Speed Racer Fan Fiction ❯ The Streets of Heaven ❯ Ships That Don't Come In ( Chapter 4 )

"I could tell he'd had a tough life . . . By the way he sat and stared . . . And me, I'd come to push and shove So I pulled up a chair."

Sparky made his way to the bar, pushing and shoving through the mass of gyrating bodies. He paid no attention to the sea of bodies, his mind on his recent fight with Janine.

They had been doing that a lot, fighting, mostly over stupid little things, but the fight they'd had tonight . . . extreme. She wanted to get into racing and had become an excellent driver and wanted him as her mechanic. He had declined.

"What's the matter with you?" she had cried out. "Don't you want to get back into racing, too?"

"No," he had replied. "I don't. I like where I'm at just fine."

The shouting match proceeded from there until he left, stating he needed some air.

As he approached the bar, he noticed an old-timer sitting by himself and Sparky found himself feeling sorry for him.

'Poor guy. Surrounded by a sea of people who don't even care.'

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

"Not at all," the old man said, smiling a little.

"We talked of roads untraveled . . . We talked of love untrue . . . Of strings that come unraveled . . . We were kings and kindred fools . . . And just when I'd hit bottom . . .That old man raised his glass . . . And said at least we had our chances . . . There's those who never have."

"How do you mean?" Sparky asked quietly. The old man merely shrugged.

"There's some who live when they should have died. And then there's some who have died and should have lived. Ever think that it was unfair when a little kid dies and old person doesn't?"

"Yeah," Sparky slowly nodded, the old man's words bringing back into sharp reality the death of someone he had once known and who had had a lot to give.

"So here's to all the soldiers . . . Who have ever died in vain . . . The insane locked up in themselves . . . The homeless down on Main . . . To those who stand on empty shores . . . And spit against the wind . . . And those who wait forever . . . For ships that don't come in."

"It's only life's illusions that bring us to this bar to pick up these old crutches and compare each other's scars," he said. " 'Cuz the things we're calling heartache . . . hell, they're hardly worth our time. We bitch about a dollar when there's those without a dime."

Sparky nodded as he listened, his grief coming in fresh. He hadn't thought about Speed ever since Pops had announced the retirement of the Mach 5 and he hadn't seen the car in a long time, either. He still worked for Pops, of course, but not like he had used to.

'Maybe that's the reason why I don't want to be Janine's mechanic,' he mused. 'Because it'll be like betraying Speed . . ."

As the old man ordered one last round, he said, "I guess we can't complain. God did make life a gamble. We're still in the game." He gave a weak smile but Sparky thought he saw something more, something he couldn't identify, in the old man's watery blue eyes.

"Speed?" he whispered. The old man just winked and it was gone.

"You gotta do what's right for you, young man," he said, gulping down his last swallow. "Can't keep yourself from doing what it is that you really truly love."

"You know that's not what I would want for you. You still have a lot to give, Sparky. Give it. That's all I ask."

"So here's to all the soldiers . . . Who have ever died in vain . . . The insane locked up in themselves . . . The homeless down on Main . . . To those who stand on empty shores . . . And spit against the wind . . . And those who wait forever . . . For ships that don't come in."

Sparky blinked and turned his head away, not sure if he had heard that right. When he turned around, the old man was gone. Sighing raggedly, Sparky looked back at his drink.

'Still in the game . . . Yeah . . . I'm still in the game but what do I do? I don't want to feel like I'm betraying my best friend by working for Janine . . . Yet Speed wouldn't want me to hold back . . . I gotta go talk to her . . .'

Paying for his drinks, Sparky stood up and walked out. From a quiet corner booth, a pair of blue eyes followed him.

"Go get them, Sparky. Show them what you're made of."

~Fin~