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Page 83 text:
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The Yamaha left the line as I grabbed for my clutch, and he shoved my handlebars around in a wide arc that resulted in my falling over and getting my right leg pinned under the rear wheel, while the throttle buried itself in the soft dirt - wide open. By the time I shut off the bike, my Lucky Racing Boot had been chewed away, exposing remnants of my Lucky Racing Sock and a skinned-up Lucky Racing Ankle. While I sat in the doorway of my van as a track official wrapped my foot in gauze, my cheering section walked up. Hi, bikey! Say, that was rare form on the starting line, all right! You're lucky you're still alive!', Well, I don't want to blame anyone in particular, BRUCE, but . . . They all had a good laugh. I spoke to the unknown young lady. And OF COURSE, your name MUST be Penny! 'QAbsolutely correct. And you, Tom, are the sorriest excuse for a motorcycle racer I've ever seen. Oh, please don't prejudge me so, Penny! Usually that doesn't happen until the second or third lap! I got to hob ble over to the bike and try to straighten the handlebars. But I turned to face her again. Are you artistic? She looked mildly surprised. Am I artistic?? she smiled. Do you paint or sculpt? Or photograph ? I paint a little, she fibbed. Why, do you?', No, I don't have any ability myself, AS YOU CAN SEE!!', She laughed. But I admire people who have talent. And I stopped right there, very curious about what would happen next. So do I, she said, smiling. Now let's get these bars straightened before your next race. So I bought her a hamburger with the works.
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Page 82 text:
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It was her turn. You incredible bastard! You unthinking, unfeeling, heartless, unimpressive, self-centered, clod son-of-a-bitch! YOU WORM! ! I was almost on the verge of tC2.1'S, partly from the pain and partly from the shock of what had happened. I concen- trated very intently on restraining myself. Ever since the first time you opened your mouth, you tumed me off. Ever since your first sermon, I've been una- ble to cultivate my interest in you as a person. Even though I wanted to. But you're a nothing! Two hundred minuses and no plusses! You couldnit even leave a bit of mystery over what kind of person you are. You couldn't let our relationship quietly reveal the facets of your personality. You couldn't make our friendship a series of stones weld overturn to find new secrets and revelations. No, from minute one, you came on like a landslide! 'Hi, I'm Tom Finne- gan, and here's what I think about everything in the worldl' GOD, what GALL! ! ! There was a strong stinging sensation around my nose, and I had to blink my eyes furiously as they glossed over. Warm blood trickled onto my lip. That sight slowed her down a little. She dabbed a Kleenex at the base of my nose. I'm probably as sorry as you are, Tom. I would never have believed that his could happen. But it may do us some good. It will certainly do YOU some good. It will help you to do it right next time? I could hear the plowing rush of my landlady coming across the yard as she hastened to catch all the gory details, and satisfy her misgivings about renting her studio to a non-church-going, motorcycle-riding, unmarried young man. Could you take me home now, please?,' The God damn Yamaha that had burst out across the line on a false start came back around and forced his way in between my Bultaco and the red Maico who had been only inches away from me to start with. I had a nasty vision of the three of us going down in a tangle of handlebars. I dreaded first-lap, first-turn mishaps, as I always pictured myself at the bottom of a twelve-foot pile of bikes and riders. Tom! said a voice which was totally drowned out by the horde of screaming two-strokes. My left hand barely touched my helmet as we all did likewise awaiting the start. Hey, Tom! My helmet was resting on the bars, for God's sake, so ready was I to grab the clutch lever and - Hey, FINNEGAN!!! Somehow I heard that, and looked across the Yamaha and the Maico to the fence, and instantly I spotted Bruce and his girl and a marvelous-looking, long-haired young lady. He was pointing to her and saying something I could not make out. Finally, he stopped, thrust his hand into his pocket, skimmed through his change and keys and held up a coin, a broad smile on his face. Oh? I thought.
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