Later, I’m sat in my room reading when Judy popped her head around the door. In her hands is a bundle of laundry; half hers, half mine. She passes me a pile of T shirts, pants, knickers and socks, on top of which is my leotard and ballet tights. She loiters as I put them away. “What are you reading?” she asked. I was a little embarrassed to be reading a story in her old Brownie Book of Adventure titled Susan and the Secret Scroll. I justified my choice of story by claiming that I’d read all my own books. “There’s nothing wrong with reading girl’s books.” Judy said. “Just like there’s nothing wrong with going to Brownies or ballet or being the May Queen.”
“Hey!” I announced. “Father said he’d take us go-karting.”
“At Speed Demons?” Judy asked.
“Er… I dunno.” I replied. It turns out that Speed Demons is a new circuit in Dunstanton and apparently it’s ‘ace’. Judy hadn’t been but some of her school friends have. She described their experience and it sounded great.
The very next day, our Father did indeed take us go-karting and it was indeed ‘ace’. Judy won one of her races and the best I achieved was a third place position. But it’s not the winning that matters, it’s the taking part. “That seems like the first ‘boy’ thing I’ve done for months.” I said.
We rejoined Father in the viewing area. He congratulated our driving skills and gave us the choice of watching a few races or going for a burger. We decided to watch a few races then go for a burger. As we ate, Judy and I recalled every corner and every overtake of our five races. It was a pity that we didn’t actually race each other since we’re in different age groups, but at least we got to watch each other’s races. “Can we come again next week?” I enthusiastically asked.
“I think you’ll be busy doing other things next weekend Vincent.” Father reminded me.
“Oh yeah.” I groaned. “The week after?”
“Probably not.” he smiled, before explaining that it’s not a cheap day out and that we can have too much of a good thing. “Maybe in a couple of months eh?”
Neither Judy nor myself wanted to wait that long, but we didn’t argue with Father’s reasoning. When we arrived home we wasted no time in telling Mother about our great day out and insisted that next time, she’ll have to come too. “They have grown up races for Mothers and Fathers.” Judy said. “But Father chickened out of entering.”
Father said he had a great time just being a spectator but hinted that he might get more involved next time he takes us. The next day at school I had something cool to boast about for a change and in spite of the fact that I didn’t win a single race, I felt like the next Lewis Hamilton. But that didn’t stop a few of my classmates from taking the wind out of my sails by reminding me that next weekend, I’ll be dressing like a girl in the May Queen parade.