Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Worthless ❯ Speed 6: Life is a Raceway ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

By: MellyN

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Worthless

Speed 6: Life is a Raceway

By: Melissa Norvell

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It wasn't the home I once knew.

It was cramped and small. To be truthful, it was kind of lonely. I missed Nash and Metro. I missed the life I once knew. I suppose that doesn't matter now. I have to deal with what I have.

This was my new home. There was no one here to give me advice. King was four years younger than I was. I guess I had to experience things on my own somehow, but this wasn't the way I had anticipated on doing it. I guess no one is ever truly ready to be on their own.

I wonder if my master felt this same way I do right now. He's probably happy that he doesn't feel oppressed by his parents' strict rule. I bet he's celebrating the fact that he can do pretty much anything he wants for the time being.

So, he wants to be a racecar driver after all? What does that mean for me? What was going to happen now that things were changing? Did he really plan on converting me into a street car like King had said earlier?

I can't get too excited about something I don't know about, especially with feelings like these.

I wish I knew how to feel at the moment. I feel so…lost right now. For the last two weeks, I've been sitting in the garage, silent. I haven't spoken to King much. I just kind of sat there idly, staring off into oblivion and thinking about all of the changes that might come into my life. King tried to start conversations with me but they would quickly die off, due to my lack of enthusiasm.

One day, when our masters came home from their college classes, I pulled up into the small garage as usual and parked until I was needed once more. Ken, Jordan and my master all hopped out and went inside to study and watch the races on television together. My master did seem a lot happier about doing things like that, now that he was away from his parents. He even attended the street races every weekend, and became quite enthusiastic about them.

Maybe King was right.

"Hey, Expresso…You're not very happy. Are you?" The raspy voice cut into my thoughts and broke me out of my contemplative state. I glanced over to see King, and again, I didn't say much.

"It's not that."

"What is it? I mean, you sit in here day after day and you just stare at the wall. At first, I thought you were just shy, but you look kind of forlorn. If you face gets any longer, we'll have to add a couple of inches to your nosecone," the Barracuda was observant. I was forlorn.

"I'm just wondering about what my fate will be now," I replied simply.

"You act like you're going to get scrapped or something. Change won't kill you. You might not like it, but it's always going to be present in your life," King advised. "Don't depress over it, because you move forward no matter what. Life is a highway, in a lot of ways. You might take a couple of turns off of the main path, but you'll always hop back on the on ramp and reach your final destination."

When I thought about it, that explanation made perfect sense.

I should have been happy that I still had the same master, and that I was in good hands. If I was going to become a street racer, I couldn't worry about damaging myself, other cars or people. It was my purpose as an automobile to live my life according to my master's plan. Whatever Blake wanted to use me for was a fate that I would have to accept. I couldn't be afraid. I had to remain strong.

Even if it was hard to do.

"You're right," I admitted. Ironic that it was a younger car that taught me a valuable outlook on life. "I like your metaphor. Who told you that?"

"I made it up myself, actually," the Barracuda smiled slightly. "I've always thought of it like that. A highway is something you need to get on to make it to major points. Life is like that. You travel on one path to get all of the critical stuff done."

"So, what's the starting point? An on ramp?"

"Yeah, and the final off ramp would lead to the junkyard," King seemed excited about this conversation. I had to admit that it was a little creepy that it said that line a little too happily for the subject matter.

"So…What is the emergency lane for? Is it for cars that can't make the whole trip?" I wondered aloud.

King was lost in thought for a moment. "Some cars don't stay there though. Some get right back into traffic."

"Like you?"

The red vehicle chuckled a little and didn't quite give me a real answer, "I'm this year's model, actually. You'd know that experience more than I would."

"No I wouldn't. I've only seen other cars in the emergency lane. I felt bad for them." Remembering those poor automobiles' helplessness and futility as they awaited uncertainty on a second chance made my brakes lock up.

"Well, we could end up just like them someday," King's words turned dark. "I've been to the junkyard, and it's not a place that anyone wants to be."

"Did you see it driving by, or did you actually go there, King?" I couldn't help but question the disturbed car about its experience.

"My master needed to get some parts for me from a scrap yard once," the Barracuda's voice was low. "I'll never forget what I saw there. It was a graveyard of car skeletons, a place where wrecks and outdated vehicles went to be picked apart and hauled off to the steel recycling mill. It was one of the first reality shocks that I've ever had. I've never seen cars like those before. It made me think a lot about my own condition."

I never knew that King knew anything about the junkyard. It had seen a grim side of life that most cars dreaded and feared. Becoming worthless was something that no car wanted or strived for. It was our worst fear to become such a thing.

"You seem pretty shook up. What exactly did you see?" Part of me didn't want to know, but part of me couldn't help but ask.

"I saw a lot of things. I don't even want to talk about some of them. It makes me want to throw a rod just thinking about it. The looks on their front ends…Well, those that had them…this missing parts, the devastation and the death. You could go crazy in there just sitting around all of those cars. You could tell the ones that have sat there for a while from the ones that haven't. They were just depressed and numb to everything. Either that or they were crazy and suicidal. It made me wonder if I'd ever be like that if I thought my life was over.

They were stacked on top of each other with grim expressions as they waited to just…die. Some of them still ran, and some of them had nothing left to give. They were damaged and crushed, they lacked lacquer and paint…To listen to one talk to you…To hear the stories of the past, and how they ended up where they were now…" Headlights of fear and sorrow slowly turned to me. "I don't want to end up like some of them. I don't know if I can accept the fact that I'd be a wreck. I want to live a life of usefulness-"

I cut King's speech of paranoia off before its haunting voice could shake me anymore. "You were made this year, King. You shouldn't worry about things like that," I attempted to chide the vehicle. I'd never seen a car like King fall apart like that. The junkyard actually outright horrified it down to its axels.

It made me think a little about what really ran through King's engine when it was nearly flipped over. It must have had a lot of faith in its master.

"I shouldn't, and I try not to…but, the truth is…" King trailed, before it let out the rest in a whisper. "It haunts me. Even the deaths of cars I've seen on the street doesn't get to me as bad as that place did. I just lose control when I think about it. In a lot of ways, I always try to do my best to ensure that I don't end up there. If I do, I want to end up there in pieces. Destroy me on the race track first." It was so adamant about dying before it ever got to see that place before. In ways, I don't blame it for thinking like that, but I wondered just how horrifying it was. To give King even a minor scare seemed hard to do, but to plague it with paranoid delusion was serious. The Barracuda sounded nearly crazy when it was talking about that wretched place.

"I really don't think of a place like that until I feel like I might end up there. I've never been to a junkyard, and it sounds terrible the way you put it. I can't help to think though, that when I do end up there, I'll be happy with what I've accomplished," the aspect of being sent to the junkyard before you could accomplish your sense of usefulness was horrible, but I didn't want to think that I'd go out like that. If I was happy with the job I've served, then I'd be happy to die with accomplishment.

It was a peaceful thought of mine, anyway.

My stay in the apartment was one of great use. Blake was busy with studies, races and parties. When he wasn't at home studying, he was at the street races with Ken and Jordan.

I became quite popular for just showing up. Everyone pretty much took a shining to Blake, and since he was friends with Jordan and Ken, he got in good with a lot of King and Phantom's fans. I was even in pictures with some of the other racers there.

While I was posing with Headhunter, I could hear my master talking to a young girl. She had black hair that was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore a ball cap and dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt with some sort of hot rod car on it. I remembered seeing her a few times at the races, but I never really knew who she was.

Maybe Headhunter knew.

"Headhunter, who is that woman who's talking to my master?" I questioned.

"That guy is your master?" Headhunter asked, and I responded in a positive. "Ah, well, that is my master. Her name is Kim Young Hee."

Headhunter's master was…a woman?

"Your master is a woman?" I brought the question to light. I had assumed very wrongly about Headhunter. I thought for sure that Headhunter's master was a man or a teen boy like Blake was.

"Kim Young Hee wants to be a famous female racer. She even thought about going pro. So far, she's been given a lot of crap by other racers, but she's still hanging in there. I'm proud to have a mistress like her," the GTX looked affectionately over to the girl with a smile.

"I never thought you'd belong to a woman, especially with a name like Headhunter-" I cut my outwardly wandering thoughts off.

"Well, you're right about that, but she doesn't really want anyone to know that she's a woman outside of the racers here. Not when she's behind the wheel, anyway. We've been a team for five years and it's been a real blast. Kim has gotten a lot of respect by the racers here," the limelight green car informed me of its mistress' standings.

"Five years? That's a long time. How long have you been racing?"

"For four years. She spent a year fixing me up. Her father didn't like her too well for that. She's been kicked out of the house a lot for her decisions. Her father pretty much hates her and he thinks I'm a demon car."

That sounded familiar.

I knew exactly how Headhunter felt. Mrs. Seinsnig had treated me the same way before. As much as I missed Nash and Metro, I didn't miss the hatred that I put up with when I was there.

"My master's parents were the same way. I can relate to you on that," I agreed wholeheartedly. "That's why I've never raced, because I was confined to the life of a luxury car." It was embarrassing to admit, and even more so that I didn't feel much shame in saying it.

"Well, I feel a little bad about bad talking you when you first came here. I usually give everyone crap, so don't mind me. Everyone here just messes with each other for the most part. Unless something dark is going down, we're usually pretty up beat." When I thought about it, when I first came here, the street racers were intimidating and some of them were downright scary. The situations they've been through were instances that made them tough at heart. I did have to admit that their impressive knowledge made me feel very low. When I got to know them, I changed my mind about thinking that they were just a bunch of muscle-headed jerks. In reality, they were just a bunch of rugged, kind-hearted vehicles.

"It seems like your master has become pretty involved in the racing scene now. It's nice to see him around more often," Headhunter cracked a smile. "It also seems like he really likes my mistress, too."

What was it getting at? That Kim and my master were in love? Surely Headhunter was just teasing me. I didn't need to think about any more change in my life right now. Right now, I just felt like my gas pedal was stuck to the floor. I didn't have time to go at my own pace, and take in the world around me.

Such drastic changes that came all too quickly, I barely had time for it to sink in past my exterior.

"I wouldn't assume anything too soon," I chose my words cautiously. "My master and your mistress just look like they're good friends. They share a common interest." Come on, optimism! Work with me here.

"Who can say for sure? You never know," Headhunter told me slyly. "By the way, I overheard your master talking to another driver earlier. He's really interested in making you into a street racer."

"Yes, I know. He talks to the other racers about their techniques and different qualifications. He also talks about auto parts and my master is very set on racing."

"King told me that you might be joining us on the racing scene. Are you nervous?" The purple Trans Am questioned me. It was parked a car's distance away in the field.

Was I nervous? It was more like a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"A little, but I'm anxious to get to race." Even if I was nervous about being dangerous to society, I longed to use my speedometer to its fullest potential.

"That's the spirit! Maybe we'll have a nice race together some day," Headhunter beamed as King pulled around the corner and parked beside of Phantom.

"Hey, hey! I challenged you first." Of course King would turn up at a time like that. It just wanted to claim its glory. I can't complain.

Jordan hopped out of King and shut the door. He made his way to Kim and Blake. He and Kim shared a hug and the group began to discuss their plans for the next race that they were going to hold.

Headhunter asked King of it was competing in today's race. The Barracuda told its racing companion that it was actually sitting out today and playing spectator. The only cars that were racing were a car called Old Glory and another car called Altezza. Something about settling and dispute between their two drivers that had been ongoing for quite a while.

"Have you ever had to settle a dispute this way?" I questioned. I had heard of racers settling disputes before like this, but this was the first time I'd seen a race between two cars that had to do with settling a dispute.

"Usually, people just want to see if they can beat me. You know, test their skills. The only disputes I was involved in was getting Phantom back and defending other racer's honor." When I heard things like that, it made me idolize King even more.

"When you start to street race, I hope that your master challenges mine for a practice run. Since we live together, it should be fun," the red car was happy about all of the possibilities that resulted from my masters resparked interest.

"Who knows? Maybe Expresso will be the next King," Headhunter joked and King just laughed. I don't blame them for taking that seriously. I could never live up to their standards.

After the races, King and I drove back to the apartment and shared our small garage as our masters talked outside. Blake walked around to the front of me and leaned on my nosecone, between my retractable headlights.

"So, what do you think? Can you do it?" He asked Jordan.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I could. If that's what you want," the long-haired teen replied. "I hope that your parents don't kill you for it."

What were they talking about?

"It doesn't matter. They can't do anything about it. I'm on my own now. It's about time they stopped restraining me," Blake said nonchalantly.

"Can't your father take your car away?" Jordan raised King's hood and began working on its engine.

"His name is on the title because he made me put it there in order to get the car. I can't transfer it until I graduate. That was the condition." So, Blake's father partially owned me? That meant that he could take me away from Blake.

How disheartening.

If Blake planned on making me a street racing car, then his father would definitely sell me off. I didn't even want to think about what his mother would do…to both him and me.

However, Blake didn't let that stop him. A couple of months later, my fancy hubcaps came off, and my wheels were replaced. Jordan and Blake worked on making me live up to par to my Special Handling car tag.

It felt very strange to undergo a transformation, even if it wasn't that drastic. It was out of the normal for me, and after five years of being a luxury car, I was finally going to accomplish my original purpose.

King watched as the two worked on my. It was all they did with their extra time- after assignments, after class and on the weekends after the races. The two of them had grown closer during that period of time. I guess it was because they spent so much time together. I suppose it was also true with King and I now that I thought about it.

I still missed Metro and Nash. Even now, I wondered how they were, and if they were doing alright. I hoped that they were both happy, and a part of me couldn't wait to see them again.

Then again, part of me really dreaded it too. If I saw Nash and Metro that meant that I would also see Blake's parents. They would, in turn, see me.

The words that Mrs. Seinsnig said to me still haunt me to this very day.

'The only good muscle car is a smashed one.'

That sentence made me feel ill.

"Is something bothering you?" King asked when it noticed the worried look on my front end.

"I was just thinking of something that I heard a long time ago," I replied as Jordan and Blake went inside to fetch a tool.

"You're not nervous, are you? No second thoughts, right?" King seemed genuinely concerned. "I know that I've pushed the issue of being a street racer, even though I knew about Gary and Number Seven. I don't want you to think that it's a bad idea, or feel bad about the changes. I know that it's not good for everyone, and in truth, it is very dangerous even for me. I've lost a lot of good friends in this sport."

King…

"Why are you saying this?"

"Well, I probably shouldn't go talking about death on the raceway when you're undergoing a conversion to be a street racer," King perked up. "What was I thinking? I must be missing a few head gaskets today."

I stared at the Barracuda for a while. It didn't seem quite right today. Something was off about its attitude. King was having another one of its disturbed attitude days. It would act like that every now and then, as if something bothered it for no reason. It had always refused to talk to me about the issues, or it would insist that nothing was wrong with it. It was this weird habit that I noticed that sort of bugged me to no end.

I finally decided to point that fact out to it. "You've been pretty quiet today."

More like all day.

King hadn't spoken to me until that very moment. I could tell that the old car looked a little nervous and unsure of what to say. King opened its mouth, but nothing came out. It repeated this action a couple more times before our masters came back into the room and saved it from giving me a response.

From that point on, I had always wondered what bothered the Barracuda so much, but I didn't ask again.

Time had passed and in little less than two months, I was ready to begin street racing. Blake and Jordan seemed impressed with their work as they stepped back to examine their finished product.

"Hey! Lookin' good!" Jordan smiled broadly as he gave a thumbs up. "All of that know-how on cars helps you out a lot in the long run. This car looks great!"

"Yeah…You know, it looks better than I thought it would," Blake agreed with a smile. "I mean, it still looks like it did before, there are just more things under the hood."

"To be honest, it didn't need much. That thing is a natural born racer. I bet it could even run the professional tracks," Jordan bragged on me, and I was flattered. "I did a lot of modifying to old King, but it wasn't originally a race car. The guy I bought it from didn't really want it to be a sports car, just something to show off. So King's racing gear wasn't used to its fullest potential. That and the guy wore out the breaks. I had to completely replace them."

"King is a 1974 model. That's this year." My master couldn't believe his ears. How could a car acquire that much wear in not even a year? "How do you wear out breaks like that?"

"King came out in early seventy-four. The guy I bought him from had him for about four months. The dude had his petal to the metal…literally. I don't really think he even cared much about his cars," Jordan shrugged. "I'm glad that I got King out of that place. He's been my lucky ace."

"That's too bad. It makes me sad to see a good car in the wrong hands," Blake agreed.

I couldn't believe it! King had been treated badly by its previous master, and driven hard, nearly into the ground. No wonder it didn't think too badly of its own misfortunes in races. It was fearless because it expected death, yet it feared being crushed.

In the end, King saw its end coming around every corner and waited for its fate to bring it to the junkyard, even though it was afraid to be put there without accomplishing its goal. The fact that it was a new model made it feel like its life had been too short to be considered junk just yet.

King was even more amazing to me now.

It was deeper than I could ever imagine, and it held a deep sense of empathy for other cars because it had once traveled the road of abuse and neglect.

Even if what it did was illegal, it held fast to its job and was pleased to serve a master who cared about it, because it had never had that before. It was thankful for what it had and now felt indebted to a master who saved it from a cruel fate that would have come too soon.

I never knew…King…

When I first met you, I thought you were just a wild-spirited machine who held no regard for itself. I thought you were a sports car with the heart of a monster truck. That you thought you were invincible and naive.

That's only the you that you wanted everyone to see.

The hidden picture behind you, the things you didn't say, were the things that had said so much to me. Your morals and values were impressive for the picture you falsely painted to the muscle cars at The Strip. You're kind, empathetic, and even…kind of sad…

Unlike me, you've seen the dark side of life. Nash was right about everything. It was being jaded. King and Nash were actually very similar- both were kind, strong and had been to the brink and back. They were saved by their masters to serve out their purpose. They were a lot alike. No wonder I looked up to both of them.

Well, I hope that I make King proud of me.

"I don't think there are bad cars, just bad people," I heard Jordan tell my master with a fair amount of confidence. "The car isn't bad on its own. People make it bad by not taking care of it and fixing it when they know it has a problem."

I couldn't agree more. I really liked Jordan, and I think more so than I liked Ken. Then again, Ken was kind of quiet and didn't say much. He and Phantom both kind of kept to themselves. In my opinion, Phantom seemed very reserved and maybe a little traumatized. I don't know why, but I just got this feeling that Phantom has seen more than it cares to talk about.

I had asked it about it's time that was spent when it was stolen and it flat out refused to talk about it. When I persisted, the only thing that it told me was that it wasn't a subject that it wanted to touch on, and that secrets were meant to be found out with time.

When I thought about it, King hadn't spoken of that event since it was touched on that day that I went to their Cannonball Run. Maybe King and Phantom agreed not to talk about it in public. I wouldn't ask them. It was hard enough to get King to talk about certain subjects when we were talking about pros and cons of street racing.

King had always mentioned deadly crashes, but I wonder how many crashes that it had really seen. After living with someone, you tend to pick up on their true character and things they do and things they avoid talking about. Crashes, bad happenings, and races built on bad values were all things that King went silent on in conversations.

The only car that didn't act disturbed in some way was Headhunter, and I was beginning to wonder if all street racers acted that way.

Would I act that way when I became experienced?

For now, I would leave them to their thoughts.

Soon, the two humans had finished their modifications and shut my hood. I was now a full-pledged racing car, about to engage in illegal and dangerous activity.

Was I nervous?

Yes.

Did I think I would be beaten right off?

Yes, and not because of my master's ability, because he had the skills of a professional. It was my skill as a racer that was lacking.

I was taken for a few practice runs, but my speed was limited then as well, and I couldn't judge my speed against myself. I would soon have my opportunity. I had two days before the weekend came and my first race was set into motion. Of all of the cars I had to race, this one put the most pressure on me.

Why did my initiation have to be racing on the highway against King?

…To Be Continued