Running Wide Open (25 page)

“Kid, I owe you my life,” he said after consuming half a slice. “The only thing that would make this better was if we were eating it at Track Town. I am
so
ready to get out of here.”

Race might think he was ready, but I knew he wasn’t. Every time he stood up he got so dizzy he had to clutch the IV pole to keep from falling over. The vertigo was better than it had been a few days before, but it was still scary to see.

“Y’know, I appreciate you coming by every day to entertain me,” Race said. “It must be pretty boring.”

“That’s all right. Nobody’s charging me admission to get in.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“Doesn’t the track have insurance?”

“Yeah, but I have no idea how much it will cover, and Kasey refuses to talk about the subject. She keeps giving me her standard, ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about things like that,’ line.”

Race reached for a second slice of pizza. I was already working on my third.

“Denny came by after you left yesterday,” he said, redirecting the conversation. “He wants to take you out to the track tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll stay here with you.”

“You should go,” Race argued. “You’ll like it. The Fourth of July’s the biggest event of the season. They’ve got fireworks, a demolition derby, double points in all the divisions . . .”

“Dude, you’ve gotta stop thinking about those points.”

Race gave me a look that said,
yeah, like
that’s
gonna happen
.

“I want you to go. You’ve been spending too much time here with me.”

“It’s my time. I can spend it however I like.” I pulled a fourth slice away from the pizza. Race tossed the better half of his second back in the box. He still wasn’t eating much, and it made me uneasy.

“Kasey thinks you should go,” he said.

“Kasey thinks you should move in with her,” I countered.

Sighing, Race looked up at the ceiling. “Would it shock you to learn I talked to my mother about that very subject last night?”

I stared at him. “Yeah. It would.”

“Well, I did. I still don’t like the idea, but she was making noises about having you move in with her.”

“You gonna take the loan, too?”

Race’s jaw tensed. “That was part of the deal.”

Much as I knew it was the only practical solution, I felt for him. I pulled the pepperonis off my pizza slice, savoring them one by one. “It’s only for a little while,” I said. “By the end of the summer, we’ll find ourselves an apartment. That was what you’d planned to do anyway, right?”

Race didn’t answer.

“And I’ll go to the speedway with Denny tomorrow. It’ll prob’ly be fun.”

“It’ll be the first Fourth of July race I’ve missed since I was ten.” Race studied the ceiling tiles again.

I’d seen him grumpy about rainouts and disheartened by Kasey’s rejection, but never seriously bummed. How was I supposed to make him feel better? He’d always been the one reassuring me.

“Do me a favor, kid. Tell Kasey and have her take you to the trailer to pack up some of our stuff tonight. I don’t want to have to go over it again with her.”

“Sure.” I jammed the rest of my pizza into my mouth and closed the box, saving the rest of it for Race. Maybe he’d eat more later.

“You wanna watch some TV?” I asked around a mouthful of pizza crust.

“I wanna take a nap. But go for it.”

I decided to finish up the story I was writing, instead. Race slept for a couple of hours, long enough for me to work through the ending then go back and mess with some details I didn’t like.

“Still scribbling in that notebook, huh?” Race’s voice startled me out of my fictional world. “You’re never gonna tell me what that’s about, are you?”

“Prob’ly not.”

Race watched me for a second then looked up at the clock. “Wow. It’s almost four.”

“You got a hot date or something?”

“Only with the physical therapist.”

I shut the notebook and jammed my pen into the wire spiral. “I take it that’s my cue to leave.”

“No offense, kid, but I’ve gotta maintain my dignity.”

Nodding, I got up. I was used to being booted out by hospital staff. “No problem. But I need you to sign something for me, first. There’s this karate tournament up in Portland on Saturday. I’m not ready to compete, but the sensei says we should all go to show our support for the people who are.” I dug a crumpled release form out of my pocket, smoothing it and placing it on the table, which I rolled in front of Race.

“Oh.” I pulled the pen out of my notebook. “I guess you’ll need this.”

Race eyed it like it was road kill.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He reached for the pen, knocking it onto the blankets.

“Don’t you want me to go?”

“No kid, it’s not that . . .” He groped for the ballpoint, shifting it into the proper position with his other hand.

“Well, what?”

The pen shook slightly in Race’s grasp. His face was a mask hiding a riptide of emotion. Images from the last few days flashed through my head—Race wrestling with the Twinkie wrapper, pawing at the remote, fighting to open the pizza box. Suddenly it was obvious. Why had it taken me so long to see? Stunned by the revelation and the enormity of the loss it meant, I slipped the pen from his clenched fingers.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t want to go, anyway. It’s, like, a two-hour drive.”

Race closed his eyes, leaning heavily back into the pillows as I signed his name to the paper. Crap, why did I have to go putting him on the spot like that? Why couldn’t I use my damn head for once?

“It’ll be okay. Really. I mean, that’s what therapy’s for, right?”

Race was quiet.

I didn’t know what to do. It was like watching the Olympic flame go out and trying to compensate with a Bic lighter. Awkwardly, I reached out and gripped his shoulder.

“This ain’t gonna beat you, dude.”

Race’s eyes flickered open at my touch. For a brief second, I saw everything he was feeling—the fear, the pain, the humiliation.

I would have given anything to make it go away.

* * *

As I rode the bus down Hilyard, I replayed the afternoon in my mind and wished I could erase it. It was bad enough for Race to miss out on the Fourth of July and have to take Grandma’s money. Why had I pulled out that stupid release form and made things worse?

Kasey was putting together a set of heads when I got to the shop. When I told her what Race had said about the trailer, she set down the valve spring compressor.

“I’d better give him a call.”

“No! He doesn’t want to talk about it. He said we should take care of things.”

Kasey frowned. “I have to discuss the details with him. How will I know what he wants us to pack?”

“I’ll help you figure it out. Don’t call him. He’s had a really lousy day.”

“What happened?”

I told her what I’d learned at the hospital, expecting a look of concern, but Kasey’s face didn’t register even the slightest surprise.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Cody.”

“What? You
knew
about it? Why does everyone keep hiding stuff from me?” Hurt and anger surged through me, fighting for dominance in a race too close to call. I could understand Race and Kasey keeping things from each other—I could even sympathize with Race for being too embarrassed to admit his limitations. But how could Kasey leave me in the dark?

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I was hoping this would resolve itself and never become an issue.”

“But it hasn’t.”

“No. Everything else is getting better, just not that.”

“But he’s an artist!”

Kasey nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I could have saved both of you some grief. But Race isn’t dealing with this very well, and I suppose I was trying to protect him. He won’t talk about it—not even to me.”

A whisper of fear grew inside me, and I eyed her warily. “What else haven’t you told me?”

“Nothing.”

“What about the insurance?”

“That’s not an issue. Even if there’s a problem, Sacred Heart can’t force him to pay. It’s in their charter.”

I scowled. “And you think Race is gonna take their charity?”

Kasey’s lack of response was answer enough.

“That’s why you won’t talk to him about it,” I said.

“Yes.”

Couldn’t she see she was making it worse?

“I know you’re trying to protect him, Kasey, but you’re doing it all wrong. He’s stressed out not knowing, plus you’re taking away the only control he has.” I gave her a critical look. “
You
wouldn’t like it.”

Kasey turned back to the partially assembled head on the workbench. “I’ll take that under advisement,” she said stiffly.

* * *

Low rays of evening sunlight slanted through the grimy windows of the trailer as Kasey and I stood in the front room, looking at the mess. In spite of what I’d told her about helping, I didn’t know where to begin. A lot of my things were already at Kasey’s and the rest would be easy to box up. But Race’s stuff was another story.

“What do we pack?” I asked.

“For now, just clothes and personal items. The rent’s paid through the end of the month, so there’s no hurry. I’ll talk to Race about it in a week or two. By then he might be ready to let us put the rest of it in storage.”

I nodded, my gut clenching at the sight of the drafting table, which I’d been trying to ignore.

“Go pack your things,” Kasey suggested gently. “I’ll take care of Race’s.”

It was better in my room, but not by much. I pulled a pile of collapsed boxes out from under my bed, shaking my head as I remembered how I’d saved them. I’d been so sure Race would kick me out.

Using the proper tool—duct tape—I reassembled the boxes and secured the bottoms. Then I began shoving things into them at random. Once the drawers in the dresser and desk were empty, I started on the walls. As I took the target off the closet door, my fingers traced the upraised edges of the paneling where the shuriken had penetrated. Race had been so pissed. I almost laughed when I thought of how he’d handed me the phone book. Typical Race. I’d been such an idiot, fighting him. How could I not have realized he was gonna be the best thing that ever happened to me?

Suddenly furious, I ripped down the rest of the posters and photos, oblivious to torn edges. Until I came to the Superbird drawing. Compared to the stuff Race had pinned above his drafting table, it was rough and unpolished—the work of an artist still discovering his talent. My fingers trembled as I removed the tacks that held it in place. I sank onto the bed, staring at the sketch.

“Cody? Are you about done in here?” Kasey spoke from the doorway, but I couldn’t look up.

“It’s not fair,” I whispered, wiping the tears from my face. One fell on the paper, spotting the #43 on the Superbird’s door. Gently, I brushed it away.

Kasey sat down beside me, tucking her arm around my shoulders. My hand shook as I held the drawing out for her to see.

“He drew this for me when I was five.”

Hot tears obscured my vision as Kasey’s arms drew me close. This time, she didn’t try to find comforting words. Neither one of us would have believed them.

Chapter 24

Visiting Race the next day was awkward. Both of us tried to pretend nothing had happened, but it didn’t work. I felt like I had a weird advantage over him, and it made me want to do something to balance the score. So when Denny came to pick me up I ripped the story I’d finished the day before out of my notebook and handed it to Race.

An uneasy feeling hung in the back of my mind as Denny and I drove to the track. Everyone was gonna ask about Race. What was I supposed to say? But Denny had that covered.

“You stick by me, Cody. Anyone starts asking questions you don’t wanna answer, you let me handle it, okay?”

I nodded.

As we pulled into the pits, the biting scent of racing fuel drifted through the cab, bringing a tsunami of overpowering memories. Instantly I knew it had been a mistake to come. People were unloading cars, lifting toolboxes out of truck beds, and lining up for hot laps as if it were any ordinary Saturday. The activity struck me like a fist to the gut. How could Race’s friends just go on like nothing had happened?

Holly Schrader came up behind me while Denny was backing his car off the trailer.

“Hi, Cody. I didn’t expect to see you here today. How’s Race?”

The two Whoppers with cheese Denny had bought me on the way to the track churned in my stomach.

“He’s doing great,” Denny said, hefting his girth through the comparatively small window of the Camaro. “Cody, you wanna climb up and unload those tires for me?”

I crawled into the back of the pickup, and Denny gave Holly the latest update, sparing me from having to say anything.

“I don’t think I want to be here,” I said after Holly left.

“It’ll get better,” Denny said. “You’ll like the derby.”

Yeah, just what I wanted to see—cars crashing into each other on purpose.

Though Denny did a good job of deflecting people’s questions, I couldn’t dodge all the well-wishing. I knew people were trying to make me feel better, but it didn’t work. I just wanted them to leave me alone. The only one in the Sportsman class who didn’t say anything was Jim.

After the trophy dash, which Addamsen won, I saw Steve making his weekly pilgrimage to the concession stand.

“I’ll be right back, Denny. There’s something I gotta take care of.”

I found Alex by the hearse, chilling in the lawn chair he always brought. He smiled when he saw me.

“Cody, hey! I stopped by the hospital a couple of times last week, but I missed you. How are you holding up?”

I shrugged.

“Any word yet on when they’re going to let Race go home?”

“Probably Thursday. He still gets pretty dizzy when he’s up walking around.”

Alex nodded. “They’ll want him to be steady on his feet before they let him go. But from what I heard last week, he’s doing really well.”

Except that he wasn’t. I thought of him clenching my pen—that walled-off look on his face—and a train wreck of emotions slammed into me. It was one thing to cry with only Kasey around, but I was mortified by the idea of blubbering in front of everybody. Knowing if I said a word I’d lose it altogether, I froze. Alex took one look at me, grabbed my arm, and led me around to the relative privacy of the back of the hearse. He opened the door and motioned for me to sit.