Racing Home

Chapter 1

I was rooted in the driver's seat, my right hand, ready on the ignition key, the other holding the steering wheel tight. In anticipation, I waited for Nick to give me the go-ahead to fire up the engine. He was seated alongside me; his seat slid back as far as possible to accommodate him and the laptop on his legs. As his fingers danced on the keyboard, his eyes were focused on the small screen, analysing the software program that would eventually show us if our project was successful.

"Shoot," he said. That was his signal to start the engine.

My task was to keep an eye on the speedometer and the rev counter. Nick would notify me when to change gear and how much to force my foot down on the accelerator. Once the Beamer was in gear, the instrument panel didn't take long to show we were doing 120mph. A quick glimpse at the screen on the laptop confirmed a similar speed reading. I would put my foot down in normal circumstances, pushing this beast to 150 mph, but when the car is on a chassis dyno and the wheels are spinning on rollers. To me, that isn't normal. It just freaks me out.

"Release the pedal," Nick yelled. So I could hear his voice over the sound of the roaring six-cylinder engine.

As I released my foot off the accelerator, the engine's thundering sound dropped to idling speed. I let the vehicle purr softly for a moment while Nick finished off with his calculations on the laptop. Once finished, he made a hand gesture across his throat. Another one of his signals, this one, was to switch off the engine.

"What's the reading? How's the engine running?" I asked Nick eagerly.

He didn't say a word for a moment. With an emotionless expression on his face, he stared at the laptop screen. He turned the device slightly towards me, giving me a better view of the screen. It showed a reading of 242bhp. The graph for the car's torque and brake horsepower was almost identical.

"How the fuck did you push the mod-chip to that level?" I screamed with joy. Both of us rejoicing, making the car shake.

We both froze when we heard the familiar voice we both knew. "How many times have I told you guy's to fit the fume extractor onto the exhaust when you test the cars?" Mr Sutherland yelled from across the garage. "I go out for ten minutes to get lunch, and you break every rule in the book!" He marched towards the car, stopping by the passenger side window.

"I'm sorry, Mr Sutherland. I just thought we would get a better reading if the exhaust didn't have any diversions," I said before Nick could say anything. "It was my decision. I'm sorry, sir."

Nick turned the laptop to face Mr Sutherland, our teacher.

Mr Sutherland took a glimpse at the screen. He squinted his eyes as he got closer to read the small numbers. "How the...." He paused. "How did you get the brake horsepower so high?" he curiously asked. He looked at us with a smile from ear to ear.

Nick explained to Mr Sutherland what adjustments he had made to improve the engine's performance with the mod-chip, giving the car power enhancement. By the time Nick explained everything to our teacher, other students had gathered around to see what we had achieved.

Noticing the commotion by everyone around him, Mr Sutherland yelled, "You better clean up before you guys go home today." His voice had a tone of authority.

"Yes, sir," Nick and I replied at the same time.

He sauntered off towards his office, taking a sip of his soft drink as he walked away, checking with other students'. He said to Alan and Eddie as he went past them. As usual, they mumbled to themselves.

"Why do you always have to do that?" Nick said.

"What?" I replied.

"Take the blame when we are both at fault."

"Don't worry about it." I smiled while I cleaned the area behind the car from the exhaust fumes.

We rolled the BMW of the chassis dyno, pushing the car outside. Nick and I were giving the engine a quick check before pulling the bonnet down. That is when Alan and Eddy sneaked up behind us.

"Remind us again, how old is this piece of crap?" Alan chuckled.

"What do you want, Alan?" I attacked back.

"I hope you two are ready for tonight? After the race is over, you'll be taking that piece of crap to a scrap yard," Alan said while he looked over at our car as he began to chuckle with his friend Eddy.

Nick and I watched them as they walked back to Alan's car, both of them still laughing.

Alan drove a BMW 120i M Sport. As he opened the driver's door, holding it ajar for us to see his most recent purchase. He had mounted a pair of Sparco bucket seats. Nick stepped forward. He was ready to say something to him. I raised my hand, blocking his advance. Alan sneered while he slid into the bucket seat. Eddy, like a snake, slithered into the passenger seat. With a roar of the engine, the 120i M Sport disappeared around the corner.

Finishing off our inspection, we closed the bonnet then climbed into our BMW. Nick got into the driver's seat, as it was his turn to drive the Beamer today.

"Why is it? When we put a new component on the engine, it's the day you drive the car?" I asked Nick.

With a smirk on his face, he replied, "You drove it when we tested it."

"Yes, while the car was motionless. I was doing 120 mph on rollers."

"At least, the police can't stop you from speeding," he smirked. We both started laughing as he fired up the engine.

*****

I have known Nick for two years. I met him at Hatfield University when I was enrolling for the course we are both studying. He was in the queue in front of me. As we were waiting, we got chatting about the university and the subjects. By the end of the first year, we were two of a kind. Our friendship got more vital day by day.

Nick is the same height and built like me. He has golden blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. He's the brains between us, always helping me with the day to day lessons we are taking and being the group leader in any projects our teachers assign us.

Automotive Engineering is the course we are studying. The first year was learning how a motor engine works, engine performance and aerodynamic structure -- the second year, we needed to acquire a motor vehicle. Our project was to make it work more efficiently and enhance its performance. That's when our Beamer came into our project. We had purchased it together with the first instalment of our student finance funds. We saw the BMW advertised in the Loot. After a thorough inspection and a test drive by both of us, we decided the car was perfect. After negotiating a slightly lower price with the seller, we closed the deal.

*****

"Do you want to crash at my house for a few hours until the race?" Nick asked me with an expression of concern on his face.

"I'm ok, mate, just drive me home," I quietly said. My eyes focused ahead.

*****

My name is Michael Porter, Mike, to the people who are close to me. I am twenty-one years old, my height is six feet and two inches, and I have a lean body to match my tall frame. The half-hour workout I do every morning helps to keep me in shape. My hair is as black as coal and curly, my eyes are brown, which complements my naturally tanned skin.

I am still living at home with my mother and stepdad, Frank. Frank came into our life when I was fourteen. Two years after, my father lost his life in a work-related accident. It was the worst mistake mum made when she married Frank. My mother received a lump sum of money from dad's life insurance. She used most of it to purchase the property we live in from Haringey Council. The rest of it was flushed down the toilet by Frank with his business schemes, which never took off. When the money was gone, he tried to re-mortgage the house. He wasn't too pleased when the bank manager told him that the house was not in my mother's name.

"The house deeds will go to Michael Porter when he is twenty-five," the bank manager explained to Frank.

When my mother and Frank got back home from the bank, he beat her. I was at school at the time. When I got home and saw my mother, her left eye was almost closed. I took her in my arms, but the pain all over her body was too much. When I tried to embrace her, she pulled away from me. That is how much pain she felt when you touched her. Frank was in the hallway. I attacked him. He pulled off his belt and thrashed me with it, knocking me on the floor. My mother tried to cover me and received the blows from the thick leather. I was sixteen when that happened. Now it's primarily verbal abuse towards my mother and me. I've tried to intervene, but my mother tolerates him. I think she fears what he will do to us if she throws him out.

*****

"Your stop, buddy," Nick said as the car came to a halt outside my house.

I looked at him and smiled. "I'll see you later," I said. I got out of the car and started making my way to the house.

The beep of the Beamers horn sounded. I turned around to see what Nick wanted.

"Have patience, this time next week. We will be driving through Europe!" Nick yelled.

"With £500 more in our pockets after tonight," I yelled back. I walked toward the house as he drove off.

When I opened the front door, I could hear Frank's voice. It was coming from the living room. I tried not to make any noise when I closed the main entrance, but the door hinges' crackling sound gave me away. I took a deep breath as I stepped into the hallway.

There was silence for a moment.

"Have you decided to come home, you little prick?" It was Frank, yelling from the living room. "Come here, you fucking coward?" he carried on with his verbal abuse.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reopened them and walked into the living room. Frank was seated on his recliner seat. I say his recliner because no one else is allowed to sit on it. His body stretched out, one leg crossed over the other -- his head, resting on his hands, both his elbows, sticking out. His friend Peter was sitting on the sofa opposite. He didn't say anything, just looked at me and then at my mother, who was standing at the kitchen entrance, leaning on the wall holding a tea towel tight in her hand.

I just looked at Frank for a few seconds. "Good afternoon, Frank," I said. I turned to Peter. "Pete." Then I nodded my head. He nodded back. I walked up to my mother and kissed her on the cheek.

"Where's my kiss," Frank sarcastically said. As he began to laugh, making a snorting sound.

"Go to your room and get ready for tea, Michael," mom whispered in my ear.

Frank jumped up off the recliner and leapt towards my mother and me. "What did you say about me, bitch?" he yelled at her. I jumped in front of him. I stood my ground between him and my mother. Our eyes locked, both of us staring at each other. I was ready to go for him if he said anything else about my mother or me.

"I just told Michael to get ready for tea, Frank," mom said.

I looked away. Dropping my shoulders, I walked away, up to my room. I had lost count of the number of times I walked away from giving him a well-deserved thrashing. I was scared for my mother, what he would do to her when I wasn't there.

My body was trembling from the anger I had towards Frank. I went straight into the shower, letting the cold water run down my frame. It cooled my body from the heat of the day but mostly calmed my nerves. While getting dressed, my mother knocked on my bedroom door, telling me that dinner was ready. I didn't answer. I was angry at her for still having that man in the house. She waited a while, but when I didn't respond, she eventually went back downstairs. I regretted not speaking to her. I grabbed my jacket and got out of the house as fast as I could.

Chapter 2

The walk to the parade of shops at the end of my street would usually take ten minutes. I was there in five. My adrenaline was still high with what occurred a half-hour ago. I dug my hand into my jeans pocket for my smartphone. Retrieving it, I pushed the quick dial button for Nick's number; it went to voice mail after several rings. I tried again once I was outside Tony's chip shop. Nick answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up, buddy," he cheerfully said.

"Nick, don't go to my house. I'll be at the chip shop down my street waiting for you."

"What's happened this time?" There was a pause in Nick's voice. "I'll be there in a half-hour. Have you eaten yet?" he worriedly said.

"No," I replied.

"Wait for me inside the shop. We'll grab something to eat when I get there. Got to go, mate, I just got out of the shower, and I'm dripping all over the carpet." The line went dead.

Tony's chip shop was jam-packed with customers. I got in line in the queue and patiently waited for my turn to get served. I could see Tony, the proprietor behind the counter, preparing some fillets of fish with batter. His son next to him was getting them and putting them in the deep-fryer. Tony's wife Mary was at the till serving the customers. Friday was Tony's most active day, as most Brits would have 'Fish and Chips' at the end of the week.

When Tony observed me, he raised both his eyebrows as a hello gesture and smiled. Once it was my turn to get served, Tony swiftly wiped his hands on his apron, then hurried to the counter to take my order.

He placed his hand on Mary's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "have a break for five minutes, honey." Seeing me, she smiled. With a kiss on her husband's cheek, she disappeared into the back of the restaurant for a break.

"Hey, Mike. What will it be today?" Tony said.

"I'll have a coffee to takeaway. When my friend comes, we'll order something to eat." My eyes wouldn't meet his eyes, something I would do when I was annoyed. He noticed at once that I was upset.

He pushed some numbers on the cash register before he repeated the order. "That will be one coffee and two large fish and chips to eat here. That will be..." He started scratching the side of his head with his index finger. A moment later, he said, "That will be five quid, Mike." He asked one of the waitresses to prepare a coffee and take it to an empty table she had just cleaned.

I stood there with a twenty-pound note in my hand. Before I could protest, Tony snatched the money out of my hand, replacing it with a fiver and a tenner. Tony then motioned me towards a table behind me. I sat down. Within a couple of minutes, the waitress brought me my hot beverage.

Tony and my father were best friends. Dad would always come and help Tony after work on a busy day. After my father passed away, mom wasn't too good; she went into a depression. She didn't have anybody close, like family. Her parents passed away before I was born, and my father was an orphan. Dad had a brother who lived abroad. Mum contacted him, but he was too busy to be concerned with his brother's funeral. Tony and Mary were there for mum and me. Tony would always ask me if everything was ok at home or if I needed anything for school. I believe mum spoke with Mary about the problems we had at home. She needed someone to talk to.

I didn't have to wait too long for Nick. On entering the shop, he spotted me straight away. He came over and slid into the seat opposite me. With a concerned look on his face, he said. "Is everything ok, Mike?"

"Everything is good, Nick." I tried my best to smile, but I wasn't fooling him.

"Don't grin at me and pretend everything is ok." He responded with an annoyed tone in his voice. He looked at me for a moment before he proceeded. "You know there are places your mother can go for help for abused women."

Before I could answer back, Tony came over with our meals. "Two large fish and chips for you gentlemen," he said.

We thanked him before he retreated behind the counter, where he carried on with his work. No more was said about what was happening at home. We both buried our faces in our meals. Like always, I finished eating first. Dad always advised me, "Mike, you have to chew your food properly before you swallow it." With that memory in my mind, I looked at my best friend eating, and I smiled. Once Nick had finished, we reviewed our strategy for the race we had later on in the evening, or should I say, in the early hours of the morning.

It was a four-mile race between two cars. Alan will be driving his vehicle, and Nick is driving our Beamer. Nick and I flicked coins the previous day on who would drive the Beamer. Nick won. Alan had a newer and more powerful BMW, which he customised with Eddy. Ours was an older model with most of the parts restored or replaced with upgraded components. Plus the mod-chip we installed lately. The race was on the A10 at 02:00hrs. At that time there will be no cars on the road. It will start from Cheshunt and end when the first car drives under the Hoddesdon flyover.

Nick began to go over the race details one more time. "The start of the race is at the crossroads between Church Lane and the A10 Great Cambridge Road. The vehicles will start next to each other at the traffic lights. Further down the A10, there is a speed camera. The race starts once you cross the last camera road marking. If the speed camera gets triggered by us going too fast, the race will be a forfeit. If everything goes as planned from the start, the competition ends four miles down the dual-carriageway. The winner is the first car that goes under the Hoddesdon flyover." When Nick finished, he waited for my response.

I gave him a light punch on the shoulder and said, "Just make sure you have your headlights on."

"Why?" he asked, with a bewildered look on his face.

"Because the A10 has no street lights. There won't be any cars in front of you. You will need your beams to get a better view of the road." I chuckled. "Alan will be too busy gazing at your tail lights."

We stayed at Tony's until closing time, which was well after midnight. We drove around for a while before proceeding onto the A10 towards Cheshunt.

We were going to join the others at the King James pub, in the centre of Cheshunt, near the Old Pond. As we drove by the pub, we noticed Alan standing outside next to his car. He was mingling with some locals. His project partner, Eddy, was seated inside the vehicle. His face, inches away from his smartphone. He was in a world of his own. Nick did a swift U-turn, causing the tyres to screech on the tarmac. He pulled over next to Alan's vehicle. He got his attention and the perception of a crowd of people who appeared from all directions. It didn't take the masses long to form a gathering around the two Beamers.

"Everyone assumed you weren't going to show. You know the probability of you winning with that piece of crap," Alan scornfully said while pointing his index finger towards our car.

"Are we going to do this or stand here and argue all night?" I replied with venom in my voice.

We drove to Hoddesdon flyover on the A10. Alan and Eddy were leading the way; Nick and I were not too far behind, and following us were another twenty or more cars, a convoy of vehicles. These were the spectators or like I would say, 'eyewitnesses to who wins the race?' Everyone parked on the hard shoulder under the flyover. Paul, the organiser of the race, explained to Nick and Alan the rules. Once they finished, they prepared themselves to get into their cars to drive back to Cheshunt, where the race would start.

Alan and Eddy exchanged words before Alan started up the engine and shot off like a missile towards the next exit to return to Cheshunt. Eddy stood there, staring at the car's rear lights as it faded into the night.

I walked up to our car to say good luck to Nick. Before I could speak, he proclaimed, "I can't do this, Mike. You have to drive the car. You're a better driver than me."

I froze. I was speechless.

He got out of the car and held the door open for me to get into the driver's seat. "Don't force our baby too much, Mike. The engine is much more powerful now. You have to take it easy," Nick advised me.