Racing for Freedom

chapter Thirty Four



“Come on baby.”

I hear Slade’s words behind me as I start my car. A sick feeling swells in my stomach and my hands become sweaty. I can’t do this. I can’t. Slade reaches into the car and he takes my hand, pressing it to his lips.

“You can do this, just go nice and slow.”

I clench my eyes shut. I can do this. I can. I open my eyes and meet Slade’s encouraging stare. He doesn’t have to be here, I know somewhere deep down in his soul he’s hurting right now but he’s keeping it together for me. He’s cheering me on when he doesn’t have to be. If I don’t at least try this, I know part of him will be let down.

“Ok,” I whisper.

“I believe in you, baby.”

Slade kisses me once more and then closes the door. I stare at the track in front of me, I know it like the back of my hand. I know it and I can do it. I just have to go back to the place I was at before Slade’s accident. I slowly release the clutch and the car surges forward. I putter around the track at sixty, my breathing heavy, sweat slides down my forehead. By the time I’m on the second lap, my breathing is a little easier and I’m up to eighty.

By the time I hit the twelfth lap, I am up to a hundred and feeling the anxiety leaving my body. What is it they say? If you fall off a horse, you have to get back on again. It’s correct, the whole concept is entirely true. I manage to go up to one twenty and I do a few laps. When I finally come to a stop, my heart is pounding and adrenaline rushes through my body. I get out of the car and Slade comes rushing over, well, as fast as he can rush with crutches. I run towards him and at the last minute he drops his crutches and wraps his arms around me.

“You did it!” he cries. “Dashy, you f*ckin’ did it!”

“I did it!”

John claps and comes rushing over, my father is close behind. They both swing me around and we all cheer and laugh. When I look back at Slade, he’s staring at the car with a new determination.

“Give me the keys.”

“Slade son, your leg,” John says.

“It’s healed enough for me to press an accelerator, now give me the keys.”

Slade’s eyes are on mine, even though he answered John. It’s my father that speaks next, and his words surprise me.

“Give him the keys, he needs this. I never got back in a race car and I regret every minute I let pass, now it’s too late. Give him the keys Dash, let him do this.”

I stare at my father, and then turn back to Slade and slowly my hand stretches out to hand him the keys. He takes them from me and then leans in and whispers, “I believed in you, now you have to believe in me.”

“I do,” I whisper back. “Always.”

Slade dominates the track, he literally kills it. I thought he’d falter, I thought he’d crumble before he even got in the car but he didn’t. He started it up and put his foot on the accelerator, taking that leap. It was a way to release himself from the past and start again. He did that, he did it and he owned it. I’ve never been so proud of him in my entire life. When he gets out of that car, I run towards him. When we connect, his arms wrap around me and tears tumble down his cheeks.

“I did it Dashy, I did it.”

“Baby, you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

Our lips meet and our tears combine. I know one thing in that moment, and that is that his tears aren’t because he got in that car, or because he accepted that he would have to start again. Those tears, were that of freedom. Slade was free. Finally.