YOU CAN REBUILD A RACECAR
Saturday morning is beautiful and blue and windy. American flags flap in a wind that smells like America too, reeking of cigarettes and gasoline. Reds worried about his race car, because hes always worried about his race car, because thats easier than worrying about other things. Because when a race car wrecks, you can build it back into what it once was, and make it faster, more efficient. Because theres always another race for a car.
His tires keep wearing out. The turns are tighter on dirt because the track is smaller (the straightaways are only 400 feet vs. about 4,000 at the Superspeedway). Cars whip around them, drifting or sliding in a way thats more violent than it is on asphalt. The cars screech and the tires get hot, which helps them connect with the track, until, eventually, they get torn up. The key is finding a tire thatll get hot without wearing out, and then hoping the caution flag doesn't come out, because when a car slows down, its tires cool off, messing up its rhythm. A fast-going race car never wants to stop.
When Red decides on the tires to use, the crew cut grids in them so they can better grip the track. Then they put them on and get the cars ready to race: checking the oil, monitoring tire pressure, refueling. The cars are clean because Red has them wiped down at the end of the day. The crew clean off the red clay and the oily grease, and it gets on them, their hands and clothes getting dirtier and blacker.
Red always works with them, a driver and his crew. But today, hes on the same side, preparing the car for someone else, because after his time trials and his preparation, he has decided he cant race, and the reason is a reminder that mortality is unflinching and unsentimental: His stomach is acting up, and he worries the bumps of a dirt track might make him shit his pants, making dirty the car he likes to keep unsoiled.
I aint cleanin the seat, his crew chief says.
Reds grandson, Lee Burdett, is going to run in his place, as he has before. All Red can do is watch and hope that the tires run well and run fast and hook up to the track, and that when they do, they dont give up before the race is over.
Maybe one day Lee will replace Red in this car permanently, or some other driver will, giving new life to an old car. Today, it was his stomach. Five years ago it was pneumonia. Humans arent race cars. They get old. They cant be wiped clean or put back together or rebuilt. They cant be made better or faster, and with each race that passes Red by, the old man hes become grows a little farther from the young man he used to be.
Copied from the Bitter Southerner
updated by @johnny-mallonee: 12/16/16 07:54:33AM
