Saturday August 19, 2000
North Marion Speedway
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:38 PM Local Time
It was a hot muggy night in Indianapolis, the thunderstorms that had been predicted for the evening swinging to the north, to where they were merely flashes on the horizon- a good thing, considering that the action on the track at the North Marion Speedway this evening had been far stormier than any thunderhead could have possibly been. For the two thousand odd fans in attendance, it had been quite a show- only the third of five feature races was just about over, and already six red flags had stopped the action due to accidents, including one in the Hornet division that had sent a pinto flipping over in the third turn.
Wendy Briese bit her lower lip as she watched the blood red number thirty eight Charger that her boyfriend drove. It sat idly across the start finish line, beneath the red flag held out over the track by the flagstand. It was definitely a good situation for Terrence to be in- in the lead with two laps to go, at least once the last accident was finally finished being cleaned up, as workers finished sweeping oil dry off the track. She smiled in anticipation, not just of Terrence’s imminent win, but of their customary post-race trip to Coldstone Creamery once the event was over.
Even though she had known he would ask her when she agreed to date him, she had been reluctant to attend his races at first. The stories Terrence had told her indicated that Saturday Night Short Tracks were generally rowdy affairs, with beer flowing freely in the grandstands, along with the mixed aromas of fried food, cigarette smoke, and gasoline. Wendy couldn’t imagine taking part in anything that... unsophisticated. But after Terrence had showed up to every single one of her performances of Guys and Dolls without fail, she couldn’t justify refusing.
To her surprise, she had actually enjoyed it. She doubted she’d go out of her way to watch the sport if Terrence wasn’t participating, but it was interesting enough. And she was surprised to see that the self-assured boy at the auto shop wasn’t just full of hot air. Terrence was actually pretty good at this. He had won her first night attending, and had even insisted that Wendy pose with him in his victory photos, declaring her his lucky charm. And while he didn’t win EVERY time, she still enjoyed getting to watch him drive, and their trips out to dinner before and ice cream after the races as well.
Heck, she just flat out enjoyed spending time with Terrence. Considering how tighly controlling her father and most of her teachers had been, to know someone so laid-back had been almost uncomfortable at first. But the more she got used to Terrence’s attitude, the more she came to respect it, and even be jealous of how little external pressure seemed to be on him. It wasn’t that Terrence was an underachiever or a slacker, he just simply did things his own way, and the list of people who’s opinions he cared about was short indeed.
Obviously, while Wendy’s name was on the list, her parent’s weren’t. That was probably a good thing, considering that Gus and Gayle ranked Terrence as the dating scale equivalent of eating at a truck stop. It seemed like not a day would go by where her dad wouldn’t fire some reminder out that Terrence just simply wasn’t good enough for her, to the point that she would fire back with a reminder of her own that she was nineteen now, and perfectly capable of choosing her boyfriend. Still, it almost did give her a sense of satisfaction that it annoyed her father, although she couldn’t really describe it. She supposed it was her own little version of a rebellion.
A flash of yellow cloth caught her eye, and Wendy looked up, breaking from her thoughts. The cars on the track were re-starting their engines, rolling away slowly as the caution resumed, the track having been deemed safe to race again. The flagman was holding two fingers up two laps- laps that wouldn’t be counted toward the final total- until the green would wave again. And then it would be two more laps around the mid-banked half-mile in a mad scramble to the finish.
As the cars reformed up two across, Wendy watched the second place car, a black Buick who’s driver she didn’t know, pull up outside Terrence’s car, the rest of the field bunching up behind them as Terrence led the cars under the furled green flag pointed straight in the air, the signal with one to go. Terrence held it slow through one more lap, then gunned it as the flagman unleashed the green flag over the field. He took the lead into turn one, the Buick caught on the outside in a worse lane, falling steadily back, and having no choice but to fall in as Terrence zoomed onto the backstretch. They were nose-to-tail all the way through three and four, onto the front stretch, under the waving white flag.
The Buick waited until the backstretch to make its move, before sliding to the inside, trying to get a nose under Terrence to force him up onto the turn. The gambit succeeded- Terrence was forced into the high lane, and Wendy gasped, thinking the race lost. But the Buick had come in too hot, and couldn’t hold the low-line, wobbling once, then spinning towards the infield. Frantically struggling to keep control, the black car overcorrected, and shot up the track, right into Terrence with a loud bang. Terrence lost control, sliding up the track and ramming hard into the wall, spinning after impact as the Buick crossed the finish line to the crowd’s cheers.
Terrence, meanwhile, was still out of control, and the rest of the cards were frantically trying to avoid him. Wendy winced as the third place car smacked his rear quarterpanel, spinning him around, right into the path of the fifth and sixth place cars, the latter smacking the wall in a desperate attempt to avoid Terrence, while the former, barely missed him. Finally, the pack of cars slid by. Wendy breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Terrence moving in the car, angrily trying to restart the engine. It flared up, and the tires squealed as Terrence spun the car right, roaring across the finish line in a disappointing fifteenth.
Already she could tell her boyfriend was angry, just by the abrupt way he was driving the car. He wasn’t smoothly rolling, but lurching then braking as he joined the line of cars leaving the track. All except the Buick, who had returned to the front stretch the crowd cheering the wild finish to the race as it parked itself right across the start finish line. Terrence’s car suddenly pulled out of line, speeding up down the backstretch and into the turn.
Wendy groaned. As laid-back as Terrence was most the time, he did have a temper, and was quite passionate about the things in life he did care about. He had never so much as even raised his voice at her, but this wasn’t the first time she had seen him confront another driver after a race. Terrence wasn’t one to take being taken out lightly, and it frightened her when he got confrontational like this. Wendy wasn’t good with confrontations.
But exasperation was quickly being replaced by a feeling of dread. Something wasn’t right about this. It took a never second of seconds to realize what it was- Terrence was going too fast. There was no way he would be able to stop-
*CRUNCH*
Wendy shrieked as her boyfriend’s car slammed into the Buick, caving in the passenger side, and violently rattling the driver, who had just finished unbuckling. She could hear the crowd around her gasping as Terrence popped the car into reverse, backing up about twenty feet, then throwing it into drive, and ramming the Buick again. A cloud of white steam burst from Terrence’s car- the second impact had obviously knocked out the radiator.
Track officials had been too stunned to do anything, and only now started to move as Terrence furiously climbed out of the car, taking off his helmet and throwing it back inside. He ran to the buick, reaching into the driver’s side window, and throwing two big haymakers at the obviously stunned driver. He then grabbed the driver, and began trying to haul him out the window, still firing blows to the head and neck, not even concerned that the other driver was still wearing a helmet.
“TERRY! STOP!” Wendy screamed, although she was hardly the only one in the grandstand making noise. Several of the fans were cheering the fight, although several more were obviously outraged over the violence. Terrence was trying to take off the Buick driver’s helmet, but finally track security caught up to him, roughly dragging him away. Furious, Terrence kicked out at the driver, catching him in the head. Even with the helmet, the force of the blow was enough so that the driver suddenly went limp, hanging halfway out the window of his car, as Terrence was tackled by the officials. More officials gathered around the other driver, trying to safely remove him the rest of the way from the car, and revive the unfortunate man.
Back in the stands, Wendy had her hand over her mouth, and tears were leaking down her cheeks. “Oh my God,” she repeated, her mouth open in continued shock.
What on Earth had gotten into her boyfriend?
==================
Wednesday August 23, 2000
Briese Household- Kitchen
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:34 PM Local Time
“WENDY! PHONE!”
“I’m here! I’m sorry!” Wendy Briese apologized as she burst into the kitchen, slightly out of breath from having just run down the stairs. She grinned at her mother, although only was met with an exasperated glare. “Who is it?”
“It’s HIM,” Gayle replied simply, her eyes still narrow. “You should break it off with him. Now”
“Mom, no.” Wendy insisted as she grabbed the cordless set. She paused for just a second. The only time she had seen Terrence after the incident at the track was when he had driven her home, and that entire drive had been done in silence, save for a half-hearted “good night” from her boyfriend after they’d arrived. She tried calling him a couple times, but had gotten the distinct impression that Terrence was avoiding her. It was irritating- they had a lot to talk about- but at the same time, she could understand why they were conversations that were best avoided.
Finally, she put the phone to her ear. “Terry?”
The voice on the other end was dry, cracked, and full of misery. “Hey Wendy. How you’ve been?”
“I’m fine,” Wendy replied, although she was certainly concerned over how empty Terrence’s voice sounded. “What’s going on?”
“I had my hearing today at the track. You know, from that.”
“Oh, yeah,” Wendy tried to keep her voice light, but she could already tell it wasn’t good from the tone of his voice. “How’d did it go?”
There was a long pause, and for a second, Wendy thought the call had dropped. But Terrence’s voice finally came, sounding on the verge of tears. “I’ve been blacklisted.”
“WHAT? BLACKLISTED?!” Wendy exclaimed, immediately regretting it. Her piercing voice was the LAST thing he needed to hear right now. “But it wasn’t THAT bad! They shouldn’t have...”
“No, it was the right call,” Terrence replied bitterly. “I went over the line, hon. Not only was it bad sportsmanship, it was dangerous. I could have killed that guy, and as it is, I gave him a concussion. They’re not going to stand for that. Nor should they.”
Wendy looked over at her mother. Her outburst had another consequence- her mother knew everything, and she wasn’t even trying to hide the self-satisfied smirk that was splayed across her face. She turned away, lowering her voice. “Did you want to have dinner? We could talk about it then. Or something, I really want to see..”
“No...” Terrence cut her off. “I don’t.. I just want to be alone right now, okay Wendy? I’m sorry. I know you’re worried, and I know it’s my fault. But I just need some time.”
“Some time? How much time? What are you going to do?” Wendy’s concern was turning into a panic at the defeated voice, and his reluctance to see her.
“I... I don’t know. I’ve just been having these anger flashes. Steve thinks I should talk to someone, get some help. I don’t know. I gotta go, Wendy. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Terry, wait, don’t!”
The line went dead.
Wendy sighed, turning towards the kitchen counter and heavily setting the phone down in the charger. Slowly, she glanced to her side, and saw the expression on her mother’s face, already finding her nerves grating. The mask of pity was barely containing the insufferable glee her parents were now doubt feeling over this.
“Is it over? Did he break up with you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, mom.” Wendy snapped, although a tiny part of her wondered if that wasn’t indeed the case. Terrence’s reluctance to talk to her was concerning.
“Well, I think it’s time you thought about moving on, Wendy”, Gayle replied. “There are so many, more upstanding boys that you could...”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Mom. Not tonight,” Wendy stated.
“But I was just thinking, though, Wendy. You know the Billingsly’s? The ones who own that oil refinery out by the highway? They were just telling me that their son hasn’t found a date yet to their gala fundraiser on Sunday. I’m sure you’d be...”
“Mom, I’m serious. Drop it. I’m not going out with anyone but Terrence.”
“But I’m worried about that, as any good mother should be! You saw what he did to that poor boy at the race track. Everyone did, it was on the evening news. He obviously can’t control his temper. What if that’s you next?”
“Terrence has never done ANYTHING to me, mom.” Wendy seethed. She was getting to the end of her own patience. “He’s not going to hurt me.”
“I just don’t want you to be joined at the hip to a degenerate who just...”
“I SAID SHUT UP!” Wendy exploded, wheeling on her mother, the last of her patience being wiped away. “Terrence is NOT a degenerate, and he’s not a delinquent, or anything ELSE you think he is! He’s a kind, caring man, who has done NOTHING but treat me right, and he just made ONE mistake! And, unlike YOU, at least he’s willing to ADMIT IT, and take RESPONSIBILITY, instead of just shrugging it off everytime YOU come home DRUNK from a party!’
Gale’s mouth dropped open, and she gave a sharp intake of breath, her hand covering her mouth. Wendy had never talked to her parents like this before. Heck, she didn’t think she had talked to anyone like that before.
Gayle was sputtering. “How.. how dare..”
“I’m going for a walk,” Wendy announced coldly, wheeling on her heel, and storming to the front door, swinging it open and slamming it behind her. She stalked towards the sidewalk, before changing her mind, and bolting towards the side of the house, by the garage. As she leaned against the siding, the emotion finally overcame her, and she crouched down, sobbing as the tears ran down her face until she completely and utterly ran out of tears.
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