Three Furs, One House
#2 of Three Furs, One House
Three Furs, One House: Chapter 2 - Racing in Harbor City / The Chevelle
"HOLY SHIIIT!"
I laughed and pressed down on the accelerator pedal even more. Over in the passenger seat, I could see Charlie's eyes bug out as our car raced towards the rapidly approaching corner.
I looked over at him and held my gaze as the car accelerated more.
He glanced over at me and when he saw me not watching the road, he flipped out.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Watch the road!"
I kept my gaze without saying a word. My lack of a response made him even crazier. I saw his paw lunge for the wheel and I swatted it away.
My eyes flicked to the side view mirror and when I saw that I was at the right distance from the corner, my right footpaw jumped from the gas to the brakes, pushing the pedal down almost hard enough to lock the wheels up.
Were it not for our five point racing harnesses, we would have both been thrown into the dashboard by the force of the deceleration. The carbon ceramic, cross drilled and ventilated brake rotors and calipers bit down hard, glowing cherry red from the friction.
I twisted the wheel and the car ripped sideways towards the apex. The tires squealed from the abuse.
I hit the gas at the exit of the corner, the engine howling.
Charlie panted heavily as I slowed for the entrance to pit road. The brakes bled off our speed until we were doing the required pit road speed of fifty miles per hour. I laughed at his reaction to my driving.
"Now do you see why I love this so much?" I asked.
"Yeah..." he panted. "How the fuck do you do this for four and a half hours every week?"
I shrugged. Charlie was a rocker, pure and simple. He loved cars, but this was something else entirely.
I braked at my pit box and slipped the transmission into neutral and held the brakes. Charlie fumbled with his harness for a second or two before I took pity on him and hit the quick release. The belts sprang open and he scrambled from the car.
'What the hell,' I thought, and applied the handbrake before getting out myself.
"You're a mad dog, you know that, right?" James called to me. He'd gone before Charlie, and was smoking a cigarette while leaning up against the door of one of the backup cars. I had four of them in the garage, just in case something major broke during practice or I crashed one.
"Yeah, I know it, but you love me anyway," I joked.
"Ricky? Come over here a second, will ya?"
That was my crew chief, Swiff. He also pulled duty as Wolfpack Motorsports's technical advisor and my roommate.
Swiff was a cheetah with bright orange fur and silver and black spots. Even from a dozen yards away, I could see the telltale signs of his agitation from the way his long sinuous tail twitched back and forth.
"What's up, man?" I said, stepping over to him.
"Are you sure that was a smart idea?" he said, getting right to the point. Swiff wasn't one to bandy about with words.
"Doing what, exactly?"
"Taking them out on the track in our car. What if you'd crashed?"
I sighed.
"Swiff, sometimes you need to relax. You know as well as I do that I wasn't pushing the car or the rubber like I would in a race. Check the telemetry."
"Still, things can go wrong."
"But nothing did," I said, punching him in the shoulder playfully. "Everything's fine, and I'm sure I might have just gotten us a new sponsor with that."
"You really think Charlie and Chaos Theory are going to sponsor our sorry-ass team?"
"Me and him made a deal. If he enjoyed the ride along, he'd get the band to go along with it."
Swiff rubbed his muzzle with a paw, and mulled this over.
I left his side without saying a word, rejoining Charlie, James, and Alex outside on pit road. The three of them were smoking and chatting as I approached.
I ran my paw over Alex's shoulder, slipping between him and Charlie.
"What'd you guys think of that?" I asked, pulling a pack of Maverick cigarettes out of my pocket and lighting one up.
"It was pretty badass, but I still think you're fucking insane for doing that on a regular basis," said James. I could see him shaking his head slightly.
Charlie had noticed as well, and he wrapped his arm around his mate. The rings on their fingers gleamed in the sun.
"That was absolutely amazing," commented Alex. I could see the look in his eyes that told me that his adrenaline was still roaring strong.
"You up for another go?" I asked him.
* * *
Less than two minutes later, Alex and I were strapped back into the Maserati. Once again, my eyes flicked over the gauges.
"You're all green. Let's rock."
Alex grinned. "How do I put it in gear?"
"Right paddle. Pull it once."
He did so and the engine barked.
"Alright, this thing hasn't got a clutch, so when you need to shift up, keep your paw down and just pull. Same for downshifting. Brakes, paddle, good to go."
He nodded, and I saw his right leg tense up slightly as he applied pressure to the pedal.
With a slight growl from the V8, the car pulled slowly from the pit box and down pit road.
"Keep your speed down here. Fifty miles per is the limit."
He did as I instructed, and as we approached the end of pit lane, I saw his paws clench tighter on the wheel. I waited until the front wheels hit the line before speaking.
"Punch it!" I barked.
His footpaw went to the floor. The car picked up speed rapidly, accompanied by a sharp crackle from the exhaust every time he shifted up. It felt weird to be in the passenger seat in my own car.
"Start braking," I told him as we approached the corner.
The engine RPM dived as he got off the gas. The nose of the car dipped and our speed bled off quickly.
"Downshift twice and dive in, NOW!"
The exhaust snapped twice and Alex cranked the wheel hard to the left. The car rode as though it was on rails, diving for the apex of the corner. Alex was flung sideways in the seat, held in place only by the racing harness. He transferred his paw to the gas and pressed it down about halfway.
With the howl of tire squeal, the back end of the car kicked out. I saw Alex's eyes bug out as the car started to slide sideways through the corner.
"Countersteer!" I shouted.
Alex's paws let go of the wheel, letting it spin the other way. He gave it opposite lock, but by then it was too late.
The car lost all traction and spun out at the exit of the corner, squealing to a halt in the center of a huge cloud of tire smoke.
Alex panted hard, as did I. It had been a while since I was in a car that was spinning out like that, and I didn't much care for the sensation that my guts were about to be splattered across the dashboard.
"Okay, I think just take it slow... Head back for the pits..." I panted.
We trundled around the rest of the four and a half mile road course in sixth gear, barely touching seventy.
We pulled into my pit box and I yanked up the handbrake before undoing my harness and climbing from the car. My neon paws were shaking slightly as I pulled a smoke from my pack and lit it, taking a deep, shuddering breath of the smoke.
"Sorry about that..." Alex murmured. His ears were folded back with embarrassment and humiliation.
"Don't worry about it," I said, crouching down to look at the tires. Alex had locked the wheels during the spin and the rubber had developed a flat spot a couple inches across their surfaces.
"Flat spots?" Swiff asked angrily.
"Yeah, small ones."
"You see what you've done?" he said, rounding on Alex. "Do you know how much those tires are?!"
"OI!" I shouted, standing up and throwing my smoke away. "Swiff, shut the fuck up."
"But-"
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Swiff closed his muzzle quickly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Charlie and James inching away from us. They busied themselves with cigarettes and tried not to listen.
"Alex didn't mean to. This kind of thing happens. So get the fuck over it or find somewhere else to sleep tonight." Did I forget to mention that he's my roommate?
"Alright..." he said, getting down on all fours himself to examine the tires.
"Take care of it," I said over my shoulder, leading Alex and the others away from the garage.
Swiff shouted some reply, but it was lost in the rumble of the Maserati's engine.
We regrouped by James's Chevelle. As I looked at the striking body of the car, a thought struck me. I waved to Charlie to come talk to me, and settled myself a suitable distance from the car so that no one would eavesdrop.
"What's up, bro?" he asked once he'd reached me.
"When is your guys's anniversary?" I asked, just to be sure.
"Not for a couple months, why?"
"Has James been complaining about the car recently?"
Charlie shrugged his shoulders and scratched his jaw in thought. "A few times... That it goes through gas and breaks down every other time we try to start it nowadays..."
I smiled.
"I've got an idea."
Charlie groaned at the look on my face. He'd seen that look before.
I laid out the idea for him. A week before the anniversary, he would pretend to go out for something, and bring me the car. When he got home, he'd tell James that he'd been forced to put it in a shop to get fixed. While I had it, I'd upgrade it in just about every way possible. Supercharger, weight reduction, tires, suspension, the works.
Then, on the day of the anniversary, he'd come back and get it and show James what Wolfpack Motorsports had done to it.
His tail wagged excitedly as he considered the plan.
"What exactly are you hoping to get from it?" he asked me.
"I don't want anything out of it. I just thought that James might appreciate a badass modified car like that."
Charlie shrugged. "I'm cool with that."
I grinned. He was gonna love it!
The two of us rejoined the others. Alex was admiring the car, and James was leaning on the front bumper smoking.
"Hey, James!" I called.
"Yeah?"
"How much to take this thing off your hands?"
"Ha!" he laughed. "It's not for sale. It's got sentimental value."
"Alex, can you bring me the socket wrench please?" I called from underneath my car. My street car.
I rolled my creeper out from under the chassis and collected the wrench from Alex with a smile and a kiss.
I probably ought to tell you about how that came to be, but I can't be bothered right now... Maybe later...
I rolled back under the jacked up vehicle and slotted the wrench onto one of the bolts that held on the rear anti-roll bars. The bolt was slightly stuck from disuse, but with a hefty bit of force, I popped it loose. I slid sideways and undid the other bolts, removing the bar and setting it aside.
A horn honked a few yards away.
I grinned, sliding out from under the car and regaining my footpaws. It was Charlie.
I glanced at my watch. Twelve forty.
"Charlie..." I said warmly, embracing the fellow shepherd.
"Ricky, thanks a lot, man. This really means a lot to me. I should warn ya though, the engine light came on when I was coming here."
I rolled my eyes. That wasn't going to be a big issue.
He tossed me the keys, which I caught in one paw.
"You got a ride back?" I asked him.
"Nah, I can just hoof it. It ain't far."
I reached into my pocket and fished out my other set of keys. The keys to my Jeep. I threw them in an underhanded toss and he snatched them out of the air, almost without thinking.
"You want me to take that?" he asked, pointing at the Maserati.
"Nah, not that..." I said. "That." I pointed behind him at the matte black two door Jeep Wrangler Rubicon parked right outside.
His jaw dropped almost to the floor. The Jeep was an astounding example of offroad prowess, with huge 36 inch tires, black rims, a winch, lights all over the damn thing, and a seven hundred horsepower V8 under the bonnet.
"You want me to take that?" he asked again.
"Hell yeah. I'm taking your Chevelle, which is worth twice or three times as much as that Jeep. Have fun, dude."
Charlie whooped as he jogged over to the huge Jeep. I couldn't help but smirk as he tried unsuccessfully to climb up into the truck.
"How the fuck do I get in the damn thing?!"
"Right paw on the inside of the rim, then left on the chassis, then up."
He tried it out and was rewarded with the drivers seat. I saw him laugh from my spot on the ground and I jumped as the engine fired up. It was a deep bass rumble more befitting that of a '69 Charger or a '70's Challenger.
With a wave, Charlie took off.
I rolled the Chevelle into my garage and up onto one of the lifts. From the underside, it looked like it was dripping something. I pulled on a pair of mechanics gloves and touched one of the spots. Oil.
Before I could get to the fun part of building James the greatest Chevelle in history, I had to fix that, and any of the other minor issues.
* * *
Two hours later, the car was back in mechanically sound condition.
Exhausted, I dropped the wrench I was holding. It fell to the ground with a clang, making Alex jump.
"What was that?" he said.
"Just the wrench," I laughed. He sulked, ears folding flat on his head.
"Come here, hon." I opened my arms and he stepped into them. My arms closed around him, hugging him close. His muzzle buried itself into my neck, making my fur flutter.
"Mmm..."
"You ready to get something to eat?"