The Bench Racers Journal

[Terry Bentley]

Caution: This chapter is rated PG. For content violence and language. If you are a soy boy, cupcake or buttercup I recommend you consider the mental anguish before reading.

Chapter 52

Steve and I have been busy trying to get some or any progress done on the kart and engines. Just something to more us forward and start racing sometime soon. It is well into summer already and no farther along than when school was first over.

Hey girls! Is this where you two slum out all day? What a hole in the wall dump. How old is this ancient barn?

I turn around and see a guy that almost looks familiar. But not really. He might be a year or two older than me. A bit taller, but very skinny.

He has that kind of smirk that makes me just want to punch him in the face for no other reason. His attitude has already set me off just walking up to the garage right now. He is pushing a bicycle. I look down and it has a flat on the rear tire.

The bike is a red Schwinn Jaguar with 26" tires. Could not be more than a year old either. Very good looking in perfect shape. He is just barely tall enough to ride this bike, so must not have had it very long. It is only a single speed coaster model, but still cost about $75. I cant imagine spending that much money for a bike, Wow.

I had recently acquired a slightly older Schwinn Tiger. Someone had tossed it away at a house that was going up for sale. The three speed rear hub was busted, so I changed it out to a single with coaster brake. I decided to keep the caliper brakes. This thing will stop like super quick now. It has 24 inch tires. Since I am still average height for my age, it is the perfect size for me right now. If I get a growth spurt, then maybe have to go to a 26 inch tire. But right now, it is comfortable, fast and easy to go places on.

Hey, awesome looking bike there. You must take really good care of it. I responded back to him trying to keep things civil.

Yea, so what if it is? Whats it any business of yours? I sure didnt ask you for an opinion.

Now, without the most polite tone in my voice this time, OK, so what is it that you want here anyway?.

What, dont you want to help a friend you see in distress?

My knee jerk response now just slips out without thinking. Well I dont see either one of those here. Am I supposed to know you or something?

Well maybe. I know who you are. My name is Greg. Then he holds out his hand in what I assume as to shake. I reach out and start to introduce myself. Right before my hand makes contact, he pulls back and then does that fingers thru the hair routine. PSYCH! Theres a fool born every minute.

OK, this jerk is starting to get on my nerves. No, he already has. So GREGORY, what is it you really want? Why are you even here? I dont remember seeing your name on the guest list.

At first he looked mad and yelled. MY NAMED ISNT GREGORY. ITS GREG. WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO.....But immediately backed off. Sorry, just chillin, just breaking the ice here. You know my cousin. Her name is Karla. Mullins,...I think you were in her class.

Ok so I know your cousin. What do you want?

Well, my bike has a flat. I thought I recognized you when I was pushing past here out on the street. Maybe you can help a bud out? Hey, is that your kart over there? Looks like it is sort of beat up. Doing a little bit of a fixer upper are we? Did you maybe have a mishap sometime in the past?

So like you guys arent really serious about racing karts? Thats almost funny, if you were. You wouldnt even stand a chance against a real racer. I bet neither one of you have a clue what it takes to even be one. Sure dont see anything here that would be competitive. You guys are lost in space. Totally wasting your time if you ask me. You guys couldnt even compete as bench racers. Yea thats what you are. Two back marker bench racers. That is all you are. Haha!.

OK! Now I know who this jerk is. He is the jackass that reeked havoc at the track that night. His voice sort of sounded familiar, but I had only heard him from a distance when he was yelling and screaming obscenities at his parents. Oh, dont forget the flag man. He didnt hold back on him either.

So Greg,...Mullins, I presume. You race at Fabens. Oh, well, what I meant to say is, you used to race there. They threw you out that night after the wreck. What was your deal anyway? Do you always drive like a raving idiot lunatic?

Man you sure do talk big for a nobody. A has been. Well you cant be a has been, because you never was. Why dont you step out in the street and say that again to my face. Steve had been standing there quietly listening.  But now decides to stick his two cents in. Why dont we will all step out in the street and both of us say it again to your ugly mug shot. Didnt you hear him? You are not welcome here.

Back off there sonny, its cool. I know when to turn the other cheek. Right after saying that, he turned his butt our way and cut a loud fart. Steve tensed and started to roll his right hand into a fist.

Hold on Steve, I got this. So you really want some help or not? Sure have a piss poor way of asking. I can fix your tire. Or you can use the phone and call someone to come get your smelly butt.

For some reason, he immediately got tight lipped and tensed up.

No, no need to call anyone. Yea man, I can use a patch job. How much you gonna charge me? I aint wastin a bunch of hard earned doe on just a two bit repair. How do I know you will even fix it right?

Its 25 cents per patch. And you dont.

Thats robbery. I can buy the whole kit for not much more than that.

Ok, theres the door, start pushing. Where did you say you live?

I didnt. But since you asked. I live over by the White Rock Airport. In those brand new expensive homes. My dad built all of them. Not like these old crappy shacks around here.

Ok, you dont like the price. Tough. It should not take more than 45 minutes, if you walk fast enough and not make any stops to get home. Pushing a bike with a flat tire, uh, might add another 15, give or take. See ya!. I turn around and start acting like his is not there.

Man just chill, making some small talk is all. No need for all the hostility. We are all buds here. Dont take it so personal. I am just joshing with you guys. OK, I might pay what you want. Just to make sure tho, I will help out so you dont try to pull a fast one. Just because I am getting you to fix it doesnt mean I dont know how to do it myself.

Fine, what ever man. Hey Steve, go grab the....Greg interrupts me right then.

Hold on, I will get them. I do know what tools that are needed. Where are your wrenches? I will grab the right numbered ones for you.

Tools are usually kept in a tool box. Over there on the bench. Bottom drawer.

He walks away and towards the toolbox on the other end of work bench. I holler at Steve again, then just motion with my eyes. He goes over and grabs the Monkey Grip patch kit in the round cardboard tube.

As I start to flip the bike over, Greg yells at me. You better be careful. Thats an expensive bicycle. You screw anything up and I will make you pay for it. But I seriously doubt you can afford one for yourself.  

I had already put a towel down on the floor for the seat to lay on. Guess he didnt bother looking before barking.

While Greg is standing in front of the tool box pulling every drawer open, I have already rolled the tire off the rim and located the leak. Steve walks back over with the kit. Without saying anything I stretch the inner tube tightly over the tire. Steve uses the scuffer lid and works it all around the puncture I pointed at.

I squirt a small amount of glue and spread it around the scuffed area with my finger. Steve has a precut round patch peeled back ready to stick down on the glued spot. I squeeze the patch down hard between my thumbs and fingers while stretching it and the tube together.

Less than a minute this tube is patched. Steve is already running his fingers around the inside of tire feeling for anything that might have poked thru and caused the flat. There is one long thorn he finds and pulls out. I take the thorn and put it in my tee-shirt pocket.

During the few short moments of this repair, Greg is still fumbling thru the bottom drawer full of wrenches. I asked if he found whatever he is looking for.

Back off rookie. Its my bike! You think I dont know what number wrench it is. It takes one with a 19 slash 32 on it. I figured you should have this one in these tools here somewhere. He is looking at the size stamped on each wrench picked up in his hand while I was watching.

Well, sure aint that 3/8 wrench you are holding there in your hand right now.

Hey I know what I am looking for. You think I dont know what number is on this? I was uh, just looking to see what brand these are.

Instead of picking up each wrench, now he is just staring down in the drawer. While he is still over there shuffling the tools around, I slip the tube back inside the tire and roll it on the wheel. Steve hands me the hose and I air the tire up.

Oh here it is, I found it! Just sitting way in back of the drawer. You must hardly ever use this one type. Maybe I better just fix the tire myself, if thats the case. He turns around and struts over while looking down at the newly found wrench in his hand. I had just flipped his bike over and now it is standing upright.

I hold out my hand and say, That will be one quarter please.

He looks up and sees the bike is ready to go. Not until you fix it man. I sure dont trust you now. You think just by putting air in the tire I will leave? No, it is getting a patch. I am not paying you for free air. It will be flat before I get more than a block away from here.

Its already fixed. I pull the thorn out of my pocket and hold it up real close to his face. Your tire is fine. The patch is on and you can go now.

There is no way its fixed. You didnt even take the wheel off. You think I am stupid or something. I think you are trying to cheat me. I otta kick your ass.

Fine, its still a free country. Think what you want. But if you are accusing me of cheating you, then leave right now and dont ever show your face around here again.

Steve is snickering and Greg just goes off with his mouth. I will kick both of your asses if this tire goes flat. I WILL be back if that happens. Like real soon. You better not be screwing with me.

By this time, I am done with this jerk. I dont care to ever see or talk to him again. I raise my voice much louder this time.

You are leaving right now, understand?

I will leave when I am damn good and ready. Got it bucky?

Wanna bet? I will bet you that your time is up right now. That means you are leaving.

I grab his bike, and point the handle bars straight ahead. Then take a few steps forward with the bike and push it out the garage door. It is now rolling by itself down the driveway and toward the street.

He immediately drops the wrench and starts running after his bike. You girls are dead! You hear me!. I better not ever catch you on the track either. I will take you out. Both you butt heads. Just like last time. Then he was gone. He was still yelling all kinds of threats and obscenities after hopping on the bike and rode off.

What the heck was that all about, Terry? I have never seen you go off on someone like this before. Man I was ready to kick his butt all the way to the street. I sure didnt expect you to pull off what you just did. That took some balls. Man I am impressed.

While Steve just kept mumbling on about whatever, I was zoned out for a moment. I was re-living some dark memories from my past. When both brothers would gang up and torment me to no end. I would go blindly mad and just want to kick their heads in.

My heart is pounding, my arms tensed and I was taking in shallow breaths. Even my ears were burning from the escalated blood pressure and adrenaline spike. I was trying to deal with it right then. Not having much luck in controlling tho.

If Greg would have actually started some crap with me or Steve, all of that pent up tension from the past would have unleashed a fury of rage. One that has been bottled up inside me meant for my older brothers for years. This would have been an extreme case of excessive force taken out on a jerk who might not have deserved all this anger at that moment. It would not been right ripping him apart like that for any reason. No matter how good it might have felt just then. It was the wrong thing to let happen. I almost lost it on him.

I should have not tried to fight fire with fire. Over the years I have learned to be more diplomatic when dealing with assholes like Greg just now. It is not worth the trouble or time wasted with losers like him. I stooped all the way down to his level which means I lost this fight. Because I let him get the best of me.

I had thought manning up instead of going off the deep end when my brothers used to torment made me stronger. Or was this just an excuse since I was too little and couldnt really do anything about it at the time. Not like physically, but mentally. I could control myself better instead of loosing it completely. Self control is one way to help from really loosing a fight. As in getting beat to a pulp. A person out of control is more likely to loose a fist fight.

Earth to Terry, EARTH TO TERRY! You in there somewhere? What just happened with you and him? Why did you even offer to fix his bike anyway. If it was me....Steve shut up! It wasnt you. I should not have done that. I let him get to me. He was trying to push me for some reason. I dont know why either. Something doesnt make sense right now. He had no reason to come in here and act that way.

Didnt you notice he was not focusing that anger on you. He had a reason and was trying to get under my skin. I want to know why. He is seriously messed up in the head. I would not want to live like that. He must be one miserable person. Completely filled with hate or anger about something. All this time my voice is raised while talking to Steve. I take a long breath and try to calm back down.

Hey Steve, I am really sorry man. I didnt mean to come down on you just now. Thanks for having my back. That makes me glad I got you as my best friend. But that guy managed to really get my blood boiling. He was trying to push me into a fight for some reason. I am not even sure it was me he was really mad at. But he was taking it out on me. For whatever reason. Something is seriously going on here, and I dont have a clue what it is.

So what do you think he meant about ever catching you or us on the track? Do you think he was being serious? Yea I do. He is mad at the world. I bet if anyone that takes the bait he will try to drill down on. Man I wonder what his problem is? That is so messed up.

Hey Terry, that is a nice looking bike he has. It looks almost brand new. Think he bought it? Or stole it?

It was his own bike, that I know. If it wasnt he would not have freaked out so much and running after it just then. No, something with that bike has to do with the way he was acting. Just dont know why or how it all fits together.


Schwinn Jaguar

Well, it just so happened while I was standing there watching Greg run after his bike, Steve managed to grab my camera and take a quick click of it rolling out of the garage and towards the street all by itself. It would have been priceless if he got Greg in there chasing behind it. A real Kodak moment. Take in a deep breath and exhale slowly. Picturing that in my head brought me back down to normal.