The road beneath me

The light went green and I put my foot down. The car didn’t react instantly making my heart stop in panic before it squatted in the back and pushed me into the seat. My head tilted forward in concentration and for those few seconds the car and I were one being.

I could feel the bitumen beneath me, the rubber of the tyres, it all vibrated through my body and through the steering wheel. The sound of the engine was all I could hear, the old V8 rumbling filled my chest. The heat was stifling with the air-conditioner off and the windows up but it was only going to be for a few more seconds as the sweat fell from the tip of my nose and onto my jeans. The 1970’s hardtop always felt like it was going to rattle apart when I flew down the strip but she always came up good.

The heat rippled the surface of the blacktop at the end of the strip and I focused on that spot, keeping straight, ignoring the car beside me.

The strip rolled away beneath me and I was over the line a fraction before the other car.

I let my foot off the accelerator and let the car slow by itself before slowly touching the brakes to leave the strip. I waved to the other driver who looked away.

I smiled to myself as I picked up my time docket. A personal best and spot on.

Pulling up near the rest of my crew I popped the bonnet before getting out of the car.

Taking my black helmet off allowed my long hair to fall free and there was a wolf whistle from the line up of cars waiting for their run. I ignored it.

“Time?” Johno asked from under the bonnet of his 1960’s Falcon.

“Fourteen point two,” I answered, waving the slip.

“Not bad. PB?”

“Yep. Old mate in the commodore wasn’t happy,” I grinned.

“You’ll need to upgrade that engine if you want to do better, Sof,” Steve said from the passenger seat of his Nissan.

“Yeah I know,” I said shaking my head.

“What was your dial in?” Jenny asked leaning beside Steve.

I just raised my eyebrows and smiled.

“How close?” she asked.

Johnno yelled from under the bonnet, “Spot on, Jen.”

“Nice work,” Steve said.

“Fingers crossed,” I said, adding, “I’m going to go grab a bite.”

Jenny came for a walk with me and we were surrounded by mostly men at the tables.

“How ya goin’ love?” an overweight man who was probably twice my age asked.

“Fine,” I replied without looking at him.

He huffed and kept walking.

The day was over before we knew it and we stood around waiting to hear the results.

“Dial in comp!” the announcer called over the dodgy old PA system.

“Third place is John Ryan?” I clapped Johnno on the back. He grinned and ran up to the little stage made up of wooden boxes.

“Second place is Kevin Jones!” A guy ran up and to shake the club president’s hand.

“First place is…” then he had a chuckle to himself, “Sofia Wills!”

The crowd cheered and I could feel everyone looking at me as I walked to the makeshift stage. My face was heating, and I knew I must be as red as a beetroot.

I stepped on to the stage, shook the president’s hand and accepted a little trophy and an envelope.

Johnno pulled me into a tight hug and swung me around almost knocking the others off.

Someone yelled something obscene in the audience and the announcer retorted with something I didn’t hear but made everyone laugh.

“Let’s get outta here, Sof,” Johnno said.