If it had been a normal Sunday they probably would have been out at Moonshine Valley as noon approached, but this wasn’t a normal Sunday. This was Memorial Day weekend Sunday, and it’s the biggest day for auto racing of the year. It was, of course, as it had been for most of a century, the date for the Indianapolis 500. Even though NASCAR had come to overshadow the open-wheel cars in recent years, the Indy 500 still held onto its traditional position as the premier event in auto racing in the United States, at least in the mind of the general public.

As if that weren’t enough, it was also the date for the Coca-Cola 600 in Charlotte, the longest NASCAR race of the season. Under various names it had been around for nearly a half century, a mere upstart next to the race a couple hundred miles south of Bradford.

Between the two, it added up to eleven hundred miles of racing, which made for a long day in anyone’s book.

Assuming the Indy 500 doesn’t go much longer than expected, there is usually a break of a couple hours between the two. For many years, it had been the tradition in the Austin household to fire up the grill in the back yard in the period between the television coverage of the two events. A few neighbors and racing buddies were invited, and a portable TV was taken outside so no one need miss any pre-race coverage.

Since the Austins and their racing buddies were mostly of the stock-car persuasion, the interest in the Indy 500 was a little limited. Politics and the drivers who consisted largely of foreigners had been part of the reason that the big event had been driven into the background in their minds. Indy was a chance to shoot the bull with friends, have a beer or two if of age, and only give casual interest to the proceedings in Speedway, Indiana, while they waited for the real racing to begin in North Carolina.

Arlene Austin was one of the few who really paid attention to the Indianapolis 500. She went back to the day when Indy was the big race of the year. What’s more, she’d known many people over the years whose big goal in life was to be able to race there, even once. She’d raced with many of those people, including Spud McElroy, one of her old bosses in the MMSA days – he’d driven there one year, and owned a car that had been driven there some other years, back in the front-engine roadster days. Although much of her life had been involved with stock cars, to her they were the upstarts and her heart remained with the open-wheel brigade.

Arlene was even older than her husband, Mel, and her health had not been good in recent years. She walked slowly and needed a cane to get around, so she didn’t get out a lot and only rarely even came to the races anymore. But she was not one to miss the Memorial Day party at her son’s house if she could arrange to be there, and this year she could manage it.

Telzey had only met Arlene a handful of times, but had learned that the old woman had a stock of stories about the old days that equaled her husband’s and even surpassed them in some ways. She was old enough to have been a nurse in the 8063rd Mobile Army Surgical Hospital – the real-life sister unit to the fictional 4077th MASH of television fame – and as a Korean War veteran had seen more death than she wanted. Memorial Day had special meaning to her, although she didn’t tell a lot of stories about those days. As a relative youngster she’d had a desire for adventure, to push the limits of what was then deemed acceptable for women, and that had led her into the Army, and then into racing for the MMSA. In many ways she’d been one of those people who cleared a path for Telzey, and the young girl was only beginning to appreciate it.

So Telzey was perfectly happy to sit next to the old woman, pay a little attention to the TV and much more to her. The afternoon had started off auspiciously when Arlene asked Telzey, “So how did you like driving the 2 car?”

“That was really neat,” Telzey gushed. “I mean, it was just parade-lap speeds, not racing speeds, but it was something special.”

“How would you like to race it if you could?” Arlene grinned.

“You know, I thought about that while I was riding around out there,” Telzey said hesitantly. “You may not like me saying this, but in a lot of ways it put me in mind of driving the tractor. I mean, not just sitting in the center with the wheels out in the open, but the fact that I was so out in the open as well. I guess I’ve gotten used to having a roll cage around me, and having a five-point harness rather than just a lap belt. It felt, well, I guess you could say like I was a target and someone was shooting at me. At least it would if I was racing it.”

Arlene smiled at her. “That’s probably closer to the truth than you imagine. When I started racing, most drivers had come around to the idea that a lap belt was a good idea, although not everyone by any means. I guess they had five-point harnesses in jet fighters, but they were just about unheard of in a race car, even an Indy car. I’ll tell you, Telzey, I look back at it today and wonder just how dumb I must have been to even consider doing something like that.”

“But you did it for years, and from everything I ever heard you did it pretty well,” Telzey protested.

“Which shows how dumb I was, I guess,” Arlene laughed, thought for a moment, then continued. “I really shouldn’t say that, though, especially to you. Driving a race car fifty years ago had an element of risk that was thrilling at the time, but it was one that we would consider unacceptable today. Part of the point of it was risking your life, sort of like skydiving or any number of other things. At the same time, it really wasn’t quite that risky. Although we had some injuries, we never had a death in a MMSA car. Part of that was because Frank and Spud made sure the cars were kept in top shape, and he insisted on helmets and lap belts. On top of that, there were always few enough cars on the track that it was never extremely crowded. There were racing deaths elsewhere, so many that in the mid-fifties there was a move to outlaw auto racing altogether. We still get a death in a race every now and then, like Dale Earnhardt a couple years ago, but they’ve become relatively rare compared to what we had back then.”

“Did the men resent you because you were a woman?”

“Oh, yes,” she shook her head. “Sometimes it was nearly intolerable. Other times men would think that just because I was hanging around race cars that I’d be easy to get into bed, and that caused more problems. From what I can tell a lot of that has gone away, but men being men it never will go all the way away. Still, it has to be a lot easier for you than it was for me. If it hadn’t been for Frank, Spud, and Mel I would have quit any number of times, but they stuck up for me a lot. Women have still got a long way to go in racing, but you could be the one to take the next step.”

“I’d like to think so,” Telzey replied. “But I really wonder if I can ever be that good.”

“I don’t think you did badly last night,” Arlene grinned. “You were what? Second in your heat, and third in your feature, if I recall correctly? That means you beat twenty-one other drivers in the feature. For someone with your level of experience, that was very good.”

“Well, when you put it that way, you could be right,” Telzey said. “Will beat me in the heat, but I was ahead of him in the feature. Alan Gustafson and I traded second back and forth most of the race. We might have been battling for the lead if Matt d’Lamater hadn’t come from the back of the field to beat everybody.”

“See?” Arlene smiled. “You’re learning. A few weeks ago you’d have been happy with tenth place in the feature. Now you’re frustrated with third. You’re learning, Telzey. You have a lot to learn but you’re picking up a lot every time you get on the track, at least partly because you realize that you have something to learn. A lot of men won’t admit that and it ends up limiting them in what they can accomplish.”

“Isn’t that kind of a hard opinion of men?” Telzey laughed.

“Not really,” Arlene replied. “Women have their own problems. One of the biggest in my mind is that they tend to accept limitations on what they can do, and as it works out it limits them in what they could accomplish. Don’t let someone else put limits on you, Telzey, and don’t set limits for yourself that are less than what you could do.”

Telzey wound up talking with Arlene for quite a while that afternoon, and neither of them paid much attention to the Indy 500. To Telzey’s surprise, little of what they talked about directly involved racing, or stories of the good old days, but it was a very thought-provoking discussion about a woman’s place in the world. As Telzey was to look back on it in later years, it was not only a big step in her improving her racing, it was a big step in growing up.

*   *   *

Since all the big race action was on Sunday, the activities at Moonshine Valley had to wait for Monday.

In a number of ways things promised to be different on this trip to Moonshine Valley than they had been on the last trip there. Of course, having the 4 car loaded onto one trailer and the two Pony Stocks on another was part of the reason, but a bigger reason was the fact that Susan was along. She had gotten home late the night before and Telzey hadn’t had a chance to talk to her, but she was up when Telzey got up.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t come to the picnic yesterday,” Telzey observed, still wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, I was out,” Susan replied defensively.

“Anyone I know?”

“Yes, it was Jack Kaufmann, your friend from the race track. We went out for a movie.”

“It must have been some movie, I didn’t see you all day,” Telzey smirked.

“It was kind of nothing,” Susan replied conceding that she’d have to admit a little more. “It was in Kalamazoo. We drove up there so Jack could show me the Western Michigan University campus. I’d never been there, I always thought it was too close to home until now.”

“Until now?” Telzey said in surprise. “You don’t mean . . .”

“Not yet,” Susan grinned. “But he is nice for a guy that hangs around race tracks. He said he was going over to Moonshine Valley to run on that dirt track with you guys today. Do you think it would be all right if I ride along?”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Telzey smiled, reading between the lines. “We probably need to let the Austins know so we can pack some extra pop and food, but that shouldn’t be any big deal. We’ve got time, after all.”

“Good, I guess I’ll go with you, then.” Susan smiled broadly. “Are you planning on taking your bikini again?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Telzey replied thoughtfully. “It’s going to be a nice day and in spite of everything it gets a little dull there at times. It’ll be a good time to work on my tan, and I really shouldn’t borrow one from Jill again, not that there was a lot in that one to borrow.”

“Good,” Susan grinned. “I’ll take one of mine and I guess we ought to take some of our own chaise lounges, too.”

“Showing off to Jack a little huh?” Telzey laughed, deciding to cut out the talking around the issue.

“Well, yes,” Susan replied, with just a little blush. “Just do me a favor, will you?”

“What?”

“Don’t take a bikini that’s too hot,” Susan laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to show me up.”

“Oh, it’s going to be like that, huh?”

As it turned out, it would have been almost impossible for Telzey to wear a hotter bikini than Susan, at least while wearing anything at all. What she wore was bright red, and from the backside there was nothing much to indicate that she was even wearing anything except for a few strategic spaghetti-strap-size strings. It was a little more modest from the front side, but only a little. Since Susan had little interest in working on the cars or standing around talking about them, she spent much of the time during hot laps and qualifications lying on her chaise lounge, sometimes reading a book, sometimes talking with Jack, who wasn’t getting much of anything useful accomplished. In fact, it would be fair to say that most anything in direct view was slower than normal getting accomplished, whoever the competitor was.

Since Will, Chuck, and Telzey had done much of the work on the 4 car over the past few weeks there was some debate over who was going to get to drive it. Ray said he would take a pass on it this week so long as he could take it out for a test run, and that simplified things considerably. They finally managed to thrash out that Will and Telzey would each run hot laps and a dash apiece with it, and that Chuck would drive it in the regular heats and feature – this week. Will and Telzey would flip a coin or something over who got to drive it in the heats and feature next week.

Since it was still early and the car was new, Ray took it out immediately, ran a couple easy laps then got on it, hanging the tail of the car out all the way through the corners, feathering the throttle to break the slide and blasting down the straights. He came back in after a few laps, pronounced the car “sweet,” then let Will run a few laps while he coached Telzey in how to drive it as she watched. Then, Chuck took it out, and Will gave her some coaching, as well.

Finally it was time for Telzey to drive it. At first she was a little tentative about the power slides, but after easing her way into it, found it was both surprisingly easy and worked very well, although it was clear that she was going to need some more practice to get really good at it.

Since Ray was the odd man out as a driver this week, he didn’t complain when Ed volunteered him to work the flags in turn one, the job Chuck had done a couple weeks before. Since they had three cars running in two different classes this week, they had a lot more activity on and off the track, so Telzey didn’t get in the time in the sun she had on her other trip to Moonshine Valley. Even so, there were long breaks when she peeled out of her fire suit and joined Susan on the other chaise lounge they’d brought. Jack seemed to spend a lot of time in their vicinity when he wasn’t on the track, and so did Will, at least when Telzey was there.

Since it was the first dirt race for the 4 car, they weren’t expecting to run away from the field of similar cars, and they didn’t. Chuck was a factor in both the heats and in the feature, coming in third in the latter. Will won one dash outright, and Telzey was second in hers, although starting order in the four-lap events was obviously a factor.

When the regular racing got under way, Susan picked up her chaise lounge and her book, and moved it to the top of the hill overlooking the track. She mostly lay out in the sun in her lounge chair watching the races. When Jack was in a race – which was all of the Pony Stock races that Will, Telzey, and Larissa were in – she got up, wandered down to the first turn next to Ray and watched the race from close up, so she could wave at Jack when he went by. Or at least, so she said.

Again, the drawings for the starting lineups may have been a factor, but Telzey and Larissa each won a heat and a dash, and Telzey won the feature in the class. Will and Jack pretty much traded third and fourth, with Jack coming out on the short end of the stick in the feature. The guys complained for months that they were distracted virtually every lap, thinking that they were seeing a red flag.

It was interesting to note that neither Telzey nor Larissa reported any problem with mistaking Susan’s bikini for a red flag. Telzey even giggled that a red flag would have made several bikinis of the size Susan was wearing.

*   *   *

Along in the middle of the afternoon when Matt was out in a Street Stock heat, both Chuck and Larissa happened to be taking a break from the sun in the shade of the picnic shelter, watching the race from one of the picnic tables. They talked about racing for a few minutes – Larissa was tickled with her Pony Stock heat win a while earlier – and somehow the discussion turned to Matt and Ashley.

“I don’t think anything has happened,” Larissa said with an evident hope that her statement wasn’t wishful thinking. “But I haven’t been with him all the time in the evenings, either.”

“I really don’t know much of anything,” Chuck replied. “I saw her sniffing around Matt Saturday night, but you were pretty much there when she was.”

“It’s driving me about half batty,” Larissa complained. “We only seem to see her at Bradford, I don’t know if she knows we go to Meridian and here. But she’s always around at Bradford. I told Matt right out that if he weren’t leading the points championship there that we ought to quit going. Maybe we could go up to Spartan on Saturdays, or something.”

“Yeah, that would screw him right out of the points championship, all right,” Chuck agreed. “He doesn’t have all that much of a lead. He’s got Alan, Jack, and Will all right there, and if any of them has a bad week they’re pretty much screwed unless the others do too.”

“That’s the problem,” she sighed. “He says that if he wins the points championship this year it’ll probably be the last year for Pony Stocks. He wants to get into a traveling series on pavement, and he’s talking about something like Short Track Trucks.”

“That’s a good series and it’s several steps up,” Chuck agreed. “He’s going to need a heck of a good points finish if he hopes to raise the kind of sponsorship he needs to run those things.”

“Right,” she sighed. “I can’t insist that he screw that up just because some crazy bitch is sniffing around him. But I’ll tell you, Chuck, I’m worried. What if she’s sniffing around him in Paddington when I’m not looking? I can’t be with him all the time!”

“Then don’t be,” he suggested. “In fact, be with him a little less than all the time you have. You’re working right? Get him a little confused about when you’re working, then take a pass by his house every now and then. Look for a white Chrysler.”

“White Chrysler?” Larissa furrowed her brow.

“Ashley used to drive a red Mustang, but her dad took it away from her,” he explained. “At least I haven’t seen her driving it around town for a month. But I hear that when she wants to go anywhere her mother lets her borrow her Chrysler. I don’t remember the plate but when I see it I’ll write it down. I could call you or e-mail it to you.”

“Yeah, I guess you can,” she sighed. “Damn, it’s hard to not trust a boyfriend like this, especially when me getting to race is involved.”

Chuck thought about it for a moment. Was he sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong? “Tell you what,” he offered. “If it falls apart, give me a call. We could maybe haul your car down to Bradford and store it in the shop or one of the barns. You could still race down there without him involved.”

“I don’t want to do it,” she shook her head. “I really don’t want this thing with Matt to fall apart. But if it does . . . well, maybe I’ll think about it.”

“No strings attached,” he promised with a laugh. “We Austins have a long tradition of helping other racers out when they’re dealing with personal problems. Dad tells lots of stories about hiding stuff, even whole cars, from wives that have a problem with how much money their husbands are spending on racing. This strikes me as being only a little bit different.”

“Just a little different,” she giggled. “Have you ever had a girlfriend hide her car from her boyfriend?”

“Not that I know of, but I don’t know all the stories,” he laughed. “Anything is possible.”

“Hey, thanks for the idea, and the fall-back position,” Larissa said seriously. “I hope neither of them is necessary, but, well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “In fact, Ashley did a pretty good job of teaching me.”

“It still bothers you, huh?”

“Yeah, it does,” he nodded. “Not that I lost her, or anything like that, because I’m glad to be rid of her. It’s just I don’t know how I got sucked into her life in the first place. I had to be really stupid. I kind of miss having a girlfriend, but I sure don’t need one like that. Oh, well. Someone will turn up, and maybe it’ll even be someone that likes racing.”

“Looks like Jack’s well on the way,” she giggled, nodding at their fellow racer, who was sitting on the chaise lounge close to Susan. In fact, very close to Susan.

“Oh, yeah,” Chuck smiled. “I’ve known her for years. I even thought about taking a run at her when she got home from college the first of the month, but she’s almost three years older than me, she’s going to college, and, well, it just didn’t seem to fit. She’s all right, but I get the impression she could be a handful, too. Well, if so, it’s his problem.”

*   *   *

Once the racing finally wound down for the day, they loaded up the Pony Stocks on one of the trailers, and parked the 4 car at one end of the pit area. Unlike some of the other cars that were just allowed to sit, they took the effort to throw a tarp over it and tie it down. At one point there had been talk about hauling it back to Bradford this week in case it needed some adjustments or if they found something that needed work, but the minor things they found were all taken care of even before they got the 24 and 89 cars loaded.

“Nuts,” Will complained on the way home. “After everything that’s happened this weekend, now we have to go to school tomorrow.”

“It’s the last week,” Telzey said. “Then we’ve got all summer. We’re not going to be racing, working at the track or working on cars all the time. We’ll just have to find something else to do sometime, and I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with that. Hey. It’s been weeks since we’ve been on the ATV or the cart. I admit, it seems a little like small potatoes after racing real cars, but it’s something different to do.”

“That’d get old after a while, too,” he complained. “It’s just too bad that we busted our fannies getting the 4 car done. It would have made a great project for when we’re out of school.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, then said, “In fact, uh, Dad . . .”

“No,” Ray laughed. “Believe it or not, we have enough race cars for the moment, I think. You’re going to be racing three days of the week as it is.”

“Yeah, but what do we do the other four days?” Will replied, only half in jest. “Well, let’s see, if we don’t pick up trash till Monday, then there goes at least part of one. And if we mow grass on Friday, maybe Telzey could get her Saturday afternoon nap and then go kick d’Lamater’s butt on the track in the evening.”

“Yeah, but that louses up my Friday afternoon nap,” Telzey replied in mock seriousness. I’m not too worried about finding something to do. Sometimes it’s a darn sight worse when you’re stuck on a foreign Army base and there’s nothing much on TV in English. And then, a lot of the time it’s soccer, and who cares even if you can figure out who’s playing.”

“I guess,” Will said thoughtfully. “I’ve never had all that much trouble finding something to do in the summer, anyway. Telzey, we’ll think of something.”

“We might as well enjoy it now,” she replied. “It’s not going to be all that long before we have to be working all summer, and that’ll really take the fun out of things.”

*   *   *

The last week of school raced by in a flash. There were no more regular classes, just review and tests. Both Will and Telzey had been pulling down good grades, and the school policy was that if you were getting an “A” in a class you didn’t have to take the final. Neither of them were all “A” students, but they had good enough grades to miss about half the tests, which made studying for the other half easier.

On the next to last day of school, they gathered with Kayla at lunchtime in the cafeteria for the last time that they would be subjected to the school’s excuse for pizza, at least until next fall. “It’s hard to believe that we’re going to be in high school this fall,” Kayla observed. “Even though we’re going to be freshmen, it ought to be neat when cross country season rolls around.”

“Right,” Will grinned. “Mostly because you and Rachel will get to run higher-level meets, maybe even go to state.”

“I could have gone to state this year if I’d been in high school,” Kayla snorted. “I’ve run the track where they run regionals, and my time there would have gotten me in easily.”

“Well, that’s you,” Will said. “I don’t think they’re going to start a state short track league any time soon, but if they did I think Telzey and I might qualify for going to the state meet.”

“There’s got to be other high school kids racing Pony Stocks or Hornets or something around the state,” Kayla said. “Maybe your dad could hold an invitational or something.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Will grinned. “It’d be something to wave in the faces of those football players, not that it was difficult last year when they went three and six.” He shook his head. “Oh, wow, I just realized what that means. It means that we’re going to be in high school at the same time as Ashley.”

“Well, I don’t plan on letting her bother me,” Telzey said. “In fact, I haven’t heard of her making many waves recently. Maybe her dad setting her down did some good. Besides, I still have hopes that I’m not going to be here in the fall anyway.”

“You mean, if your folks come home?” Kayla asked. “Have you heard anything more on that?”

“No,” Telzey sighed. “I’ve talked to both Mom and Dad, and they say they don’t have any idea either. Usually being on temporary duty like they are doesn’t go over six months, but it’s over that for Dad now, and will be for Mom at the end of the summer. From what I can make out from TV, they’re talking about fifteen-month tours now, so it could easily be a year from now, or maybe even longer. It just depends on how things go in Iraq.”

“They don’t look like they’re going good,” Will commented. “In fact, it sounds like things are getting worse rather than better.”

“Which is why I’m glad my folks are in Kuwait,” Telzey replied. “Of course that doesn’t mean that either or both of them aren’t on their way to Baghdad right now and I just haven’t heard about it yet.”

“Guess you just have to stick it out till it’s over with,” Kayla said, and decided to change the subject before Telzey got morose, which Kayla had seen her do in the past. “So you got any plans for the summer, besides racing?

“Not really.” That and work at the track, I guess.”

“Maybe you’ll find the time to come over and hang out with me a little,” Kayla smiled. “Rachel and I hang out a lot in the summer. We don’t always run or train for triathlons. Sometimes we lie around the pool, work on our tans, and talk about running or training for triathlons. Or, once in a while, even boys.”

“At least I’ve got one to talk about,” Telzey grinned broadly at Will. “Yeah, I might have to get with you two sometime. I need to give Will a break once in a while anyway.”

“Next week, sometime, maybe,” Kayla suggested. “The pool is getting warm enough that it’s fun to mess around there. It’s still a little cool at the swimming hole out at Rachel’s, although we gave it a try last weekend and it wasn’t too bad.”

“That sounds like fun,” Telzey admitted. “But how do I get out there? I know you use going out to Rachel’s as an excuse to run six miles out there and six miles back, but I don’t even get to drive six miles in heat races if there aren’t any caution flags.”

“Oh, we’ll work out something,” Kayla said. “I’ve got a bike I never use. You could ride along while I run.”

“Well, maybe,” Telzey admitted. “I’ve got a bike, but it’s down at our house at Ft. Bragg.”

“I don’t have a bike,” Will snorted. “I’m totally a car person. If I can’t bum a ride or maybe take the ATV, I don’t go.”

“You know, Will, you really could use the exercise,” Kayla said in admonishment. “It’s not good to ride everywhere you go.”

“How about I meet you halfway?” Will smiled. “I know a guy with a Kawasaki 500 that needs rebuilding, maybe I could do that this summer. That’s a bike, after all.”

“You could if you want to do a rice burner,” Kayla laughed. “You ought to hold out for a real bike if you’re going to do that route. Something like the Hog my mom rides.”

“Hog?” Telzey frowned. “Your mother rides a Harley?”

“That could sound like an insult, you know,” Kayla laughed. “But yes, she does. She has for years now. A ’76, if you want to know.”

“You know, Kayla,” Will grinned, “most people think my family is a little nuts for being so into racing, but you know, we don’t have the corner on being nuts in this town.”