All that We Hide (reworked - 3rd person)

“Ouch! Son of a bitch!” That was the second time in a week she had slipped while chopping food.

“Dammit!” She yelled to anyone and no one as she grabbed the towel and held onto a bleeding finger.

“Okay, calm down, Annie Reynolds.” Annie took a deep breath to do just that.

“Remember who this is for!”

It was for Cody Wagner. He was such a good friend. What a story his was – not all good but he seemed to keep on keeping on despite everything. That night he was having Angela, his ‘girl’, over to his coach for a romantic dinner. Annie imagined it would be the kind of date that makes a girl’s palms sweat and her heart flutter. Hearing about his plan caused her to react just that way. So, when Cody asked for Annie’s help, she agreed. It’s not every day a boy strives to impress as he had.

That’s what Annie Reynolds does around the circuit. She helps out where she can – cooks, cleans, repairs, nurses cuts – hers and others. Being there to witness all of the action of stock car racing was thrilling - so much so that she almost never could have imagined it.


She hadn’t been tagging along with the circuit very long - only that season. In that time, though, she did make a few friends – Cody, Brian and Mandy, Angela and Britt. There was Nick, too. Brian and Nick were drivers in the Elite series.

Annie still needed to occasionally pinch herself to make sure she was really working the circuit. Even so, she didn’t get what the fuss was about when she saw fans crowding the gates and thrusting memorabilia into the face of a driver. The appeal and the sport of this business were understandable but she was amazed by the fanatics and the floozies. Women threw themselves at the drivers and offered themselves up just to get close to the fame. In the short time she had been tagging along, she had sensed a distinct force field around the drivers. This was fine with Annie since that is not what brought her here. She was a fan too but not a groupie.

She had always been a fan of stock car racing. Growing up, that’s all there was on Sunday television. None of those drivers were still driving but had passed the torch to their sons and in some instances their daughters. Stock car racing is such a great spectator sport. Annie found it easy to understand. Cross the finish line first and you win. Beyond that though, she was intrigued by all of the science, engineering and practice behind the scenes.

Make no mistake – the drivers are the end users and they work magic of their own but they wouldn’t be there if not for the scores of people who worked behind the wall and behind the scenes. This sport has dynasties created by racing families. There was Richard Benson Racing Incorporated – a.k.a. Mr. Hard Ass – the later moniker known by many but spoken by few. There was also Merle Corcoran Iron Horse and Wayne Proctor Racing.

Right then, Annie was nursing her own cut. She sat back in the booth of her little kitchen table. She loved her trailer but it got cramped during projects like this. With a sigh, she slouched forward attempting to relieve the strain in her back.

The sun streamed in the window warming her aching back and soothing her further.