Chapter 15

Alice answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Alice, this is Jane. Will you have lunch with me?"

"Sure, it'll be fun. Can Barb come with me? It'll just be us girls."

"I need to speak to you alone. It's about Paul. Please, it's really important."

"Alright, let me call Barb."

"Thanks."

They met at the greasy spoon near the campus. "Sit next to me so we can whisper," Jane started.

Alice was surprised Jane wanted her that close. Something big was up.

"Paul took me fishing."

"I didn't know he fished."

"So you didn't know he was taking me?"

"No. Why?"

"We didn't do any fishing."

"That sounds more like Paul. So fishing is a euphemism for playing with your boobs?"

"No, it was a way for him to tell me that he had lived before. When I got mad I couldn't leave."

Alice froze. She didn't say anything.

"It's OK Alice, he told me you know. He said that was the secret the two of you had. Well he didn't say that was the secret, but if it's not the secret then I don't want to know the secret. He said he told you some sports scores so you'd believe him, and he told you about his girl friends."

"He also told me that queers, as you say, would have an easier time in the future." Jane continued.

"Is that all he told you?"

"Yes. What did he tell you?"

"He told me enough physics that I believe him. He has never lied to me although he has wanted to, so I believe him."

"Kind of cool, huh?"

"No. It's a drag."

"Why?"

"My Daddy is a smart man. He knows how smart my Mother is and how much it bothers her that society tells her she has to get pregnant and spend all her time cleaning the house. They raised me to be proud of how smart I was. They raised me to have aspirations higher than house cleaning. I always thought I'd fall in love with a man that was my equal, that I could be partners with. Instead, I fall in love with Paul. He is too damn smart. Much smarter than I am."

"Does your partner need to be as smart as you are?"

"That would be the best."

"Does he need to be as handsome as you are pretty?"

"No, it's not that important. Paul ain't great looking but that's not the problem."

"Does he need to be the same height as you?"

"No!"

"So he can be shorter?"

"I don't want a short boyfriend. I like tall men."

"So everything doesn't have to be equal?"

"Fuck you."

"You may want to rethink that," she said with a smile. "Jane, what is it that's really bothering you? Does your dad tell your mom what to do?"

"Yes."

"Is he smarter than she is?"

"Yes."

"Does it bother your mother?"

"Yes."

"Does it make her so unhappy that she regrets having married him?"

"No."

"Paul said they're happy. Are they?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you so worried?"

"Because I want more than Mom had. I want a career too. I want to be somebody on my own. I do not want to just be Mrs. Sheppard."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?"

"What?"

"Has Paul asked you to marry him? If he did without telling me I'll kill him."

"No."

"Then why don't you enjoy what you have and let tomorrow take care of itself? You're too young to be married. Paul may not want to marry you. You might have told him to fuck off one time too many. You may find the love of your life tomorrow. He may find the love of his life tomorrow. He treats you well doesn't he?"

"Yes, he is kind and thoughtful even if he's stupid sometimes."

"All boys are stupid sometimes and so are all girls. From the sounds I hear the sex is good, isn't it?"

Jane blushed. "No, it's great! Boys are terrible. Are all men that good?"

"I wouldn't know."

There was a pause. "Is this the kind of stuff you help him with?"

"If you mean do I listen to him and try to give him perspective, then yeah, this is what I do."

"Now I understand why you are his special friend."

"That's so sweet of you. Give me a hug."

Paul met Jane for breakfast Monday morning. "You disappeared yesterday. Where did you go?"

"I had a long talk with Alice."

Oh shit. Don't stick your foot in your mouth. "Oh?" That should be safe.

"What are you worried about? It was just girl talk."

Was that supposed to be reassuring?

May was crazy. Paul had far too much to do and far too little time to do it. He skipped Monaco altogether even though it was one of his favorite races. The memories of Ava couldn't ruin the beautiful principality by the bay. For Paul the Indy 500 took all of his time except the time he absolutely had to have for studying.

Two Americans, Phil Hill and Richie Ginther, would be driving for Ferrari at Indianapolis. They would qualify the week before the race then fly to Monaco to prepare for Saturday's race there. An overnight flight would get them to Indianapolis in time, hopefully, for the start. Other drivers would be available for carburetor day, the Thursday before the race. Unlike today's cars in which the driver can control the air/gas mixture, cars with carburetors can be set to a single mixture. If luck is with you, the mixture will stay that way for the whole race. A "lean" mixture is a higher air-to-gas ratio. It cuts the horsepower but gives better mileage. A "rich" mixture is just the opposite. With today's cars, it is just a turn of a knob in the cockpit. In the 60s it was an art form.

NART's plan was to have their two cars separated on the starting grid. The Indy 500 is a 200-lap race and there is a prize for the leader after the first lap, but it is not that big a prize. Yet drivers are aggressive if they are any good, and sometimes three cars will try to fit through a line only big enough for one or two cars. Multiple crashes are common on the first lap. One way to stay out of trouble is to be in the lead. The air is clean (little turbulence) and you don't have to worry about running into the car ahead of you. To be in the lead at the first turn, you have to be in the front row. In other words you have to be one of the top three qualifiers. Ferrari was trying to hide how much advantage they had, so they didn't want to be the fastest qualifiers. Ideal would be one starter on row 2 and one starter on row 8. All they had to do was guess the right times for qualifying laps.

They were using a six liter engine instead of the five liter engine used in F1. In the imperial system that is about 370 cubic inches. That is the volume that the pistons sweep out as they move in the cylinders. There would be more horsepower and more strain on the drive train, but once up to speed, the driver could stay in 5th gear, saving wear on the transmission. The drive train should hold together.

Ferrari was going to sand-bag the other cars. They would save their fastest laps for the race. The fastest qualifying lap last year was just over 146 miles per hour. The Ferraris should do that without a problem. They would stay separated for the first half of the race and then move up the field during the last half. Sneaky ground effects had been added. The wings just "happened" to block air from going under the car. The underside of back half of the car just "happened" to be higher than the front. The bottom of the car wasn't the graceful sculptures that you see in today's F1, but if a car flipped, the secret of ground effects should be overlooked. With a race setup and no one really paying attention, one of the Ferraris turned in a lap of 58.8 sec, 153 miles per hour. For qualifying, the cars are on the ragged edge. They are fast, but just a twitch away from running out of control and they use too much gas. For the race the cars are made more stable and the air/fuel mixture leaned down to keep from having to make an extra pit stop.

If a tiny bolt or a hose wasn't loose, if there wasn't a flaw in a piston or a tire or one of the thousands of parts of the car, if the driver didn't end up in the wall, if karma was good, Ferrari should win the race. Mr. Chinetti had been kind enough to put a University of Florida sticker on the car. Paul had a picture taken of him standing next to the car. He had a UF sweatshirt and UF ball cap on. Even that bastard Reitz should be happy. It ought to keep Alice and Barb safe. Suzi had her own plan.

Back and forth between Indianapolis and Gainesville was getting old. Paul no longer cared what grades he got this semester as long as he passed. He couldn't study on the planes. At night he heard cars screaming around the track even if he was in his own bed. Alice and Jane were both worried about him.

"He doesn't even look at my boobs anymore," Jane complained.

"He doesn't look at mine either."

"Does he usually?"

"Sure."

"Barb, does he usually look at your boobs?"

"Does the sun come up in the morning?"

"That bastard!"

"You're going to have to accept it. It's not like he has any control over it."

"He's still a bastard. He's too tired to mess around when he's here. What am I supposed to do?"

Alice smiled.

"Don't you dare say it!"

Friday night before the Memorial Day weekend, Paul borrowed a car and drove to the airport to get the Coopers. He had not met Bill before. Bill was the spitting image of Mr. Cooper except he was skinny. Paul kissed Jane and helped her and Mrs. Cooper with their luggage. They drove to the hotel where Paul had a two-bedroom suite and a single room. He expected to stay in the single and give the Coopers some privacy. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper wanted the single.

"You kids will stay up later than we will and we don't want you to wake us. Bill, you sleep on the couch and chaperon your sister."

"Yes ma' am. Where are we going tomorrow Paul?"

"Wherever you all want to go. All I have to do tomorrow is worry."

"Are we going out tonight?"

"You and Jane can, but I'm going to sleep." And he did, out like a light by 9 PM. Jane was pissed. Her brother had seen it all before.

Paul was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper when Jane got up. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Please."

Coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar. She's going to love Starbucks.

"Paul, why do you read the newspaper?" Jane asked.