Chapter 15

"What's he doing out there?" Ray Ryan asked after he finished his lunch.

"Simonizing the damn thing," one of his workmen said. "I think he's crazy."

"Can't hurt," said Ryan. "He's finished every race since that first one and even made us some money last week."

"Joe ain't too happy about it, you know?"

"Piss on Joe; Bud's smarter and don't seem afraid of nothing." Ray Ryan ambled out into the back where some rather forlorn wrecks lay beside the fence along with the shop's stock car.

"Might use some new tires this week," Bud said as he kept right on waxing. "How about fifteens on the front and wide sixteens on the back? I noticed some of the other guys do that."

Ryan nodded. "Sound like a good idea. There's a bunch of old wheels back there. Your wife don't mind you being away every Saturday night?'

"Shit," Bud said, "what she don't know won't hurt me. She always has things to do, and with her big belly sticking out there, well, you know."

"Who was that floozy you brought to the track last week?" Ryan asked. "I wouldn't mind having a bit of that."

"Jailbait, boss," Bud said, "but she's got a couple of sisters that's old enough to know better, but don't."

"Damn thing never looked better," Ray Ryan said, kicking at his gleaming car's front tire. "Come on now, we've got that station wagon to finish up today. Lot'a maskin' to do."

That Saturday night, Bud won his first fifty-lap stock car race, a cheap trophy with a chrome racing car on top and a thousand dollars for Ryan's Bodyshop. He hauled Darlene Winsor along with the crew to drink their success at a roadhouse on Route 1 and then rented one of the cottages out back and enjoyed the 16-year-old girl until early the next morning.

When he got home after dropping off Darlene at her dark house in Woodmont, the place was empty and there was a note saying that Jimmy was with his in-laws and Jeanne was at Garfield Hospital having her baby.

Bud changed his clothes quickly and drove his '40 Plymouth down into D.C. and hurried up to Jeanne's double room where another woman was sleeping on the bed nearer the door.

Jeanne looked like she had been in a fight and had lost. There were dark circles under her eyes and a flexible tube in her nose. A drip IV hung behind her bed and led to her right forearm. Bud looked down at her and blinked.

"Jeanne, dear," he said, "you all right?"

His wife opened her eyes and tried to smile. "It's another boy," she said. "They had to cut him out. Something was wrong."

Bud nodded. "He OK?"

"Far as I know. Ask the nurse. You probably can see him."

"Sorry I wasn't home," Bud said.

"Surprised me," Jeanne said and sighed. "My water just broke; bang. Like that. The neighbor, you know, Jerry what's-his-name, he drove me down and his wife took care of the baby until my folks got there. He was scared we weren't going to make it."