He isn’t sure how it came to this. How he came to be in this place at this moment. All he knew was that he was nervous, shaking. He couldn’t concentrate. Too much was going on all around him. Lights, screams, roaring engines, everything was a distraction. Everything was keeping him from remembering what he was supposed to do.
It wasn’t second nature for him. He wasn’t like the others, he had only learned recently, how to drive. Not just cruise down the road to and from work, to really drive. Pedal to the floor, hands clenched on the steering wheel, pushing yourself further and further until you lost control. No, it was never the car, it was always him, and he was holding it back. Every hesitation, every twitch, every mistake, it was slowing her down. He stood between her and glory every night. Every night she was fighting him.
How had he gotten himself into this? Somewhere his curiosity had gotten away from him. Somehow he had found himself face to face with his own insecurity. Here on the street. A place he came to watch other people, to try and figure things out, to push through his own limitations. Now he was the one being watched, the one being examined. People watching him, analyzing him, trying to find out what he could do, and how that could help them become better, faster, quicker.
He slipped the gear selector into first. Feeling the familiar click, letting it knock right into place. Foot on the clutch, don’t let off the clutch, not yet, too soon for that now. Just let the car show you, feel what the car is trying to tell you. What does she need? More gas? Less clutch? Feel it. Feel every single piece of information. Speak her language. Let every ounce of your body be a receptor.
He glanced next to him for a second. Black car, fast car, driver was good. He had seen him race many times before, always in a billow of smoke, always a big show. Lots of power to the street, all that smoke told him that at least. Enough power to stand still in a cloud of his own pride every time. Enough power to win and win and win. How could he beat him? Someone with talent, skill and power. He didn’t stand a chance.
No time to think about that now. Just remember everything the old man taught you. Just listen to what she tells you and just do what you know.
There is a girl in his headlights now, holding up something in the air. A scarf? Something, anything, whatever it was it was important now but, don’t keep your eye on it. Just know where it is. Just know when it falls. Keep your mind here. Your mind is in this seat. Your mind is in this car. She is the only thing that matters to you right now. She wants to be free. He knows this.
She growls, she roars, he can feel it all, through the seat, through the shifter, through the pedals. He knows exactly what she wants. She wants to be set free, tearing down this piece of road; screaming down every last inch of it. He wants the same thing now, he wants to be the one roaring with fury, he is the one roaring with fury. They are the one and the same, car and driver, no different, not separate. They are of one mind, and that is to run.
The girl drops her hands. He is already pushing it. Let the clutch out, don’t waste power, push the gas, feed her, feed her everything she can take, let the clutch out, don’t let the clutch out too fast, let it out just enough, let her tell you how much she needs. In a flash he’s gone, pushing hard. It’s just driving, nothing special about this, just moving in a straight line just like he has every morning and every night. Watch the tach, watch it climb. Now clutch, quickly pull the shifter back, just let it notch into gear, second gear, this is where he pulls, this is his gear, now just two breaths, not any more and not any less. Keep your breathing steady and everything is fine just In… and out…. And in…. and clutch out. Get on the gas, keep on the gas, right where she needs to be! No bucking, no popping just smooth, right to the wheels.
And now to third…
And now to fourth….
And now…
He’s not sure of where he is. Something is ringing obnoxiously close to his head. Some terrible rendition of a pop song sung the way only a cheap cell-phone can. He fumbles around in bed before finding it, still in the pocket of his jeans.
“Hello?” he is rubbing his eyes, who would call him this early?
“Yo man! Where the hell have you been? You just took off last night.” He knew the voice.
“I’m at home asleep. What the fuck time is it?”
“Look man, I can’t believe you! You take off burning rubber like the cops are chasing you all the way down Deer Park! Where the hell did you go?”
Where did he go? He looks around. Looks like his room.
“I fucking came home alright? I’ve got work in like…” He checks the clock “two hours man, I need some sleep. Can this wait?”
“I can’t believe you.” His voice is dead. Serious. “you fucking run for the first time ever and make that faggot eat every last word he has ever said about you… and you just DRIVE HOME?!?!?”
He won. He leaned back in bed and tried to wrap his mind around that for a moment. He won.
“I… won?” Still wasn’t sure about that.
“SHIT. You fucking won, you left that bitch sitting there with his dick in his hand while you tore shit up! Man… shit man, I don’t fucking understand you at all.” He sounded amused more than anything else.
Tony was a good friend. As far as his friends went, this was generally not very far at all.
“I’ve got work tomorrow… can this seriously wait just two fucking hours?”
“Alright Tokyo, you crazy fuck, I’ll call you back.”
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