The night air was definitely getting cooler… Kelly walked close to me but did not say anything as I reached and opened Frankie’s door. The glow from the dome light flooded out onto the tarmac below.
“Steve… I’m not sure about this. Don’t you think Jim should have been here by now?”
I knew she was serious about her concerns – I could hear it clearly in her whispered voice. As she pulled in close to me I hugged her, my face tight against her head, her hair against my cheek…
“I don’t know Kel… I thought Jim would have been here by now too, especially since Bill and Cy pretty much blabbed what I thought he would want to know…”
I WAS confused by that fact… I was sure Jim had what he needed based on what they said but yet he wasn’t here yet. I had to reassure her a little… maybe, just maybe reassure myself some too.
“I guess he’s just waiting for the right moment, Kel… he’ll be here when it’s right.”
She looked up at me with those enormous eyes of hers with the kind of look that makes me always fall in love with her every time she looks at me that way… the tiniest of smiles crept across her face.
“Ok… I know you’re right, Steve. So, go ahead and kick some MOPAR butt, ok?”
She gave me a squeeze and backed away from the door as I slid in on the cool seat. As I was buckling up, she leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips warm and inviting. “See you a few minutes, babe. Win this one, ok?”
Her smile said it all and was all the motivation I needed. I just nodded and smiled and pulled the GSX’s heavy door shut. It closed with a solid feel and ‘Chunk’… suddenly, all was quiet once more.
I had the key in my hand and slid it into the slot, rotating it forward to the first detent. The gauges came alive; power surging forward from the big battery sitting in the dark of the trunk behind me… the nearly whispered ‘whirrrrrrr’ of the interior fan could be heard…
I tapped the accelerator to the floor only once. I could hear/feel the linkage working from beneath the dash, through the firewall, out above the intake, operating the huge butterflies on the two highly tweaked Holley 600cfm carbs.
Lights and shadows danced off the curves on the sleek fiberglass hood that hid deep within the soul of all things mechanical. I hesitated watching the gauges stay in their place, listening as two more cars raced on down the strip over behind the crowd.
Kelly just stood there… when ever we start this car it always has the same effect on both of us. It’s impossible to describe other than what people may feel when they see a bad car crash – they really do not want to look but they can not look away.
Frankie does that to you. You KNOW you should look away, not make eye contact… you know that if this car awakens, no good thing will come of it for someone… you KNOW that it’s cold, steely mechanical soul only wants one thing.
To kill.
A cold bead of sweat trickled off my brow and started a slow slide down the side of my face… Kel’s eyes met mine again and she nodded her head….
I rotated the key forward, past “Run”….
To “Start”.
“Buh-WHUMPH!...”
He was alive once more. At first, the fast idle was controlling the temp but one quick blip of the accelerator and the roar settled back into what sounded like artillery fire being randomly lit off… hurling death and destruction skyward and not caring where it landed.
Immediately, scores of people who were yards away turned towards Frankie to see what the god-awful sound was. They too were transfixed… they could not have been more stunned nor fearful if a T-Rex had lunged out of the woods behind me…. Yet, they could not move.
I could not hear anything other than a maddening cacophony of enormous pistons crushing huge gulps of air/fuel mixture to be exploded in a mechanical dance of timing with the enormous cam, valves and exhaust.
The car shook violently with each pulse of the 455. I could feel anger in each throbbing explosion – the cool vinyl seat almost seemed alive beneath me. My right hand was on the shifter and it danced and pulsed in my hand.
This car did not ask for anything other than to be loosed. It snarled and spat and cursed with each piston stroke… it lurched and shook; almost as if it was trying to shake itself apart but hell-bent on not doing so. It was solid and mighty and terrifyingly beautiful, all at the same time.
The crowd was still staring. I noticed that Bill and a few others had come to the front to see what the violence was… Kelly motioned for me to open the door. When I did, she had to yell for me to be able to hear her…
“I just saw the Road Runner go around to the start line… are you ready?”
I nodded. I had noticed the side lights of a car moving off to my left, figuring it must be Cy in the MOPAR.
“I’m ready. The car is ready – we’re set… See you in a few….” I swung the heavy door back shut and steadied for just a moment, still in awe of the torque monster that lay between the motor mounts in front of me, separated from me by the thinnest of firewalls…
I revved the motor a couple of times, allowing Frankie to bellow fiercely into the cold night. Children and women cowered… men stood in fear and shook their heads… some whispering to the other nervously….
Frankie settled back into what could barely be called an “idle” because it was obvious to anyone who was within earshot that this car did NOT like to idle. I reached down to the shifter, my foot hard on the brake pedal. I pulled the release upward and worked the stiff handle rearward, passing quickly through “R” then “N” and back into “D”.
Instantly, the car lurched forward tugging and straining against the brakes with each pulse of the ‘idle’, desperately trying to lunge and kill with malicious delight. The huge Dana sat ready to transfer power once the brakes were released and once the converter was loaded up…
I sidestepped the brake pedal and the car jumped forward. It is always like trying to arm wrestle a gorilla when I try to steer this car at idle… it only likes to go straight and it takes a lot of persuasion and a little more engine speed to make the steering somewhat lighter…
As we rolled out, I reached down to the left side of the instrument panel and pulled the round light switch out to the first detent to turn on the parking lights… the instruments immediately glowed with a sinister backlight and the ground was flooded amber before me…
Pulling on around to the starting line, I finally could hear the Road Runner. I had to admit that I did not really give much serious thought to the car. I don’t know why… and that could be an incredibly stupid thing to do – not know your opponent, especially in a street race.
But oddly I was at ease. I knew that really all I had to do was ride. If I gave Frankie a good start, I did not think about losing. Stupid? Yes.
Unless you were sitting where I was.
In seconds I was at the ‘burnout area’. I heated the massive rear tires and pulled on up to the right side of the line, the R/R to my left. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t driving the only monster tonight. The HEMI hissed and snarled with a menacing growl, oblivious to the GSX’s thunder. While it was hard to hear the MOPAR since I was sitting in an uninsulated factory race car, I COULD still hear it.
And it sounded strong.
Someone stepped in front of us between the cars and held a white Cowboy hat in his hand. He pointed at me and I nodded. He pointed at Cy and I’m guessing he nodded too…
Immediately, I began to load the converter against the transbrake… I could hear the R/R had upped the revs but didn’t really listen that closely. I knew in seconds I would have to hang on for my life…
I watched the starter slowly lift the Stetson skyward…
The tach was pegged north of 3000 rpm… the transbrake held as Frankie was straining to be loosed….
I did not watch the hat. I watched the fingers on the hand holding the hat.
And when I saw them twitch, letting go of the hat – a nanosecond before the hat started to flutter-fall back to earth – I released the T-brake.
BAM!!!!
I was slammed VIOLENTLY against the seat as the immense torque of the 455 tried its best to rip the motor out of the mounts – but the mounts held fast… The power transferred back through the converter and the Turbo 400, trying its best to rip the universals out of the driveline – but they held fast…
As the driveshaft tried to twist itself into – and held – the power went on back into the big Dana 60, trying to shear the teeth off the gears and failing that, trying to strip the splines off the enormous axles – which also held.
Hundreds of lb/ft of torque violently twisted the shafts… not being able to break them or shear the lug nuts from the wheels and failing to spin the tires that were holding fast to the surface of the track, the several hundred lb/ft of torque could only do one thing…
Fling the nose of the GSX skyward in anger.
In the fraction of a second since I had loosed the hellhounds beneath the hood with the flick of one small switch, the nose of the Buick lurched upward, pulling both wheels solidly off the pavement while at the same time, crushing my spine and helmet back into the seat, making me look up into the night sky over the black hood...
NOW, the steering was light…
Later, people told me that Frankie had reared his ugly and destructive head for nearly 100 feet before the nose settled back to earth. It did not matter…
By the time the front wheels came back down, the Road Runner was half a car back. And losing ground with each passing second.
Later, people at the finish line said there were at least two car lengths between the GSX’s rear fender and the nose of Cy’s MOPAR…
I couldn’t really tell… I was just glad to be able to step off the accelerator. Even I was scared of Frankie’s power after that run.
I don’t know if it was the cool air or what but this was the strongest I had ever felt this car run. And oddly enough, I felt like it still had more in it. That was easily a very, very low 10 second run, most likely a niner.
As the GSX slowed with the help of the brakes and I made the turn to head back to the front, I wondered if Kelly saw the launch and what she though. I wondered if Jim and the department was finally there…
I wondered if Bill would give me any grief… but most of all, I felt good. I felt like I had just ridden the wildest of beasts, a hair’s breadth from death myself, allowed to ride along only because I was ‘tolerated’… and I felt victorious.
It would be interesting to see what happened next. All I had to do now was take on the ‘Cuda and win and maybe then it would be over… maybe by then, Jim would have all he needed and Kel and B and Stacy and I could go back to living our lives in some semblance of normalcy…
I pulled up and the crowd ran to the car, most of them cheering and yelling… many pointing… some holding back and shaking their heads as if in disbelief… Frankie slowed and stopped, I pushed the shifter back into park and let him idle a moment before shutting him down…
God… it was so quiet! (It seemed that way, anyhow…)
I unbuckled as Kelly ran up. I pulled the door release and slid out off the vinyl seat and stood up, many people slapping my back and a cacophony of questions were hurtled towards me…
“What IS that car?” “How much power does it make?” “How big IS that motor?”
I just grinned and hugged Kelly, seeing B and Stacy beside us. I could see Bill over talking to Cy as he was exiting the Plymouth. Bill did NOT look happy but he DID have the title in his hand…
Kelly whispered in my ear…. “No sign of Jim yet….”
I looked around and had to agree. Still – no sign of him. I had to admit I was definitely getting more concerned. But then again, maybe he was waiting to make sure I actually DID win the last race? I just did not know…
Bill and his gang walked over at this point… he handed the signed title of the MOPAR over to me and I just gave it to Kelly.
“Nice run, Steve. But that Road Runner isn’t half the car of that ‘Cuda. You still wanna run the last one?”
I just stared into his cold eyes, looking to see if he was wavering just a little. Nothing but cold determination looked back.
“Sure Bill. But I think the bigger question is, ‘Are YOU ready?’”
“Let’s go Steve. I think its time you and I finally had a rematch… but THIS time, it won’t be me who ends up in flames… if you know what I mean! Hahahaha!!!”
He headed over to where the ‘Cuda was parked and opened the door. I kissed Kelly again and whispered “See you in a minute” in her ear, and pulled the door back open on the GSX.
As I swung the door open, I noticed a couple of black long-wheelbase vans pulling up on the far side of the crowd. They did not have any markings at all, nor could you see in the heavily tinted windows. No front plates were visible but there were several antennae bristling from the roofs of both vehicles. No doors opened, no one got out, and the drivers shut them off, leaving the parking lights on…
I thought it was odd and I hoped that maybe they were Jim’s group but I knew his department did not have vehicles like these. My best guess was that they were possibly some connections with Bill but at the moment, I did not have a chance to think about it.
It was time to race…
Looking back, I should have known who was driving those vans. I HAD seen them before – but in a completely different setting… If I had remembered that one single thought, I would have known for sure that they definitely were NOT with Jim….
To be continued…
“Steve… I’m not sure about this. Don’t you think Jim should have been here by now?”
I knew she was serious about her concerns – I could hear it clearly in her whispered voice. As she pulled in close to me I hugged her, my face tight against her head, her hair against my cheek…
“I don’t know Kel… I thought Jim would have been here by now too, especially since Bill and Cy pretty much blabbed what I thought he would want to know…”
I WAS confused by that fact… I was sure Jim had what he needed based on what they said but yet he wasn’t here yet. I had to reassure her a little… maybe, just maybe reassure myself some too.
“I guess he’s just waiting for the right moment, Kel… he’ll be here when it’s right.”
She looked up at me with those enormous eyes of hers with the kind of look that makes me always fall in love with her every time she looks at me that way… the tiniest of smiles crept across her face.
“Ok… I know you’re right, Steve. So, go ahead and kick some MOPAR butt, ok?”
She gave me a squeeze and backed away from the door as I slid in on the cool seat. As I was buckling up, she leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips warm and inviting. “See you a few minutes, babe. Win this one, ok?”
Her smile said it all and was all the motivation I needed. I just nodded and smiled and pulled the GSX’s heavy door shut. It closed with a solid feel and ‘Chunk’… suddenly, all was quiet once more.
I had the key in my hand and slid it into the slot, rotating it forward to the first detent. The gauges came alive; power surging forward from the big battery sitting in the dark of the trunk behind me… the nearly whispered ‘whirrrrrrr’ of the interior fan could be heard…
I tapped the accelerator to the floor only once. I could hear/feel the linkage working from beneath the dash, through the firewall, out above the intake, operating the huge butterflies on the two highly tweaked Holley 600cfm carbs.
Lights and shadows danced off the curves on the sleek fiberglass hood that hid deep within the soul of all things mechanical. I hesitated watching the gauges stay in their place, listening as two more cars raced on down the strip over behind the crowd.
Kelly just stood there… when ever we start this car it always has the same effect on both of us. It’s impossible to describe other than what people may feel when they see a bad car crash – they really do not want to look but they can not look away.
Frankie does that to you. You KNOW you should look away, not make eye contact… you know that if this car awakens, no good thing will come of it for someone… you KNOW that it’s cold, steely mechanical soul only wants one thing.
To kill.
A cold bead of sweat trickled off my brow and started a slow slide down the side of my face… Kel’s eyes met mine again and she nodded her head….
I rotated the key forward, past “Run”….
To “Start”.
“Buh-WHUMPH!...”
He was alive once more. At first, the fast idle was controlling the temp but one quick blip of the accelerator and the roar settled back into what sounded like artillery fire being randomly lit off… hurling death and destruction skyward and not caring where it landed.
Immediately, scores of people who were yards away turned towards Frankie to see what the god-awful sound was. They too were transfixed… they could not have been more stunned nor fearful if a T-Rex had lunged out of the woods behind me…. Yet, they could not move.
I could not hear anything other than a maddening cacophony of enormous pistons crushing huge gulps of air/fuel mixture to be exploded in a mechanical dance of timing with the enormous cam, valves and exhaust.
The car shook violently with each pulse of the 455. I could feel anger in each throbbing explosion – the cool vinyl seat almost seemed alive beneath me. My right hand was on the shifter and it danced and pulsed in my hand.
This car did not ask for anything other than to be loosed. It snarled and spat and cursed with each piston stroke… it lurched and shook; almost as if it was trying to shake itself apart but hell-bent on not doing so. It was solid and mighty and terrifyingly beautiful, all at the same time.
The crowd was still staring. I noticed that Bill and a few others had come to the front to see what the violence was… Kelly motioned for me to open the door. When I did, she had to yell for me to be able to hear her…
“I just saw the Road Runner go around to the start line… are you ready?”
I nodded. I had noticed the side lights of a car moving off to my left, figuring it must be Cy in the MOPAR.
“I’m ready. The car is ready – we’re set… See you in a few….” I swung the heavy door back shut and steadied for just a moment, still in awe of the torque monster that lay between the motor mounts in front of me, separated from me by the thinnest of firewalls…
I revved the motor a couple of times, allowing Frankie to bellow fiercely into the cold night. Children and women cowered… men stood in fear and shook their heads… some whispering to the other nervously….
Frankie settled back into what could barely be called an “idle” because it was obvious to anyone who was within earshot that this car did NOT like to idle. I reached down to the shifter, my foot hard on the brake pedal. I pulled the release upward and worked the stiff handle rearward, passing quickly through “R” then “N” and back into “D”.
Instantly, the car lurched forward tugging and straining against the brakes with each pulse of the ‘idle’, desperately trying to lunge and kill with malicious delight. The huge Dana sat ready to transfer power once the brakes were released and once the converter was loaded up…
I sidestepped the brake pedal and the car jumped forward. It is always like trying to arm wrestle a gorilla when I try to steer this car at idle… it only likes to go straight and it takes a lot of persuasion and a little more engine speed to make the steering somewhat lighter…
As we rolled out, I reached down to the left side of the instrument panel and pulled the round light switch out to the first detent to turn on the parking lights… the instruments immediately glowed with a sinister backlight and the ground was flooded amber before me…
Pulling on around to the starting line, I finally could hear the Road Runner. I had to admit that I did not really give much serious thought to the car. I don’t know why… and that could be an incredibly stupid thing to do – not know your opponent, especially in a street race.
But oddly I was at ease. I knew that really all I had to do was ride. If I gave Frankie a good start, I did not think about losing. Stupid? Yes.
Unless you were sitting where I was.
In seconds I was at the ‘burnout area’. I heated the massive rear tires and pulled on up to the right side of the line, the R/R to my left. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t driving the only monster tonight. The HEMI hissed and snarled with a menacing growl, oblivious to the GSX’s thunder. While it was hard to hear the MOPAR since I was sitting in an uninsulated factory race car, I COULD still hear it.
And it sounded strong.
Someone stepped in front of us between the cars and held a white Cowboy hat in his hand. He pointed at me and I nodded. He pointed at Cy and I’m guessing he nodded too…
Immediately, I began to load the converter against the transbrake… I could hear the R/R had upped the revs but didn’t really listen that closely. I knew in seconds I would have to hang on for my life…
I watched the starter slowly lift the Stetson skyward…
The tach was pegged north of 3000 rpm… the transbrake held as Frankie was straining to be loosed….
I did not watch the hat. I watched the fingers on the hand holding the hat.
And when I saw them twitch, letting go of the hat – a nanosecond before the hat started to flutter-fall back to earth – I released the T-brake.
BAM!!!!
I was slammed VIOLENTLY against the seat as the immense torque of the 455 tried its best to rip the motor out of the mounts – but the mounts held fast… The power transferred back through the converter and the Turbo 400, trying its best to rip the universals out of the driveline – but they held fast…
As the driveshaft tried to twist itself into – and held – the power went on back into the big Dana 60, trying to shear the teeth off the gears and failing that, trying to strip the splines off the enormous axles – which also held.
Hundreds of lb/ft of torque violently twisted the shafts… not being able to break them or shear the lug nuts from the wheels and failing to spin the tires that were holding fast to the surface of the track, the several hundred lb/ft of torque could only do one thing…
Fling the nose of the GSX skyward in anger.
In the fraction of a second since I had loosed the hellhounds beneath the hood with the flick of one small switch, the nose of the Buick lurched upward, pulling both wheels solidly off the pavement while at the same time, crushing my spine and helmet back into the seat, making me look up into the night sky over the black hood...
NOW, the steering was light…
Later, people told me that Frankie had reared his ugly and destructive head for nearly 100 feet before the nose settled back to earth. It did not matter…
By the time the front wheels came back down, the Road Runner was half a car back. And losing ground with each passing second.
Later, people at the finish line said there were at least two car lengths between the GSX’s rear fender and the nose of Cy’s MOPAR…
I couldn’t really tell… I was just glad to be able to step off the accelerator. Even I was scared of Frankie’s power after that run.
I don’t know if it was the cool air or what but this was the strongest I had ever felt this car run. And oddly enough, I felt like it still had more in it. That was easily a very, very low 10 second run, most likely a niner.
As the GSX slowed with the help of the brakes and I made the turn to head back to the front, I wondered if Kelly saw the launch and what she though. I wondered if Jim and the department was finally there…
I wondered if Bill would give me any grief… but most of all, I felt good. I felt like I had just ridden the wildest of beasts, a hair’s breadth from death myself, allowed to ride along only because I was ‘tolerated’… and I felt victorious.
It would be interesting to see what happened next. All I had to do now was take on the ‘Cuda and win and maybe then it would be over… maybe by then, Jim would have all he needed and Kel and B and Stacy and I could go back to living our lives in some semblance of normalcy…
I pulled up and the crowd ran to the car, most of them cheering and yelling… many pointing… some holding back and shaking their heads as if in disbelief… Frankie slowed and stopped, I pushed the shifter back into park and let him idle a moment before shutting him down…
God… it was so quiet! (It seemed that way, anyhow…)
I unbuckled as Kelly ran up. I pulled the door release and slid out off the vinyl seat and stood up, many people slapping my back and a cacophony of questions were hurtled towards me…
“What IS that car?” “How much power does it make?” “How big IS that motor?”
I just grinned and hugged Kelly, seeing B and Stacy beside us. I could see Bill over talking to Cy as he was exiting the Plymouth. Bill did NOT look happy but he DID have the title in his hand…
Kelly whispered in my ear…. “No sign of Jim yet….”
I looked around and had to agree. Still – no sign of him. I had to admit I was definitely getting more concerned. But then again, maybe he was waiting to make sure I actually DID win the last race? I just did not know…
Bill and his gang walked over at this point… he handed the signed title of the MOPAR over to me and I just gave it to Kelly.
“Nice run, Steve. But that Road Runner isn’t half the car of that ‘Cuda. You still wanna run the last one?”
I just stared into his cold eyes, looking to see if he was wavering just a little. Nothing but cold determination looked back.
“Sure Bill. But I think the bigger question is, ‘Are YOU ready?’”
“Let’s go Steve. I think its time you and I finally had a rematch… but THIS time, it won’t be me who ends up in flames… if you know what I mean! Hahahaha!!!”
He headed over to where the ‘Cuda was parked and opened the door. I kissed Kelly again and whispered “See you in a minute” in her ear, and pulled the door back open on the GSX.
As I swung the door open, I noticed a couple of black long-wheelbase vans pulling up on the far side of the crowd. They did not have any markings at all, nor could you see in the heavily tinted windows. No front plates were visible but there were several antennae bristling from the roofs of both vehicles. No doors opened, no one got out, and the drivers shut them off, leaving the parking lights on…
I thought it was odd and I hoped that maybe they were Jim’s group but I knew his department did not have vehicles like these. My best guess was that they were possibly some connections with Bill but at the moment, I did not have a chance to think about it.
It was time to race…
Looking back, I should have known who was driving those vans. I HAD seen them before – but in a completely different setting… If I had remembered that one single thought, I would have known for sure that they definitely were NOT with Jim….
To be continued…
