See Ya at the Red Light

SEE YA AT THE RED LIGHT

  Fifth street, dusty and crumbling, ran through an industrial zone of abandoned warehouses. It intersected with Sax Avenue at Beamers Drugs, the only decent remnant of that struggling and discontent malady called Hooksville.  Omess Nileage was a twenty two year old tenament dweller renting out of the Riverside Flats on the southeast side of town.  He was a slim kid with ghost glow gritted skin and slicked back jet black hair.  His medetranian blue eyes enhanced a countenance of cool.  He spoke an erudite street smart emitting trust to anyone he encountered.  Omess was best friends with a character named Josh Vexonra (Vexy for short) since the third grade.
    Everything about Hooksville permeated Vexy like a death sentence.  He stood five feet ten inches and was built like a golden gloves champ. Rigid muscle faced symetry bobbed and weaved with every off the cuff word he spoke.  Upon looking at his heavy purple lidded piercing blue eyes you bore witness to a renegade soul.  He had wax blond hair kept in a military crew cut.  At a very young age Vexy acquired an avid interest in racing cars.  When they were sixteen Omess and he won a quarter mile drag on Millers Cross (a rural road that cut through the Shepards Cornfields). 
    Millers Cross began at the furthest western point of state route thirteen  and ran due south from the Shepards Cornfields for seventeen miles then dipped southwesterly into the bottom east end of a  boomtown called Mission.  Every forlorn youth with raging desire hung out at Shepards Cornfields on late night weekends of spring and summer. 
    They came from every dusty bedroom of Hooksville, sneaking out of their gluey painted windows that taunted inescapable eight by twelve residency with at least one younger sibling.  After school the kids practiced opening their windows to prevent a  shrill screech from waking parents at night.  Two days was the record for getting the "Opened Window" down to a smooth glide.  The McGill brothers, Bobby and Huk prided themselves on this exploit and became known as the Pukka Cracker Jack Professors.  Pretty soon they started charging five cents per course to any kid with the desire to break curfew.
    Omess, Vexy and some of their other friends worked the second shift, Monday thru Friday, at the Hooksville Auto Parts Distribution Center where they had been employed for the past three years.  Early Saturday for Omess was pretty much the same routine.  Wake up at eight, put on a pot of coffee, take a shower, pour a fresh cup, light up a Lucky and phone Vexy. 
    "Yeah I just took her off the slabs.  It was the caliper.  I replaced it with the one Zak traded me, for that extra slick tread.  I took 'er for a run 'bout ten minutes ago...saw Lazy going into Beamers when I passed by and flipped him... that daggone idiot starts with his tongue all dipped an' flappin'...eyes crossed." 
    Omess took a drag on a Lucky and with the receiver held in place between his shoulder and jaw started opening an envelope he had been expecting from an auto parts dealer just outside of Lexington, Kentucky.  He removed the letter from it's envelope and gave it a quick glance.  "They want it Vexy, you can ship it today.  I have the crate in my storage garage.  We'll go over and pick it up on the way home from the drugstore." 
    Vexy let out a howl.  "AHHOOO!... now I can get that turbo in my F-100, thanks Omess." 
    Omess folded up the correspondence and slipped it neatly into his breast pocket.  "No problem Vexy.  So I'll be over in about fifteen minutes.  Weather looks kinda cold for late May." 
    He took a last drag and put the butt out in an ashtray set centered on the kitchen table.  "Sun'll be shinin' soon enough.  I'll see ya in a bit." 
    Omess calmnly placed the receiver in its saddle that was mounted to a tarnished off white wall and positioned immediately beneath a calendar bearing the Blessed Virgin.  He made an ardent  sign of the cross, lifted his black leather jacket from the counter, swiftly slipped into it and exited the flat through a weather beaten web crack windowed back door which he always locked from the outside.  Pushing away from the door then down a shabby two flight staircase, he arrived at his his car.
    Dominion symbolized automotive quintessence.  It was a metallic orange 1959 Chevy Impala two door coupe with a four on the floor power shifter.  His grandpa Abe got it for him through a long time associate at a bargain in return for a past favor.  Grandpa Abe also helped him with the payments whenever he was in a pinch.  He venerated grandpa Abe who considerably raised him from the age of ten, that was when his parents had divorced.  On Saturday afternoons, during the warm weather months, Omess would change carborateurs and add a turbo thrust 348 for late night drag racing.  His best run was unofficially clocked at fifteen seconds on Millers Cross for a quarter mile.
  Driving just past the edge of the tenement dwellings, heading west, Omess sighted Zeke, a common occurence, and the two exchanged a traditional wave of homage.  Zeke was a close friend of grandpa Abe.  He ran the news stand cornered at Fiftieth and Main.  That intersection was a significant place to Omess.  For it is where he learned a valuable lesson.  One that has guided him through the years:
    ---It was a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon.  Grandpa and young Omess were sitting in a 'forty one Ford, at the roadside, eating ice cream cones. Omess had his favorite flavor, New York cherry.  Grandpa began telling Omess a story about himself as a young man in his late teens.  He pointed to a building on the east side of the street.  It was a big brick building with beautiful cornice ornamentation.  Omess was mesmorized by its impressive brick structure and size.  It seemed to rise above the entire city hovering just beneath the clouds.  Grandpa told him that his father had built and owned the building but lost it in the great depression.  He then grasped young Omess' hands, cone and all, between his much larger hands.  He told him that life is full of ups and downs but when you're down, you can't give up.  "And ya know why," he said "because I didn't...and what's more, me and my friends even got some of the main floors back."  Grandpa then let go of young Omess' hands. They sat at the roadside admiring the building while finishing their ice cream --
    As Omess turned south on Fiftieth Avenue, he felt a routine pride in knowing that his great grandfathers building was still standing.                                               
    Coasting up to his house, Omess saw Vexy from a half opened front door wave him to come inside.  As he stepped out of Dominion, he turned and closed the cars door with the care of a mother placing her newborn into its crib.  He entered the two tone blue/grey blunt and aging cedar wood duplex then followed Vexy into the kitchen.
    "Have some eggs and bacon honey... Josh told us you were on your way over."  Trudy Vexonra had a compassionate sadness in her eyes that bore blue collar middle aged parental worry.  At forty four years she still kept an attractive face and figure.  She worked part time as an evening waitress at the Hooksville Diner. 
    "No thanks Mrs. Vexonra, but I'll settle for a cup of coffee if it wouldn't be a bother,"  Omess replied as Vexy exited the kitchen and went to his bedroom to get his jacket. 
    "Not at all dear, sit down and I'll pour you a cup." 
    Omess steadied down on a chair at the center of the table.  "U.S. Thirty is running time trials two weeks from today... think Josh is ready Omess?" asked Mr. Vexonra from the head of the table.  Wayne Vexonra looked like a middle aged Josh.  Forty six years hadn't yet trammeled his chiseled physique.  He was temporarily laid off from his job as the first shift foreman at a tool and dye factory in the industrial zone of Hooksville but a friend of his gave him some work as an assistant carpet layer to help him make ends meet. 
    "I know he's ready sir!"  Omess stirred some sugar in his coffee then lit up a Lucky.
    " I sure don't know what it is that's keepin' you from that track Omess," Wayne said signaling Omess for a cigarette.  "You're the best drag racer I've ever seen!"  He veered forward with bemused pale blue eyes.  "Last year you had the best time trials of any one out there.  You could have gone on tour with all the big dawgs." 
    Omess smiled and handed him a Lucky.  "I got some things going on right now that are keepin' me pretty occupied ... Maybe next year.  Any way Breeze and I are really lookin' forward to workin' the pits for Josh when he makes the tour."  He reached over and lit Wayne's cigarette then cooly slid the lighter back into his right hip pocket. 
    "Yeah... Josh told me you came into some business with a couple of suits from Mission.  He was hollerin' like a coot about his turbo earlier this morning." 
    "Sure have sir, but we got a shop from Lexington to cut the deal for Joshs' turbo."  Omess comfortably dipped his ash into the tray that he and Wayne were sharing.  He always felt a warmth that lifted his spirits in the Vexonras' home.  "You know Angelo Martino...right," he asked.
    "You mean the town clerk...ya, I know him.  He's a good man."
    "Sure is.  Well, we all know how Mission is growin'."  Omess looked down and softly swept the fingertips of his freehand back and forth across the table as if to brush something from it, perhaps an ash that missed the tray.  "So fast that they've been talking with the mayor over here...and want to redevelop some of Hooksville...even some of our cornfields."
    Wayne put his right hand to his chin and slowly tapped the table with his left.  "Yeah, I've heard some scuttlebut regarding that myself Omess," he said.
    Omess took a sip.  "The men I know over there had been mentioning it for the past couple of weeks."  He took another drag.  "Angelo confirmed it.  I saw him yesterday at the post office.  There's gonna be a vote on a referndum this Tuesday."  He sat back a little in his chair.  "The only thing that could kill the plan would be if the folks don't want to sell their farmland." 
    Wayne grimaced.  "It's sad to have to give up so much of your family's tradition ."  He raised his eyebrows then lightly parted his lips with a smack.  "But what else can ya do?"
    "Aaron Lemais has been here forever.  He can't make it.  He told me just the other day that he'd sell in a heartbeat."  Omess responded. 
    "Yeah, At least this way we'll get the town movin' again.  It sure would be nice to get this town back on its feet."
    "Yes sir.  It sure would be nice."  Omess said.
    Vexy was heard coming up the hall whistling 'Just A Giggilo'.  He routinely reentered the kitchen with a brown sueded jacket finger looped over his right shoulder.  A few steps from the back door he cut the song short.  "I told Breeze we were on our way...he's reading something from some author named Dostofsky." 
    Omess and Wayne both donned smiles.  "You mean Dosteovsky Joshua...DOS-TE-OV-SKY!"  Quipped Wayne.     
    Vexy scratched his head.  "Yeah...that's the guy," he replied.  "Anyway, you ready to roll brother?" 
    Omess readied in his chair.  "Guess so."  He looked over to Trudy.  "Thanks for the coffee Mrs. Vexonra.  It was nice seein' you again." 
    Trudy turned away from the stove and approached Omess from behind.  She softly placed her hands on his shoulders.  "It's always nice having you hun.  Now you boys have fun but be safe." 
    From the other side of the table, Vexy sarcastically cleared his throat in response to his mothers concern.  She knew that the boys went racing on Saturday nights.  It was in their blood.  As a matter of fact, Millers Cross was where Wayne and Trudy first met as teenagers when Wayne used to drag.
    "Don't give me that!"  She lightheartedlly exclaimed.  She walked around to him with a raised hand and gently slapped Vexy on his shoulder then burried her head into his chest, wrapping her arms around him.  "I just worry about you boys honey," she said. 
    Vexy pulled his mothers arms from him and took hold of her hands.  He looked directly  into her eyes.  "Don't worry so much mom!"  He said.  He kissed her forehead.  "Dad and his buddies raced when they were our age."  From his chair, Wayne silently agreed with a supportive nod.  Vexy let go of her hands and patted her on the shoulders.  "Everything will be alright," he said. 
    Trudy knew she was going to worry anyway.  "I know honey," she sighed.  "Just be safe is all I ask."  She hugged him again and quickly let go then turned to Omess.  "So we'll see you at Mass tommorrow?" 
    "Yes mam." 
    "Oh, I forgot to mention.  I spoke with Father Francis last night at the Fish Fry.  He's over that flu and says he's going to deliver the sermon tommorrow." 
    "Yeah, grandpa Abe told me.  It sure has been going around.  Glad he's well again."  Omess slid his chair back and reverently rose to shake Wayne's hand.  "Nice seein' you again Mr. Vexonra," he said. 
    "Tell your  grandfather I said hello, Omess."  Wayne returned with a firm hand and a heartfelt respect for grandpa Abe. 
    "I will sir." 
    Omess followed Vexy out the back door to the side of a gloomy grey one car wooden garage.  Vexy wrenched at its rust hinged door as it grudged, scraping its bottom against an oil stained cement.  Just inside to the immediate right and flush against a weatherbeaten wall sat a nineteen fifty six Ford F-100 carborator.  A friend of Vexy's gave it to him  as a spare a few years back when he purchased the truck.  "Breeze can rest it on his lap once she's in the crate.  For now we'll let 'er sit on the floor,"  Omess said as Vexy wrapped the part in an old cloth tarp. 
    "Did you hear what happened to Jake?"  Vexy asked,  picking up the carborator with peril burning in his eyes. 
    "No man,"  Omess replied. 
    "Dag gone team from Mission took him for half a sawbuck last night out at Folklore (a seldom raced drag strip on the northern outskirts of Hooksville).  I told that clam don't get all slick sure and go gunnin' without us... especially without you!" 
    Omess calmly veered his neck back in concern.  "What were they runnin' in,"  he asked. 
    Vexy's eyes opened wide.  "Those guys got lightnin'!"  He said.  He put the carborator down and moved a few steps closer to Omess.  "It's a Roman Red fifty nine Corvette with a 406, aluminum heads and nitrous.  It looks like heaven and burns like the devil." 
    Omess stolidly grinned.  "What was Jake pushin'?"  He asked.
    Vexy turned back towards the carborator.  He jerked his head with an irate peck through the damp and dusty aired garage.  "Steveys' Chevy," he sighed. 
    "The Bel Air, that's a good machine...what was his split?"  Omess asked.
    "Sixteen and a quarter... he said he almost fried puttin' 'er in fourth.  He thinks they cheated off the line.  I told him he has to listen better,"  Vexy frustratingly replied.
    The two walked down the gravel driveway  past Vexy's truck. It was propped up on cinder blocks and covered with blankets just to the right of the path.  "Can't wait to put the turbo in 'er." Vexy said like a kid waiting to open presents on Christmas Day as they continued on towards Dominion to  pick up their friend Breeze (Larry Schutticz).
    Three blocks away, heading west on Ridgewood Avenue (a desolate stretch of tawdry wooden duplex's)  they arrived at Breeze's.  He had been waiting on his front porch and walked to the street as he saw the car approaching.  "What time are we racin' tonight?"  He asked as he climbed in the back. 
    "Those Mission boys want to run at eleven thirty,"  Vexy peevishly replied, thinking of  his younger brothers recent defeat. 
    Breeze reflected on the previous phone conversation with Vexy.  "How's Jake feelin' Vexy?"  He asked.
    "He better be feelin' like spit!"  Vexy answered. 
Breeze reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Lucky's.  He took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth and lit it.  " I want to check the plugs and points on Stevey's Chevy before anybody takes the wheel,"  he said as he noticed the tarp wrapped carborator laying on the floorboard next to him.
    Breeze was a six foot seven inch  gangly kid fretted by acne with unctuos orange fire hair that glinted in thick batched straight strands.  He worked the same shift with Omess and Vexy at the auto distribution center.  A smothered nasal twang ornamented a laid back drawl when he spoke.  He compromised physical awkwardness by becoming skilled in the pits.  Breeze was a deferential soul, ruminating, with a guarded awareness to the abstract.     
    "Jake said something about those fellas cheating, didn't he Vexy?"  Omess asked, pulling away from the curbless gravel strip that banked the weeded lawns of Breeze's block. 
    "Yeah, but I'm not gonna judge those guys without first seein' how they run."  Vexy lit up a Lucky.  He pounded his left thigh with a swift heavy thud while exhaling.  "Jake doesn't have discipline!"  He denounced.  "That kid needs to pay more attention when he's on the strip...  listen to the engine I told him, feel the machine I told him, it's an extension of yourself I don't know how many dag-gone times I have told him!"  He fell back in his seat.  "Oh he listens alright!"  He paused. " He listens to how cool the engine roars so he can impress the honey's."  He took another drag and exhaled.  "Well buddy you're not gonna get any honey's 'till you win the race."
    Omess made a right hand turn onto Fifty First Street grinning mischeaviously.  "Hey Vexy... did you tell Jake you can't count the corn kernels unless you look before you flush?"  A quick silence ensued followed by a fatuous outburst of laughter by all three. 
    Vexy poised, taking another drag.  He exhaled and flipped the butt out the window.  "I just hope he gets it together is all,"  he replied as he turned up the volume dial of Dominions A. M. radio (Charlie Parkers' "Orinothology" was playing). 
    "Us cats are being baptized by the innovative phrasings and be bop melody of the Bird,"  Breeze said. 
    " I dig this tune boys!"  Vexy rejoiced, snapping his fingers in time to the rythym of the song. 
    "Don't worry about Jake Vexy,"  Omess said.  "He's a great racer.  I see yourself in Jake every time I watch him drag."  Omess turned left onto Sax Avenue as an overcast sky suddenly erupted into a seething obtrusion of lightning and thunder.  "He just needs a little tweaking is all." 
    Breeze leaned forward grabbing Vexy's left shoulder and shook him in rapport.  "That's right Vexy."  He reassured him.  "Jake's got the ability.  A few more runs and he'll be darned impossible to beat."
    They pulled into the parking lot of Beamers Drugs as a merciless bombardment of white straight pellting hail began to fall.  "Ruth told me the new issue of Hot Rod should be on the rack today.  I wana read part two of  Slip McCall's OFF THE LINE."  Vexy said as the three exited Dominion and darted their way into the drug store.
    The three rejoined immediately inside the entrance brushing themselves from the storm.  About twenty paces to the left, behind the checkout, was Ruth.  She worked the register weekdays after classes (she was studying for a masters degree in marketing) and for an eight hour shift on Saturdays.
    "I'm gonna kill one in the back alley cubbyhole," Breeze said waving to Ruth while placing a Lucky in the corner of his mouth.  A heavy crackling thunder traipsed the sky as he pushed open the glass storefront door. 
    "Careful you don't get hit by that lightnin'."  Omess warned him. 
    "Yeah, I guess I have a better chance of gettin' hit then most," Breeze responded with the palm of his hand directly over his head in a self concious hint of excessive height.  "The  vices of life bear baleful awards."  He quipped as he dashed into the storm towards the alley. 
    Omess and Vexy started their way towards the counter.  "Breeze is funny about Ruth don't ya think Omess?"  Vexy uttered, while looking down at the checkerboard black and white tile.  " He's gotta get over his feelings for her."  Vexy slowed his steps as they drew nearer making certain that Ruth would not be able to hear them.  "I sure wish he would ask Leah out.  She loves him.  He's gotta realize that Ruth is your girl!"  The two arrived at the counter and stood just to the left as Ruth was cashing out a customer.  She looked over and mouthed a silent hello.  They mutually waved back to her. 
    Ruth O'Day had smooth milk white skin and strawberry blond hair.  She was petite with supple hips and breasts.  She had soulful deep brown circular eyes and large somnolent lids that slowly opened and closed.  Her cute voice and coquettish giggle enhanced an endearing personality.
  "Thank you Mrs. Wright.  Have a nice weekend."  Ruth said, relieved to have served the last shopper from a fifteen minute barage of check out patrons.  "Hi fellas,"  She said as Omess and Vexy approached the vacant counter.  "Five and a half more hours of that and they'll be taking me out on a stretcher."  She flashed a smile.  "I sure could go for a cigarette.  Either of you two fellas want to take over for about ten minutes."
    Omess and Vexy quizically looked at each other with raised eyebrows then turned back to Ruth.  "No thanks,"  they coincided, animated in their raillery. 
    The three of them laughed for a short spell.  As the moment faded, a sudden qualmness overcame Ruth.  She delicately cupped the back of her neck with her right hand.  "Is Breeze out smoking in the back again?"  She asked with an affectionate sympathy in her eyes (Ruth knew Breeze doted over her and felt flattered but could only see him as a close friend). 
    Omess shook his head in silent affirmation. 
    "Yeah, that clam sure is smart but sometimes I wonder where his brain is at."  Vexy answered, intending to allay Ruth's uneasiness.  "Hey Ruth did the new issue of Hot Rod come in?"  He asked, changing the tone of the conversation. 
    Ruth admired Vexy for his concern.  She felt a sudden relief as the corners of her mouth affectionately curved upward.  "Yeah Vexy they're on the rack. 
    Vexy smiled.  " I'm gonna go read Slips' article," he said then eagerly turned towards the magazine rack and started for it. 
    "Allright man."  Omess replied to Vexy' s already departed backside. 
    Ruth relaxed taking a deep breath as Omess leaned over the counter and kissed her.  "He sure is a sweetie,"  she said.  Suddenly her thoughts reverted back to Breeze.  "We have to get Leah and Breeze together.  I feel nervous around him and it makes me sad."  She solemnly frowned.  "I want to be comfortable around him.  He's a wonderful guy and if the situation could..."
    Without notice a little five year old boy came from behind Omess and tugged at his jacket.  "What did the tires of the red car say to the tires of the blue car as they drove down the road?" 
    Omess turned looking down at him and smiled.  "Who are you little man?"  He asked. 
    "I'm Billy Brown.  That's my dad over there."  Omess and Ruth followed Billy's finger which stoutly pointed to a man talking with another patron in the pharmaceutical section.  The man kept a concerned eye on his son.  Billy paused for a second then said.  "We just moved here from Mission.  Dad starts work at the auto distribution center on Monday."  His tone increased with pride as he continued.  "He knows all about cars and racing!"
    Ruth immediately delighted at Billy.  He had determined big blue eyes, brown hair worn in a crew cut and a tight upper lip that dislayed perfect teeth.  He wore an unbuttoned yellow rain coat that revealed a dark brown short pants and jacket suit, white shirt and brown bow tie.
    "So what did the tires of the red car say Billy?'  Omess asked. 
    Billy firmly reflected, poised then answered.  "See ya at the red light."  He anxiously veered towards Omess in an adamant struggle to complete the riddle.  "But the tires of the red car would probably have to look back at the tires of the blue car when...when they got to the red light because... because the red car is faster."  Billy's big blue eyes stared in bewilderment.  He quietly snapped his fingers anticipating a responce.  Omess and Ruth both placatingly smiled. 
    "Oh he's so cute."  Ruth chortled.  " I could hug him all day."
    Billy keenly gazed at Ruth noticing her pierced earings.  They were amethyst designed to an arabesque.  "My mom has earings like those.  She's real pretty, just like you."  He uttered a meek cough and politely covered his mouth with his left hand.  His other hand fiddled at the right pocket of his raincoat.  "Does this place have a washroom?"  He asked.  " I really  have to go ...you see, I had three tall glasses of lemonade this morning.  Mom lets me drink it when I have trouble sleeping from bad dreams."  He pondered briefly.  "She says I'm precocious."  Billy turned looking up at Omess with a reverence.  There was something about Omess that reminded Billy of his father. 
    "Oh he's a doll."  Ruth effusively evoked.  She grabbed a lolipop from the counter display, walked out from behind it and approached Billy.  She bent down and handed him the candy peering into his eyes like an endeared mother.  "We have a washroom in the back.  Would you like Omess to go with you hun?"
    "No thank you.  Dad can take me there."  Billy caught draft of Ruth's perfume.  "You sure do smell nice,"  he said.  He pulled at the pockets of his raincoat.  "I really have to go.  It was nice meeting you."  He smiled and raised the lolipop.  "Thank you for the candy...  goodbye,"  he said and made his way towards the pharmaceutical section.
    Ruth turned to Omess and warmly embraced him.  She quickly kissed him on the lips.  "He's a darlin'," she said then ended the moment with a light pat on his back and returned behind the counter as a booming thunder erupted through an opening front door entrance.  Omess looked in that direction and noticed three gentlemen entering the store.  They were acquaintances from Mission and were heading towards the lunch counter.  On the way, one of the gentlemen saw Omess and made a signaling gesture to him. 
    "I've got to go and talk to these fellas,"  he told her.  "Last night we arranged to meet here and talk shop.  It shouldn't take more than five minutes."  He reached over the counter and gently swept the tips of his left fingers across Ruth's right temple, brushing back her hair.  "Love ya babe."  He reered back from the counter.  "I'll see ya before me and the guys leave,"  he said with a calmn confidence in his eyes then started towards the men.
    "Goodness, it sure is raining cats and dogs out there isn't it honey?"  A conservatively well dressed black women in her late sixties said as she drew her groceries from a hand basket and placed them on the counter.
    "Hi Mrs. Jones.  How are you?" Ruth responded
    "Oh I'm just fine dear.  All but for my back.  This weather puts a pain in it," she said with a chuckle.
    "My grandmother gets the same thing.  She read an article on yoga that seems to work for her.  If you want, I can get you a copy," she said ringing up her items.
    "That would be delightful dear."  Mrs. Jones gently slid a gallon of milk towards Ruth.  "Five more months and we'll have a new president elect" she said.
    "Yes mam, Senator Kennedy sure is charming isn't he"
    "Well, who ever wins will face a great deal of challanges.  Let's hope everything works out for the better dear. "  She took Ruth's free hand, that had just placed the last of her groceries in a bag, and leaned closer to Ruth."  You know, President Eisenhower did a very good job for some of the criticism people give him.  I think he is a great leader."
    Ruth reflected on her grandfather.  "Yes mam,  grandpa had the priveledge of meeting him when he was fighting over in Germany.  Grandpa loves him."  She looked over at the register window.  "Comes to five dollars and twelve cents."
    Mrs. Jones let go of her arm.  She reached into her money purse and paid for her groceries.
    "I'll have that article for you when you come by next Saturday," Ruth cheerfully said.
    "That would be wonderful honey."  She gracefully took a head dress from her overcoat pocket and primly put it on.  "I'll see you next Saturday Ruth dear."
    "O.K. have a nice weekend...hope your back gets to feelin' better," she said as Mrs. Jones walked to the exit.   
    After a congenial twenty minute discussion, Omess shook hands with the men from Mission and started back towards the check out counter where Vexy and Breeze had already been waiting.  He noticed that they were talking with Ruth about something.  As he drew closer the conversation became more perceptible.  "...I know she does Breeze! She really really wants to!  She talks about you all the time.  Ruth was impassioned. 
    Breeze blushed, sheepishly grinning with his front teeth resting over his lower lip.  "O.K. ...then I'll ask her,"  he shyly replied. 
    "Dag gonnit Breeze I'm proud of ya!"  Vexy emphatically shouted.  "You know Ruth wouldn't kid ya.  We've all been waitin' for ya to ask Leah out but we knew how ya felt about ..." 
    "Hey Vexy how was Slips read?"  Omess quickly interrupted in an attempt to quell Vexy.  Breeze and Ruth both froze in an unguarded moment of embarrassment.  Their eyes were locked upon one another.  An uncomfortable silence briefly consumed the checkout area that brought about an immense guilt in Vexy.  He felt obligated to say something. 
    "Darn it... I'm sorry but I'm just so happy for..." 
    Breeze quickly interrupted.  "I guess everyone's been a little uncomfortable 'cause of me,"  he said.  He bowed his head, gathered his thoughts then raised it back up.  "I'm sorry that I made you so uncomfortable Ruth.  I didn't want to cause you any distress."  His eyes warmed with sincerity.  "Please accept my apology." 
    Ruth's emotions swelled.  She indulged in her admiration for him.  "That's alright Breeze."  She tenderly said.  She extended her hand over the counter in an offering of friendship.  "Buddies for life?" 
    Breeze took her hand.  "Buddies for life."  He admiringly said. 
    Immediately Omess walked behind the counter with a Lucky hanging from the corner of his mouth.  He wrapped his arm around Ruth's shoulder and pulled her into his side as the two of them faced Breeze and Vexy.  "And let this be a lesson to ya pilgrim!"  He joked.  They all laughed and felt a welcome relief to the situation.
    Amidst the exuberance Omess sighted little Billy as he and his father were walking towards the exit.  Omess took the cigaratte from his mouth.  "Hey Billy,"  he called.  Billy stopped and looked over, his father followed his response.  "See ya at the red light,"  Omess sentimentally said. 
    Billy shyly grinned and shouted,  "Hope you're not looking back at me."   
    Omess waved to him and smiled.  Billy's face beamed with delight.  "Take care little man,"  Omess said as Billy skipped out the exit following his father.
    The three decided to be at Shepards Cornfields by eleven o'clock for the race against the Mission team.  Omess told Ruth he would pick her up at ten thirty.  They said thier goodbyes to her and went to get the crate for Vexy's carborateur.
    As they drove the storm continued it's relentless downpour.  Dominion cut through small pools of water spraying muddy waves on either side.  Vexy worried about the rain.  He didn't like racing on a wet surface because of hydroplaning.  He was even more concerned about Chet who was also going to race that night.
    Omess dropped Breeze at home first.  Pulling up to Vexy's house Omess tried to calmn him.  "Keep your head on the race Vexy.  If the strip is wet they aren't gonna wanna run anyway.  We'll just do it next Saturday.  I don't want you thinkin' 'bout circumstances that don't matter."  He parked Dominion in front of Vexy's house and turned to him with a serious confidence in his eyes.  "We can take 'em brother."  He put his hand out.  Vexy took his hand gripping it firmly.  "And keep positive with Jake.  Don't even talk about the last race.  It's in the past.  Jake can beat these guys!" 
    Vexy's worry immediately dissipated.  Omess' words had surged him with a sudden and staying motivation.  He smiled effusively.  "Thanks man!  I needed to hear it."  He stepped out of Dominion, quickly pulled up his seat and got the crate that was on the floor board in the back.  Looking at Omess, his mothers worry unwillingly entered his mind.  In an instant, he thought of his father.  "We're gonna take 'em!"  He said, brimming with emotion as he carefully closed the door and ran into the duplex under a tempestous storm.
    By three o'clock the storm had ended.  The remainder of the day was sunny and pleasant.  Omess worked steadily on Dominion in the garage back at his flat.  By ten o'clock he was on his way to pick everyone up. 
    As they approached Millers Cross they saw the McGill brothers talking with little Jack Hampton, a fifteen year old negro boy who migrated from Mississippi a few years back.  His father was an assistant pharmacist at Beamers.  There was an uncommon feeling of excitement in the air.  The moon was full and beamed down on the strip as if that were it's only purpose.  The strip was warm dry and surrounded by the biggest turnout of kids ever at Shepards Cornfields.
    A fifty nine corvette roared up behind them as they were stepping out of Dominion.  Bobby McGill immediately started walking towards the two teams with a billfold in his hand (Bobby took all bets).  "Looks like a toss up on wagerin' fellas,"  he shrewdly said.  "Kids got Jake at half ta win- half ta lose and they got Vexy at half ta win-half ta lose."  He turned and faced the Mission team.  "You folks got a lot of support here tonite."  A friendly sarcasim kindled in his eyes.  "Hope it's not a long ride home in that 'vette."
    The leader of the Mission team contentiously grinned.  He slowly approached Bobby and put out his hand in good sportsmanship.  "A long ride won't take much time in 'er." 
    Bobby shook his hand.  The leader took a strong step back and faced the group.  "I'm Cisco, these are my buddies Dusty and Zoom," he said.  They all exchanged handshakes then gave their bet money to Bobby. 
    I'm gonna go find Stevey," Breeze said. 
    Omess alertly stopped him.  "Don't bother man.  I talked with him earlier today.  We decided Jake and Vexy are gonna run Dominion tonite."  He turned to Jake and swiftly flipped the keys directly at his chest.  "Leave 'im in the dust brother," he confidently said. 
    Jake had driven Dominion many times.  He knew the car as well as Omess but never ran it in a big race.  As he drew a beat on the jingling metal that flashed under the full moon he became frantic.  He couldn't drop the keys.  Not in front of the Mission team.  Not in front of everybody.  They soared closer and closer towards him, then, suddenly his left hand reached up and snatched them.  "Thanks Omess,"  he proudly said.  He looked at Vexy then to the rest of his team.  "I'm not gonna let you guys down," he said swimming with emotion.
    Zoom was going against Jake for the second time in two nights.  He walked over to him with a fierceness in his eyes.  He stood chin high facing Jake but had a quiet intimidation that made Jake feel small.  With a closed mouth, he smugly grinned and pushed a short  breath through his nostrils.  "We'll see who's in the dust," he said pulling his shoulders back. 
    From the starting line an anxious group of voices cried out in unison.  "Let's roll!" It was Little Jack and some of his highschool buddies. 
    After a short staredown the two racers started towards their cars.  As Jake opened the door to Dominion he heard footsteps approaching from behind.  It was Ruth.  "Make us proud Jake," she said, then warmly kissed him on his cheek.  She was gone as fast as she appeared, running towards the starting line like a schoolgirl with a crush.  Jake strapped himself in watching her take a place next to Omess.  She turned back to him and smiled.  "She's just great," he thought to himself as he put the key in the ignition.
    The strip was alive with the sonic rumbling of turbo engines.  Breeze was in pit mode at the back end of Dominion.  He diligently poured five gallons of water onto the pavement then came around and leaned into the drivers side window.  "When that cloth hits the ground it's a walk in the park.  You know Dominions timing.  Wait for her to moan.  As soon as she's hot...take her home," he shouted.  He slapped the top of the car.  "The water's down...let's heat 'em up." 
    "Alright brother," Jake shouted.  Breeze took a few steps back and raised his left hand.  In his right hand he gripped a stop watch.  Jake put the shifting arm into first gear.  With the heel of his right foot still on the break he pushed down on the excellerator pedal.  He slowly released the clutch and at the same time eased off the break enough to get the rear axle spinning.  A monstrous squeal filled the air.  The tires foraciously spun in the water that Breeze laid down.  Smoke and the smell of burning rubber rose from the back of Dominion.  Breeze watched the second hand on his stop watch.  After twenty seconds elapsed he threw his hand down signaling Jake to stop.  He walked back to the car.& amp; nbsp; "Ready brother?" 
    Jake felt confident.  The furious roar of the motor enlivened him.  He gunned the engine and nodded. 
    "I'll walk you to the line,"  Breeze shouted.  He adherently went to the front of Dominion, faced Jake and with a backward walk, guided him to the starting point.
    The crowd was abounding with anticipation.  Huk McGill stood between the front ends of the two cars.  He waved a white cloth at the racers.  "Not until it hits the ground or you lose!"  he shouted.  Both drivers silently nodded while revving their engines.
    Jakes' heart was pounding.  In the distance he saw a crowd gathered at the finish line.  He took a deep breath and imagined himself crossing first.  "Drivers ready!"  Huk shouted holding up the cloth.  The engines screamed.  Huk released the cloth from his grip.  It fell fast and hit the ground.  The cars took off in a blaze.  The engines were blasting and left the line in a cloud of smoke.
    The race was over in fifteen seconds.  From the start, Jake seemed to see the entire event in slow motion.  He felt good in first gear.  The rear wheels were warm and gripped Millers Cross tightly.  He eased into second gear smoothly and imagined a team of pistons pumping up and down, smiling with content, from under the hood.  Dominions' engine growled as if it were speaking to Jake, cunningly advising him.  He felt invincible slipping the car from second into third gear.  All of a sudden, from the corner of his eye he noticed that Zoom was right beside him.  Everything stopped.  He fell from composure and couldn't shake the last race from his mind.  He had to get Dominion into fourth gear without a flaw to stand a chance at winning.  Nothing but dark night was visible, though he was only one hundred yards from the finish line.  Urgency effected his perception sending his mind to a time when Omess was training him out at Folklore on a cool and sunny Saturday morning.  He remembered what Omess had told him.  She'll take you to heaven if you know how to treat her.  The words calmed him.  He quickly looked over at Zoom.  His confidence was back.  He looked forward and saw the anxious crowd at the finish line under a beaming moonlight.
    As Jake victoriously hurried out of Dominion he was immediately lunged upon by Vexy who grabbed his shoulders and shook  him wildly howling like a madman.  Jakes arms swung at his sides.  He responded with a loud cry, "I did it man!  I beat him!"  He reached up and grabbed Vexy's jacket at the chest.  The two brothers pushed and pulled one another screaming with joy as the crowd gathered around them applauding.  Within a minute, Zoom briskly broke through the crowd and approached them.  The fierceness was still in his eyes but defeat had subdued his expression. 
    "Great race man.  I thought I had you at the stretch but you hit it just right."  He put out his hand and smiled.  Jake quickly composed himself.  He took Zooms hand and shook it firmly. 
    "Thanks Zoom," he paused catching his breath.  "Yah man, you scared me at the three quarter," he paused again.  His emotions were surging from within but he kept them at bay.  "Great racing against you Zoom.  "We sure gave the kids a good show, didn't we!" he said with a big grin. 
      In the second and final race that night Vexy went up against Cisco.  It was no contest.  Vexy defeated him easily.
    Jake and Zoom got to talking during Vexy's race.  The two fastly became friends.  Zoom even regretably told Jake that he might have cheated off the line out at Folklore.  When it was all over, as the crowd dispersed, Cisco invited the Hooksville team to a hamburger joint called Lonnies at his expense.  Everyone appreciated the offer but due to the advanced time (it was twelve thirty Sunday morning) they respectfully declined.  Jake didn't.  He decided this was a tremendous opportunity to get better acquainted with the Mission team.  Vexy was reluctant in letting Jake go but the nights elated events overpowered his uneasiness and he granted permission.  Gleefully and with self assurance, Jake told Vexy to inform their parents that he was at Lazy's working on an engine as an aliby for a wo rse case scenario.
    Vexy was the last to be dropped off.  Omess made sure he was securely in the house before driving away.  Alone in the hallway, Vexy looked at his wristwatch.  It was one thirty.  He earnestly ran Jakes aliby through his mind in preparation for a sudden encounter with either of his parents.  His eyes fixed on his bedroom at the end of the dark and still hall.  With soft steps he made his way feeling a bit like a theif in the night.
    A little more than an hour later he was wakened by shrill hysterical screaming.  He jumped from his bed in a frenzied state trying to shake the effects of drowsiness.  Fear took hold of him and ran through his body making him feel nauscious.  Another scream instantly sorted his faculties.  It was Trudy in the master bedroom.  He instinctively glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it was three fifteen.  Panic stricken, he sprinted down the hall.  Trudy was submerged in Waynes chest pitifully hitting his shoulders with the sides of weakly formed fists as Vexy entered the room.  "My baby, oh Lord not my baby," she continued to cry out between long grieving moans.
    Vexy's heart fell to his feet.  His knees buckled.  He knew something terrible had happened to Jake.  Tears uncontrolably began streaming down his face.  "Is Jake O.K. ...what happened...is he O.K.?" he bellowed.  "Please God... tell me he's alright!"  Wayne looked at him with a grieving seriousness in his expression.  He pulled Trudy in tighter.  "Jake's been in an accident,"  he said and started sobbing.
    Sunday morning was cold and overcast.  A light mist steadily fell down as the parishoners entered St. Marys.  The weather seemed to mirror Jakes status.  He was in critical condition. 
    Omess and Ruth sat silently in the church pew.  Omess was reading from a piece of paper that he always kept in his suit coat pocket.  Breeze gave it to him a few years back.  It was the Prayer of St. Francis.  Every Sunday he reflected on the prayer before mass began.
                            "...For it is in giving that we recieve;
                              it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
                              and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.  Amen"   
    He neatly folded the paper with trembling hands and slipped it back into his pocket.  He kneeled down covered his face in his hands and quietly wept.
    After mass, they all gathered in the parking lot.  Ruth's eyes were swollen from crying.  "When can we go and see him Vexy?"  She asked.
    "The doctor said we can all stop in later this afternoon."  Vexy meekly answered.  His lips were quivering.  "Does anybody have a cigarette?" He listlessly asked with a blank stare.  Omess and Breeze quickly dug into their breast pockets. 
    "I got one Vexy," Breeze said, holding out a Lucky.  Vexy slowly reached out his hand.  His fingers trembled rapidly and almost knocked the cigarette from Breezes grip.  Breeze had to light it for him as it dangled from his mouth. He took a drag and let the cigarette fall to the ground as he exhaled. 
    "They're all critical ... that guy Cisco was driving.  They were side swiped by a truck.  The truck driver's fine.  They're holding him in custody."  Vexy uttered with blank eyes and a dead expression.
    Omess desperately tried to instill some hope on the tradgedy.  He walked up to Vexy and hugged him.  "He's gonna make it Vexy... he'll pull through."  He firmly took hold of Vexy at the shoulders and looked into his eyes.  "Remember that time when we were---what---seven or eight, playing ghost in the graveyard," He snorted.  "And that knuckle head, Jake..." Omess paused.  He had to restrain himself from tears.  He took a breath and continued.  "He couldn't have been more than six years old." 
    Breeze broke in trying to help.  "Yeah he hid in the Mcdonalds treefort."
    "Yeah that's right...he hid in the Mcdonalds treefort."  Omess said quickly looking at Breeze with tender appreciation.  "It was pitch black.  The weather was cold and misty... just like it is now."  Omess' breaths were short and choppy.  He sniffled and swallowed some mucous.  "Remember Jake fell from the top of the fort and lay there unconcious.  We all thought he was..."  Omess had to stop again.  He bit down hard on his lower lip.  As he continued the story, his words came out slowly in a high pitched whimper.  "We all thought he was dead."  Omess was now crying.  Ruth, Breeze and Vexy were also crying.  Omess looked up to the sky.  The misty rain softly splashed upon his face and for at least a brief moment, seemed to wash away the sorrow.  He brought his face down from the rain, looked back at Vexy and shook him .  "Well he didn't die did he! "  he shouted filled with hope.  He grabbed Vexy and held him as tight as he could.  "He's gonna pull through!"  he shouted sobbing like a little boy.