Chapter 17

“Adult BMX wheels are pretty darn strong,” Genevieve said in response to the complaint that her wheels were bigger than ‘their’ wheels ... and we all know who ‘they’ are.

“And they’re fatter.” They said.

“But not exceeding the maximum width.” She said

“Well, they look bigger,” They said.

“That’s because I’m small,” she said. “I’m small because I’m not 18 ... and come to think it ... why are you complaining ... I can’t race ... you won’t let me.” She snarled.

“We’re old and are jealous of your youth,” Doc Arbuthnot confessed. He blushed... “Did I just say that?”

The glare from his peers was so bitter one could taste it.

“I did, didn’t I.” Not a question ... rather a statement of fact ... we were, every one of us, jealous. She’s smart, fixing to become a real beauty, sexy as only a budding adolescent can be ... and oh so innocent. Well ... shit fuzzy. And thinking about it he had to smile ... which pissed his cohorts off no end.

“What in the holy hell are you smiling about, Doc,” asked the retired die sinker.

“Shit fuzzy,” he said.

“What?”

“Think about it,” Doc said.

It took awhile but pretty soon all of them were smiling ... and then laughing.

“Shit fuzzy ... that would tickle coming out.”

Gen didn’t get it.

Daddy saw that lost look and told her he’d explain when they got home.

“Uh ... adult humor ... ok.”

They walked back to what Gen said was HER shop. There ... in Italian Red was a perfectly proportioned 1923 Alfa Romeo Gran Prix racecar.

“Ooo, Gen, that’s pretty.” Daddy said.

“Took me three weeks ... I didn’t think I’d ever get the titanium to wheel.” She beamed.

“The shell is titanium?”

“No ... all of it ... without the engine or me in it ... it weighs about 65 pounds.”

“65?”

“Yup ... it’s very fast.”

“I’ll bet.”

She proceeded to show him features ... he oooed and ahhhed appropriately. ‘She’ll never fit it when she’s 18,’ he thought.

“Can’t race it?”

“Officially ... no ... but that doesn’t mean I can’t kick their asses in practice ... oops.”

“They practice?”

“Hennepin Point. They convoy up and race on the trails.”

“Why don’t I know about it?”

“You haven’t built a car.”