Go-Cart Racing

      Go-cart racing is the best thing I have ever done!  At least my parents knew I wasn’t a loser.

    While my dad was loading my go-cart onto the trailer, my mom made a suggestion,” Maybe you should think about doing something else next summer, just in case go-cart racing doesn’t work out.” Great, now I was a loser to my friends and my family. When we got home and unloaded my go-cart, my best friend Doug came over to play “Galactic Star Frogs” with me. I am the best at this game. In the game, you’re a smuggler. You and your frog buddies have to sneak a package from one planet to another, dodging interplanetary snake patrols and fighting vicious lizard pirates. A lot of times, I will run from the pirates or get found out by the snake patrol just for the chase. I had an idea about my racing problem though. All I need to do is make my engine quieter.

    I pulled on Doug's shirt to get his attention, “Doug, your father is a mechanic.”

    He nodded,” Yeah, so?” 

    I hit the pause button so we could talk,” I want to put a muffler on my go-cart.”

    Doug gave me the oddest look,” why? So you can rev your engine without getting disqualified? ” We both laughed. Doug gave me that odd look again, “why though? You love the sound of go-cart engines. Its part of what you love about go-cart racing!” I gave Doug a serious look and waited until I could see that he knew I wasn’t joking around. Doug lowered his eyebrows and dropped the smirk on his face.

    So I explained, “Whenever I’m on the track and my engine goes full throttle, I space. Then I’m hitting other go-carts and falling behind. Everyone thinks I can’t drive a go-cart! ”

    His face took on a seriousness,” sure thing Max. Let’s go!” We headed off to see Doug’s father, Mr. Kimble. I pushed my-go-cart from the backyard. Doug hopped on the back rail behind the engine and pulled the cord to start it and shouted,” Let’s go!” I hit the gas and we flew down the sidewalk towards Doug’s house. I hit the kill switch just before we got to his yard, and we drifted in like a plane coming down for a landing. Doug hopped off and reached for his front door.

    I raced to the door and grabbed the handle before Doug could reach it,” you must swear never to tell anyone why I want a muffler.” Doug tilted his head and began rubbing his chin.

    Then he tapped his mouth with his finger and looked directly at me,” We can just tell my dad you want it because it’ll look cool.” I realized I had been holding my breath and quickly exhaled in relief.  Doug was the best friend a guy could ever have. He went inside and talked to his dad.

    Then we went to his garage and Mr. Kimble pulled an old moped muffler from a small scrap,” OK boys, this should be small enough."  ‘Tomorrow will be different’, I thought to myself and smiled.

      Doug gave me that serious look again, “What about Nelson?” –TO BE CONTINUED--