"On
the Limit" Sample Chapter ("Canadian
Children's Book Centre Our Choice, 2007")
The next time I'm asked to be on TV, I'll try not to run over the host with my race car. As a rookie driver in the North American Formula Atlantic Championship, television exposure was a great chance to promote our young team and new sponsor DynaGrow Industries. I saw it as a golden opportunity to show off the shimmering dark green of our #34 Swift Formula Atlantic car, and to impress the viewers with just how professional we were. I'd rehearsed all of the correct pro race driver answers, polished my helmet and pressed my driving suit twice. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was wrong.
The Atlantic series organizers had decided to promote the Toronto street race by having some of the leading drivers appear on local TV shows during race week. As our team had nearly won the previous race in Milwaukee, we were picked. Along with our team manager Caroline Grant, I was scheduled to appear on the number one morning television breakfast show, "Wakeup Toronto!", from 6 to 9 AM. That meant that we had to get ourselves and the Swift to the station by 5 AM, wheel the car into the studio, go over the show's format, and wait until we were on. "Wakeup Toronto!" did the usual daily news, weather, sports and traffic updates as well as some features that they thought viewers would find interesting. We were scheduled to follow a guy who had built a medieval battering ram to demolish his garage, and two blue haired ladies who had taught their budgies to chirp along to a disco version of The Skater's Waltz . Some folks in Ontario seemed to have a lot of spare time.
The TV studio was large and had been converted from an old movie theater. The main set looked up at 30 rows of seats separated by a middle aisle. A 5:30 AM the doors opened and in rushed a live audience of 500 people who had actually lined up before dawn to get a seat. Like I said, lots of spare time. At quarter to 6, Caroline and I were introduced to the two hosts of the show, Brittany and Steve, who had been telling lame hockey jokes to the audience. Both in their mid twenties, they looked like a matched set of aerobics instructor dolls with perfect salon tans and brilliantly polished teeth.
Steve wore a loose fitting dark suit with a black shirt, a burgundy tie, and about half a quart of gel to preserve the spikes in his short blond hair. Brittany, who apparently had nicer legs than Steve, wore a short black dress, lots of silver and turquoise jewelry, and held back her mane of frizzy red hair with small plastic shark hairclips. They were both incredibly bubbly and upbeat, completely pumped with themselves as talk show hosts. Caroline was grinning and full of energy herself as she did the introductions.
"Steve and Brittany, I'm Caroline Grant, DynaGrow Motorsports Team Manager. Meet Eddie Stewart, the fastest rookie in the North American Formula Atlantic series."
I shook hands with Steve and put on my fast rookie smile. Brittany was instantly impressed. With the race car.
"I just love this car! It's like, you know, just so cool. I think, don't you Steve?"
"Brittany you are so right! Hey! Hold on! Idea! Idea Brittany!"
"Yes! Go Steve!" Brittany gasped.
"I know you're
gonna hate this, but what if Evelyn here--"
"Caroline. " I corrected him.
"Caroline! Right! Thanks Teddy."
"Eddie."
"Eddie! Sorry! OK, anyway, what if we push the race car into the audience, all the way up the center aisle, right to the top. Caroline climbs in, and here's the best part, then Eddie gives her a push and she rolls it right down the aisle and on to the set when we introduce them!"
Brittany clapped her hands with glee. "Yes! Steve, that would be so, like, you know, so--"
"Amazing?" Steve added helpfully.
"Amazing, yeah! Could you two, like, do that?"
I looked over at Caroline, she thought for a second and then nodded. We could, like, do that.
It took four of us to push the Swift up the center aisle, which was surprisingly steep. We parked it at the top and blocked the front wheels to stop it from rolling. Caroline and I were given seats up in the last row, and told to wait quietly until we were introduced in about two hours. I changed into my dark green driving suit to match Caroline's green and white team uniform. She had become unusually quiet, but the time passed quickly for me. I was fascinated with what the people on the crew were doing with cameras, lighting and direction which was much more interesting than anything Steve or Brittany had to say. The battering ram guy and the budgie ladies each had about 10 minutes, so I figured that we would get the same but the news ran long. Finally, they cut to commercials for two minutes at exactly 8:45AM. The floor director ran up the aisle, I helped Caroline slide down and into the Swift, and he showed her where to steer the car onto the set between Steve and Brittany's wicker chairs.
"Just coast it down to a stop in front of Steve. Piece of cake. You two ready?"
I nodded. Caroline stared.
"OK I'm heading back down. When I wave, that's your cue. Just let it roll on down. It'll be fun!"
I looked down at Caroline, artist, photographer and as of this summer, race team business manager. Normally she was game to take on anything. In her early twenties, Caroline was very fit, with long blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a fashion model smile. I'd known her since we were kids and like her older brother Rick, my best friend and our race team designer, she was confident and fiercely intelligent. But at that moment she did not look like someone about to have fun. She looked scared.
"Are you sure want to do this?" I asked. "It's a pretty steep slope."
She looked up at me and nodded once, but I didn't sense any of her usual confidence. I made sure that she had the brakes on, removed the blocks from the front of the car, grabbed my helmet and took up position behind the rear wing. We were ready for the grand entrance. They came back from commercial, Steve beamed into the camera and nailed our introduction.
"OK, to wrap up the morning, we've got a special treat. I think I feel the need...the need for speed! Am I right Brittany?"
"You are so right Steve. Me too! I've got, like, goosebumps already!"
"All right! Joining us live is the hottest young driver on the Formula Pacific circuit today and his Team Manager. They'll be ripping it up down at Exhibition Place this weekend. So come on Toronto, let's hear it for ....Teddy Stewart and Evelyn Grant!"
A red neon "Applause" sign lit up and the audience responded like trained seals, giving us a loud welcome as they turned in their seats to watch our grand entrance. My plan was to give Caroline a gentle push just to get her rolling, and then jog after the car with my helmet under my arm as it glided down the aisle. The floor director cued us with a wave and I pushed just enough on the Swift's rear wing to get it started. Nothing. I pushed again but still the car wouldn't move. The audience sat in silent anticipation as Steve and Brittany's painted smiles began to crack. The seconds ticked away, but I simply could not budge the car.
"Caroline!" I hissed.
"What?"
"Get your foot off the brakes!"
"I did! I'm pushing on something but I can't even see my feet! How do you drive this thing?"
"Just pull your knees up! Don't touch anything with your feet!"
I pushed, Caroline squirmed, but the Swift still refused to move an inch. I put my helmet down, planted my feet and really put my shoulder into it. For a moment the car remained stuck, and then four things happened almost instantly. Caroline twisted inside the cockpit, the brakes released, the car shot forward and I fell flat on my face. I looked up and watched helplessly as the Swift silently accelerated down the aisle, picking up alarming speed as it headed straight for our smiling hosts. I couldn't see Caroline but I knew that she was frozen behind the wheel. Brittany reacted quickly and sprang to the side to avoid the car. Steve was too slow. He just stood there like a post as Caroline and 1200 pounds of race car bore straight down on him.
There are times when you know in advance that all the laws of physics are going to come together perfectly so that something rare, and usually bad, will happen. You just know it. When I was a kid growing up in Vancouver, British Columbia I knew from the crack of the club and the vibration in my palms that the golf ball I had just driven was going to knock our neighbor's cat off their porch and into the rose bushes. And it did. Last Thanksgiving I knew as soon as I flicked that piece of creamed corn off the side of my dinner plate that it was going up Rick Grant's nose. And it did. This was one of those moments. There was no point in yelling at Caroline to find the brake pedal. No point in chasing after the runaway car. A rare, bad thing was going to happen. I knew that Caroline was going to run over Steve with our race car on live TV. And she did.
The Swift caught Steve just above the ankles with it's left front wheel. He went down hard on his back as the wheel climbed up his legs and waist, and the car finally came to a stop with the wheel resting on his chest. He tried to squirm free by pushing it backwards but by that time Caroline had at last found the brakes and it wouldn't move. I ran down the aisle and joined two cameramen as we lifted the front of the car up and Steve slid out from underneath. He sprang to his feet to wild applause, snapped his suit jacket straight, and flashed a wide grin. I think everyone in the audience figured we'd planned the whole thing. Caroline sat stunned and motionless in the Swift, her face the color of cold oatmeal under the bright studio lights.
"Whoa, Teddy this is one fast car!"
"And it's such a cool shade of green. Totally!" Brittany gushed.
"Yes, Steve it's fast." I replied. "And it's Eddie. Eddie Stewart. The paint work was designed by Caroline. Caroline Grant."
I didn't want to embarrass the guy, but at least he could get the names right. Steve flashed his grin, as we stood behind the rear wing of the car and faced the camera.
"No problemo Eddie my man! Now, let's see how our driver's doing in there, Brittany."
Brittany was kneeling next to the car so that she could talk with Caroline, who was staring blankly straight into the camera. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming gravel truck.
"OK Steve, here I am with DynaGrow Team Manager Caroline Grant. Isn't it, like, totally amazing to have, you know, a woman as a race team manager?"
Caroline stared straight ahead, unblinking, and slowly said, "Yes.... Amazing."
Steve jumped in.
"Let's just pull up our chairs and talk speed! Now, Eddie tell us about this bad boy."
"Well, the car is called a Swift. It's a Formula Atlantic chassis, handmade in California. It has a Toyota Twin cam racing engine that makes about 240 horsepower, and a 5 speed gearbox. From a standstill it will reach 60 in about 3 seconds. On the Exhibition Place street course this weekend we'll top out around 160."
Steve furrowed his brow in concentration, listening intently and nodding in understanding as I spoke. Then he turned and looked me straight in the eye. Time for serious race car questions.
"Now, I'm wondering....How fast will this car go?"
I paused for a moment, wondering if English was his second language.
"It will go 160
Steve."
"Man! 160? Miles per hour?"
"Yes, miles per hour."
Steve was impressed. "Wow!" That's like--"
"256 kilometres per hour!" Brittany interrupted. The camera panned across the car with Caroline in the seat frozen like a wax model.
"So Eddie how many, like, gears does it have?"
"Five Brittany. And one in reverse."
"Cool! Just like your Beemer Steve!"
Steve the BMW expert nodded.
"Yes, and you know Britt, technically that's what racers call a '5 speed gearbox'."
Steve made quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he said '5 speed gearbox', so that there would be no doubt that this was engineering talk. He pointed to the engine cover.
"Now what's under the hood of old #34 here?"
We'd been here before about 15 seconds ago. At least I had.
"It's a Toyota Twin cam racing engine. It makes about 240 horsepower." I repeated.
"Whoa, 240 horses! I'll bet that would get you up to 60 pretty fast!"
"In about 3 seconds Steve." I said flatly.
Over to Brittany.
"So, Eddie where do you drive it? To the mall? Like, no way!"
"No, not to the mall. We're racing downtown at Exhibition Place. Here in Toronto. This weekend." I said slowly and clearly.
Steve had received a hand signal from the floor director which I caught out of the corner of my eye. Time was short and he wanted Steve to wrap it up quickly.
"All right! Exhibition Place this weekend. I'm there baby! We're out of time, but I want to thank Teddie and Evelyn from the DynaMow Racing Team for joining us this morning. Go get 'em you two! So, until tomorrow, I'm Steve..."
Brittany leaned into the shot.
"And I'm Brittany!"
I barely resisted the temptation to lean in and say 'And I'm not Teddy!'.
"And we'll see
you tomorrow on Wakeup Toronto! Bye bye now!" Brittany closed.
Steve and Brittany grinned and waved as the theme music came up and the
audience applauded wildly. I put on a crooked smile while Caroline sat
rock solid in the car, a blond statue in the glare of the set lights.
"And we're clear!" yelled the floor director as the lights dimmed.
I stood up, helped Caroline out and sat her down. One of the studio crew brought her a glass of water. She was slowly coming around as Steve rushed off, but Brittany unclipped her mike and sat down next to us.
"Thanks you two, that was....interesting. Caroline will get over it in a few minutes I suspect. Stage fright is not uncommon in amateurs. The lights and the cameras can tend to promote rapid cognitive overload resulting in a temporary, although quite harmless, state of disorientation."
Who was this speaking? Brittany's brilliant twin sister? She got up to leave, but stopped and smiled as she caught the expression of disbelief on my face and read my mind.
"Don't believe everything you see on TV. Better to stick with reality. And good luck on Sunday."
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"On the Limit" is a Canadian Children's Book Centre Our Choice Selection for 2007
© Anthony Hampshire,
all rights reserved