The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (59 page)

Axel seemed to understand but still held some
nervousness.

“You got the talent buddy. I’ve seen you do it before,
just keep that in here.” I tapped the side of his head.

We didn’t have much time but as we made our way outside
so he could get to driver introductions he hugged me. Really hugged me. Both
arms wrapped around me tightly.

Kissing the top of his head, I returned the hug. “Go get
em’ buddy.”

When the race started, Axel lined up behind Dylan Cottle
and Cody Bowman in the fifth row beside Shane Jennings, a fellow USAC midget
racer he’d raced with since they were nine.

After a four-lap yellow in the beginning for a few
tangled cars on the start, Axel began moving up the field from his tenth
starting position. He hugged the inside edge of the track protecting his
position, at times driving up on the berm for the first 15 laps.

With 18 laps to go, he passed Cody for fourth. With 14 to
go Travis Quinn flipped bringing out the caution. When the race restarted,
Hayden went airborne just before the start finish line and was in turn hit by
Shane Jennings, who also flipped.

After the yellow, the race was on with 12 laps to go.
Axel was running fourth with Ryder, Justin and dad in front of him. He shot
down low with 9 to go and got past Ryder for third.

He bobbled a little on the backstretch allowing Ryder to
catch him again only to pass him on the front stretch.

“I think he can pull this off!” Tommy said nodding.

I couldn’t say anything. I was too busy biting my nails.
Yeah, that’s right. Twelve time NASCAR Cup Champion biting his nails over his
son racing in the Chili Bowl.

Justin held his ground for two laps before Axel swept
past him on the line. He was right on dad after that. Every move he made, dad
blocked him just like he should. It was going to take more than just talent to
get past old Jimi, Axel finally understood that when he pulled back about a car
length and followed every move he made, waiting for his opening. With one lap
to go on a quarter mile track, everyone, including me and Tommy thought Jimi
had the win.

I looked down for just a brief second as the cars came
out of turn two; the fifteen thousand fans went into an uproar, as did Spencer
and Tommy beside me. Looking up, I saw Axel shoot up the track into the
cushion, bounce off it and the inside rail only to slingshot forward into Jimi,
their nurf bars banging. They came out of turn four side-by-side and Axel
simply drove away as if it was no effort.

My son learned the art of patience.

He had the car to beat his grandpa all along. But he knew
if he made his move too soon, he’d spend the next few laps holding him off and
eating up his tires potentially allowing him to get back by him. This way, Jimi
was the one that ate up his tires holding Axel off.

I nearly cried.

All those times my dad told me how proud he was of me and
how seeing your child living their dreams meant far more than winning yourself,
that made sense to me now.

Tommy and Spencer hugged me, Van and Aiden hugged each
other. Casten was screaming with Lane, Cole, Noah and Charlie as we watched our
own bring home the victory.

My dad stopped in the middle of the infield, just like he
did when I won this event back in 99 and ran over to Axel.

Axel was the youngest driver in the history of the Chili
Bowl Midget Nationals to win. Three generations of drivers had finally been
placed on the wall.

The party in Axel’s pit was similar to the one that took
place when I won back then. Axel had his first beer. Casten told everyone his
brother won while Lane and Logan took advantage of all the girls swarming
around.

There was a smile plastered upon everyone’s faces that
night, including mine and my dad’s.

“He was strong out there.” Dad said drinking a beer
beside me as we watched Lily congratulate Axel with a kiss that made me a
little uncomfortable.

“He had patience.” I agreed slinging my arm around him.

Dad smiled, “Something you still don’t understand at
times.”

“I resent that.”

“You would
...
now
go party with your son. I’m exhausted.”

I knew I had patience. He was full of shit. I sat back
out of the spotlight that night. This was Axel’s time, not mine. I declined to
sign anything for the fans only to push them toward Axel. “He’s the talent.” I
would tell them. No one seemed to be overly offended by it. I just wanted them
to understand what this meant for him. It meant everything.

I knew this because when I won, it meant everything. All
the hard work was rewarded in a way that only a racer understood; victory.

The next morning was the first real conversation I was
able to have with Axel without someone around.

“How does it feel?” I asked him over breakfast before we
headed home. Sway was already planning a party with Emma for when we got back
to celebrate his win. Now just might be my only time to talk to him alone for a
few days.

“I’m not really sure
...
”
he smiled wide. “It hasn’t really sunk in yet.”

Pushing the front page of the Tulsa World toward him, I
smiled. “This might help.”

Spread across the front page was a picture of Axel
standing on the roll cage, his fist in the air with my dad beside him. The
title read:
The
kid dominates the legend.

He smiled while reading it and then pushed it aside
looking up at me. “Thanks dad.”

“For what?”

His eyes stayed focused with mine as if he was trying to
make me see before shrugging.

“For everything,”

25.
           
   Poppet - Jameson

Poppet – Valve
mechanism that continually opens and closes in response to variation in
pressure.

Not long after the season began that year, my sponsor,
Simplex, was promoting a driver challenge at Eldora with a few Cup, Outlaw and
truck series drivers.

Simplex had been promoting the event for months and we’d
finally strung up twenty three of us to race in the event the weekend after the
All-Star race during the bi-week before the Coca-Cola 600.

After doing press on Charlotte Motor Speedway, Casten and
I were on our way to Eldora for the 2-day event with Spencer, Bobby and Tate.
Axel, and most of my sprint car team were already there waiting for us with our
cars. Now we just had to get there.

About twenty minutes outside of Eldora, my phone started
ringing.

Most of the calls were from Alley. When I didn’t answer,
she then called Tate and then Bobby.

Casten, who was sitting next to me in the front seat,
turned down the stereo and looked back at Tate who shrugged. “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure. Here,” I handed him my cell phone and
tried to keep the truck on the road. “Check the messages for me.”

He did and immediately turned ridged. His face lost all
color and his eyes widening further, the alarm shining back at me.

“Dad, you should pull over.” He spoke softly handing me
his cell phone.

I looked at the screen to see that Sway was calling.

“Honey, what’s up? I thought you were on a plane to
Elma?”

“I was
...
I uh, we
landed and then I saw on the news
...
” my
wife’s hysterical response broke through. “Oh god Jameson, I thought you were
on that plane!”

“What plane?”

“The one heading to Eldora,”

“Well no, Casten and I decided to drive with Tate,
Spencer and Bobby. We are meeting the team there. What’s going on?”

Sway was silent for a moment as I watched Casten dig out
his iPad to look at the news. The guys observed over his shoulder.

Sway fumbled through a string of words that took me a
moment to decipher and then it hit me what she said
...
plane crash.

“Honey, please slow down, what are you talking about?”

My mind raced to comprehend. Adrenaline jolted through me
sending a sharp pain through my bones.

Pausing to control herself, her voiced evened out.
“Jameson
...
your team plane crashed
outside Lancaster Ohio on its way to Eldora.”

My stomach dropped. I had just watched half the team load
onto that plane in Charlotte.

Gentry
...
Ethan
...
Jeb
...
Wes
...
Cal
...
Andy
...
Trace
...
oh
god.

Half my team and Tate’s team was on that plane and I was
supposed to be along with Spencer, Casten, Tate and Bobby but we drove because
we got caught up in press after the race.

My wife’s voice drew me from my thoughts.

“Jimi just called and said Eldora cancelled the races
this weekend. He asked that you guys just come home.”

I couldn’t form a reply. Sitting there staring off at the
Highway, I couldn’t reply.

My fingers clamped over the wheel, knuckles paling, and I
dropped the phone. Casten quickly scrambled beside me to retrieve it.

I couldn’t focus much less drive so Spencer took over.

I called Alley, who was already doing damage control to
see what she knew. Sway stayed in Elma for the time being until I told her
where I was going. I knew one thing. I needed to get to Charlotte as that would
be where most teams would be gathering.

“Jameson,” Alley answered right away. “I need you guys to
head back to NC and stay in Charlotte tonight. There will be a press conference
held in the morning and they will announce the plans from there.”

“What plans?” I motioned for Spencer to pull over so we
could turn around and head to Charlotte.

“You do realize who was on that plane, don’t you?”

“Well, mostly my team and Tate’s but Andy too.”

Alley was silent.

“Alley?”

“Jameson, at least three of the truck series drivers were
on that plane along with Andy, Colin, and two Nationwide series drivers.”

“Oh.”

It was my plane and I knew most of the guys boarding it
when it left but I had no idea all those people were on it. Wes frequently gave
guys rides when they needed it and he knew I would never object to it. But the
fact they were on a plane I owned, and it crashed, felt as though it was my
fault.

Our community, my racing family, had lost members of
their family today and though I knew deep down it wasn’t my fault, it didn’t
stop from taking a piece of me.

Just as a reciprocating engine is made up of systems that
keeps it running so is the racing community. There’s one that keeps the pistons
moving, one that keeps the belts moving, one that keeps oil flowing and one
that creates spark. They are all connected. Take one out of the equation and
guess what, that engine that kept you going is no longer there and everything
falls apart.

Take drivers from the series and you feel it.

That checkered flag you saw in the distance becomes a
yellow flag. Until they fail, or one is taken from the equation, you don’t
realize how much you depend on those pistons, cylinders, belts, and oil.

Poppet – Sway

Death is such a surreal thing to me. It lies and waits
under the surface waiting to consume. It’s noticeable but hovering and ready to
take victim at any moment.

I didn’t waste time in Elma after I heard about the
accident. Arie and I flew back to Mooresville that night and helped with the
devastation. I knew I couldn’t offer much but I’d help in any way I could.
Those drivers, those crew members and pilots all had family and I could be
there for them.

Tate’s teammate, Andy Crockett, one of the drivers on the
plane, was married and had kids the same age as Arie and Casten. My heart ached
for his wife Erica and I wondered how in the world she was managing right now.
I couldn’t comprehend the feeling I had when I thought that Jameson was on that
plane and the relief, though incredibly reassuring, was immediately forgotten
when I realized that just because Jameson, my world, wasn’t on that plane
didn’t mean that there wasn’t a handful of others on it who had family.

When I got to the shop where Alley told me Jameson was, I
heard the sounds of screaming and destruction coming from inside his shop. I
could hear things being smashed and destroyed over his pain.

Opening the door, it pushed open but with resistance from
the parts that had been hurled against it.

He stood, in the middle of the shop, bent forward with
his hands resting on the wing of a sprint car.

He turned slightly, his body remained in line with the
car, and just his head moved at the sound of the door. His brow furrowed, lines
forming in the outer corners, his expression boarding painful, his eyes dark to
match his lashes.

When he noticed it was me, he turned to meet me walking
toward him. He was scared and he was angry. He also had every right to feel
both.

“Honey, you really shouldn’t be in here.” His voice was
firm but breakable as he stared down into my eyes, his face an unreadable
contrast to my own. He scratched the back of his neck slowly, his head hung in
defeat. Regret and sadness were easy. Moving forward wasn’t. I knew that just
as Jameson did. But I’d be here for him.

Just the same as I’d heard those very words back in
California all those years back, I ignored them because he was a man, my
husband, needing me again.

When I looked at him, I could see the same fire I’ve
always seen but it was trying to go out with the winds created.

I felt him lower his face to mine, his breath hitting my
lips.

Jameson’s lips trailed across my jaw stopping in their
path to kiss my lips and forehead, his nose delicately nudging against mine.

His lips were there next, brushing lightly against mine,
soft and feather-like.