We fell into a rhythm where I took the orders and gave change while Cass made up the food. I repeated each order out loud as she was about to make it so she didn’t have to read it from the pad.
When Jase came for his lunch, I added a freebie bucket of chips. His aura brightened in gratitude, so I took the opportunity to fish a bit.
‘These bike racers are pretty intense. Heard a bunch of arguments while I was taking orders this morning,’ I said, poking the chiko rolls and potato scallops with a fork as I talked. ‘Guess there’s a fair bit at stake. Money and all.’
‘Sure is. And tempers run hot in the pits. On the track too. Seen some crazy stuff. Nothing like the fight the other night, though.’
‘Oh?’ I said, r-e-a-l casual.
‘Had to call the cops in.’
‘True?’
His chest expanded a little. ‘Yeah. I mean, I coulda handled it but the track owner likes to have everything done by the book.’
I gave him an admiring look. ‘You gotta do things right. Who was fighting?’
Cass stopped washing up and listened as well.
‘That mechanic from Moto-Sane,’ said Jase.
‘Clem? Wow, he doesn’t look like the type.’ I thought about his angry reaction to Lu Red’s needling. ‘Who did he have a beef with?’
‘Team Riley’s wrench. Claimed the guy had been touching Lu Red’s bike. Like I said, things get heated before a big meet.’
‘Do you reckon it was true?’
Jase ate a couple more chips and thought about it. ‘Guess it’s possible. Everyone knows Moto-Sane’s been having problems. But it’s not real likely. They lock the garages when they’re not there. And we’re always around checking.’
‘At night too?’
‘Yeah. Twenty-four seven.’
‘That’s a pretty serious thing to accuse someone of.
What did the cops reckon?’
‘Fight was all over by the time they got here. Funny thing, though: Clem never told the cops what it was about. He just made out like it was an argument over nothing.’
‘Maybe it was?’
Jase nodded, crushed his empty chips container and tossed it into the bin. ‘Yeah. Probably. Better get back to work.’
After Cass and I had finished cleaning up, she went to find T-Dog to say goodbye while I wandered down to the track to watch practice. Lu Red was out on the black Honda CBR 1000. He sped past, leaving a cloud of four-stroke vapour in the air.
I saw Bolo leaning against the fence near the start/ finish line with a board and pen in hand. Seemed like an opportunity to ask him a few things but I hesitated. It might seem suspicious, him talking to the sandwich girl. I’d call him later.
I settled for a visit to Sharee at the information booth.
‘Did you see Lu?’ she asked excitedly.
I noticed she had a stopwatch in her hand. ‘You timing him?’
She put her fingers to her
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