DBD, Chapter One

 The wind kicked up, miserably dry and hot. The flowers seemed to droop even lower and Sally sighed as she emptied the contents of a battered watering can into the window box. The breeze blew against her, splattering her face with water and dust. Letting the empty can fall to the ground, she kicked it with a frustrated grunt and wiped the grime from her face with the back of her hand. 

A cheerful “Mornin’, Miss Sally!” put a smile on her face and she turned from the flowers to wave across the street. A man in patched overalls and a battered ball-cap, cocked sideways on his head, stood leaning against the crooked signpost that marked the entrance of his business: Tom Mater, Towing and Salvage. “Got news fer ya! Picked someone up las’ night!”

“Customers?” Sally cried hopefully, her eyes lighting up. “Why didn’t you send them over? Didn’t they need a place to stay?”

“Nah,” Mater shrugged and leaned sideways to spit in the grass. “They was lost. Ran outta gas back up a ways,” he nodded over his shoulder at the dilapidated road that led far off into an empty distance and vanished over the horizon. “Got ‘em filled up an’ gave ‘em directions to th’ interstate. They might come back tho,” he added wistfully and Sally smiled sadly at him. 

“The only people who ever come our way nowadays are either lost or crazy,”  

“Or maybe they’re both,” Mater grinned, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth. “Hey, wanna go up t’ Flo’s fer donuts? Business is kinda slow, ain’t it?”

“Thanks,” Sally sighed. “But no thanks. Maybe later. I’ve got some paperwork to do…” she turned back into the little office of her Cozy Corner motel as Mater shouted something about bringing her a donut. She really didn’t have anything to do, but she liked feeling like she was busy. And it never hurt to be waiting and prepared, in case a rare customer did come along and want a place to stay…

She shuffled through her neat stacks of paperwork, picked up a worn, dog-eared novel, turned it over in her hands a few times, and tossed it aside. Too quiet. The almost-imperceptible hum of the electric lights and soft whirring of the fan were starting to drive her crazy. A fly was buzzing over the window, intensifying the silence with the high-pitched whine of its wings. Automatically, she reached for the remote and switched on the TV. As the nasal tones of a newscaster filled the little office, she rummaged again through the carefully-filed papers and contemplated idly the possibility of going downtown.

“Going downtown” simply meant walking down the one main street of Desert Springs and then turning to walk back again because there really was nothing to do. The drive-in movie theater had closed months ago and there would be no customers in any of the shops. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as she pictured each occupant of the town and exactly what they would be doing at that moment Sarge would be puttering around with ancient contraptions at the surplus store and Lizzie would be rocking back and forth in the squeaky rocking chair on the front porch of her curio shop. Luigi and Guido would be lounging around the garage into which a car had not driven in… well… everyone had lost track of how long it had been. Red would, of course, be digging around in the garden back of the fire station. He had a beautiful garden, and he seemed to know everything there was to know about growing things… but it was hard getting him to talk. 

Sally leaned forward, reaching for the novel. She bumped the remote and it slid off the side of her desk, landing face-down on the floor. The channel abruptly changed, and a rather annoying female voice began speaking on the merits of UltraWhite Toothpaste.

“Almost lunchtime,” Sally muttered to herself, glancing at the clock above the door. “Guess I’ll go to Flo’s and have some lunch, and then maybe…” she let her sentence trail off. The TV had been droning on all this while but now it seemed suddenly to crackle into vivid life. Swiveling her chair towards the screen, she caught sight of brightly-colored cars racing at break-neck speed down a track. 

“Crazy daredevils,” Sally raised an eyebrow at the screen as a neon orange car spun out of control and crashed on the side of the track. She was mildly annoyed at the whole concept of racing in general, but she didn’t look away from the screen. It was, after all, the most exciting thing she had seen all day.

“Right you are, Darrell,” an announcer was saying. “Three drivers are tied for the season points lead, heading into the final race of the season. And the winner of this race will win the season title and the Piston Cup. Does the King, Stan Weathers, have one more victory in him before retirement?”

“He’s been Dinoco’s golden boy for years!” the second announcer shot back, enthusiastically. The screen flashed a picture of a middle-aged man, his hair gone mostly gray, posing in front of a light-blue race car with the word “Dinoco” proudly stamped on the side. “Can he win them one last Piston Cup?”

“And as always,” continued the first announcer. “In the second place spot we find Chick Hicks. He’s been chasing that tailfin his entire career.” Another flash, this picture of a slightly-younger man with a thick black mustache that Sally privately thought very unflattering. His color was a rather obnoxious shade of bright green. Repulsive, Sally thought, and shuddered. She didn’t like the look in the driver’s eyes. 

“Chick thought this was his year, Bob” the TV went on, a note of suspense lacing the announcer’s voice. “His chance to finally emerge from The King’s shadow. But the last thing he expected was… Lightning McQueen!” A third picture went up on the screen. Sally sat up and took notice. This driver, tall and blond and blue-eyed, was much younger than the other two. He posed beside a red car decorated with a bold flash of golden lightning on the side. 

“Now that’s style,” Sally grinned. “So much for Mr. Putrid Green. Get ‘im, Lightning!” 

“Y’know,” the announcer was saying. “I don’t think anybody expected this. The rookie sensation came into the season unknown. But everyone knows him now. Will he be the first rookie to win a Piston Cup and land Dinoco? The legend, the runner up, and the rookie! Three drivers, one champion!”

“My vote for the rookie,” Sally said to the TV, which didn’t respond. Leaning back in her chair, she watched as the cars barreled wildly over the race track. First the light blue was in front, then the green overtook him… she stuck her tongue out at the green… and then the red was in front and she cheered along with the crowd. She was so caught up in the race, she almost felt like she was there. 

The green sideswiped Lightning’s car suddenly and Sally gasped. The red car slid sideways off the track into the infield, spun around madly, and roared back onto the track. Cars had piled up in droves as a result of Chick Hicks’ reckless move and the other competitors were quickly taken out in a thirty-car pile-up. Lightning forced his car through the wreckage, dodging flying tires and stalled cars recklessly. One car had rolled to the side and come to a stop on its roof, wheels spinning in the air. What exactly was happening, Sally wasn’t quite sure, but for a second or two, the red car seemed to be airborne.

“He’s crazy,” Sally muttered, raising her eyebrows higher. She admired grit, but this was sheer stupidity. The crowd seemed to have different ideas. They were chanting with one voice, as if they had all gone mad… “McQueen! McQueen! McQueen!”

They were coming into the final laps now. Lightning had skipped the last pit stop and his car seemed almost wobbly on its tires. He stopped finally for a rapid fuel-up, refusing a tire change, as the announcer informed the viewers that Lightning had fired three crew chiefs in one year and had made a habit of this reckless refusal to take care of his car during races. So far it had worked for him, but…

And even as the announcer spoke and the checkered flag was held raised over the finish line, Lightning’s rear left tire blew out. The crowd screamed as the red car came to a screeching halt, precious moments ticking away as Lightning began to lose the incredible lead he had gained. Surely he would drop out of the race now…? But with one turn to go, the red car roared ahead, veering crazily over the track as it leaned to one side. One hundred feet away from the finish line and still in the lead… and the second rear tire blew out. More screaming… and still the red car did not stop. It screeched and scraped desperately over the finish line at the last moment, sparks flying, exactly even with the Dinoco champion and the awful green car. 

“Well.” Sally had been leaning forward in her chair, but sat back again with a thump and let out a long breath. “That was… something.” She wasn’t sure what exactly she thought of the flashy young racer now. A bit stupid, wasn’t he? The announcers were yelling wildly about a three-way tie as the camera cut to Lightning stepping out of his damaged car and yanking off his helmet. He was instantly mobbed by reporters.

“This is Kori Turbowitz, and we’re here in Victory Lane, awaiting the race results,” a female reporter spoke enthusiastically as she turned to the young racer. “Lightning, that was quite a risky move, not taking tires. Are you sorry you didn’t have a crew chief out there?”

Lightning only laughed, tossing his head carelessly.

“Oh, Kori,” he spoke patronizingly. “There’s a lot more to racing than just winning. I mean, taking the race by a full lap, where’s the entertainment in that? No, no… I wanted to give folks a little sizzle.”

“Sizzle?” Kori raised an eyebrow. 

“Am I sorry I don’t have a crew chief?” Lightning went on, grinning arrogantly at the camera. “No, I’m not. Cause I’m a one-man show.” Kori shook her head and turned back to the cameras.

“That was a very confident Lightning McQueen. Coming to you live from Victory Lane, I’m Kori Turbowitz.”

“And I have seen enough,” Sally muttered, hitting the power button on the TV remote. “Sorry I cheered, that guy isn’t worth it.” And shaking her head to clear it, she scooped up her purse and left her silent office behind for the equally-silent main street.