Sunny Too
Copyright© 2017 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 8
“Care if I ride along?”
“I suppose.” I think my life is changing again.
He went to the office door, stuck his head out, and said, “Carol, I’ll be out for a couple of hours. Take a long lunch. Ha! I knew that would make you smile.”
Carol turned off the lights and followed us out the door, locking it behind her. At the street, she went right and we went straight to the Mustang. He was impressed.
“I’ve always wanted to ride in one of these, Shelby?”
“Yup ... performance package... 5 point oh ... supercharger, chip, six speed, locking diff, dual four puck calipers, 51cm wheels. Safety package ... here. Let me show you the belts ... got it? Good. Slap and turn the button to get out of ‘em. Grab bars here, here and here. Don’t worry, you can’t break ‘em. The seats are welded to the cage, if the whole body comes off, you’ll still be in the seat. You might be hurt but you’ll be alive. She’ll do 328 kilometers an hour and stop in 28 meters from 168kph.”
Gulp.
“I won’t be going anywhere near that fast today. I didn’t check the list before I brought the ladies out.”
“The list?”
“Ever watch the pilot of a private plane... ?”
“I fly,” he said, “Check list ... I got it.”
“I have a list of things that Shelby has reported as breaking or suffers from abnormal wear, I have had most everything Shelby reports replaced at the factory ... there are some that have a very low incidence of breakage.”
“Too bad that’s not a law ... there’d be fewer accidents.”
“Yup ... some people don’t want their lives interfered with.”
“You know you’re going to cause a shitstorm is Abby tests as high as I think.”
“How high?”
“Right out of high school.”
“Her mom was really smart.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself,” he said. “How many inventions is it now?”
“I can’t say.”
There were a multitude of fancy car haulers in line ... most of them were festooned with sponsorship decals. We had to wait.
We pulled up to the gate ... Alan again.
“Dave,” he said, “Track’s closed.”
“I want in Abby’s garage.”
“Let me check,” Alan got on his phone, spoke to it and disconnected.
“Have at it.”
The Pits and garage area was a storm of noise ... engines altitude tuning and hammers and cursing ... thuds, metal screeches, groans and such. I was amazed that anyone could communicate.
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