Driver

The news

'Good morning Jason, how do you feel?' My mom asks while she slowly draws the curtains. 'I feel bad, I cant drive in the competition, because my leg is broken and my hand is cramped.' I responded. 'I know, I know, it sucks. But now you know that boys your age do stupid stuff.' My mom added. 'Well, boys around the age of 12 usually don't build cars with their fathers, most of them don't even want to do that.' I have told her that I'm one of the few people in the city who builds cars with his dad, but apperantly my mom thinks she's knows better and thinks every boy between the age of 12-16 do that. My dad came in the holsitalroom, where I slept that night. 'Good morning Jay, I know how much you care about driving, but you sadly can't right now. So I thought I'd cheer you up!' He smiled and gave me a box wrapped in colorful paper. I unwrapped the box and saw what it was. 'HAHAHA, it's a RC car with my number on it!' I laughed really hard and started crying from laughter. My mom laughed too and asked: 'How did you even get this Idea Michael?' 'Oh, you know, I walked passed the RC shelves, and I saw this. So I bought it because now he can race with the ants and the mice in the old garage.' He responded triumphantly. I still laughed and I was surprised he'd find a kart like mine, with the number 21 on it. 

The doctor came in, ha had a piece of paper and he didn't look to exiting. He looked at me and sat down on the chair next to my dad. 'The results are in, and I'm very sorry to tell you, but you have to miss out the 5 oncoming races. Your leg has been broken at multiple places, the car accident really got you.' I looked at him disappointed. 'But, I can't miss out on that, I have to compete for the championship. I can go to young adults if I win the teen cup. I really need to heal and revalidate faster.' I said sad, while crying a little. My mom hugged me, and my dad held my hand. 'I'm really sorry Jayson, but I can't let you go racing faster.' He said, while nodding his head. He knew I was heartbroken, and he knew that racing was all I ever wanted to do. 'But, you can go home this afternoon, so you don't have to stay for a long time.' He added. A few hours later, the nurses came in, they gave me some painkillers for the night, they gave advise to my parents and told me I was free to go home.

'Dad, I know I can't race, but isn't there a car which we can rebuild and modify?' I asked while walking crippled to the table. He looked at me, smiled, and pointed to the seat next to him. I sat down and we started to look for cars. 'How about an European car?' He asked. 'No, they are usually not that fast, and if they are, they're expenisve to buy.' I responded. He agreed and we checked further. 'Dad! Dad! Look! A skyline!' I screamed exiting. 'Yeah, I agree. Fast, fancy, good for drifing and straight line speed. We probably have a potential dragstrip car.' He added. We called the owner of the car, and he agreed to get rid of it. We got our towtruck, went to the salesman and we picked up the car. 'What are we going to do with it?' I asked. 'Well, we modify it for my friend, James. He is in Tokio, and he wants to learn drivers how to drift. This might be the perfect car for him.' My dad reacted. I agreed, and we discussed a bit about how it would look, how we would modify it and what colors we would give it.

The weeks flew by, and the car was build faster then we have had expected. The suspension was the biggest issue, soft and strong suspension for drifting is not easy to get your hands on, let alone make it for yourself. But we finally got the car done. 'Shall we test it before we export it to James? He asked. 'Well, obviously, we can't just build a car without testing it.' I said to him. We went in the track and started drifting. 60, 70, 80, and even 90 miles per hour before my dad yanks the handbrake and smoothly slide through the corner. We set drift record after drift record, and we improved the laps with every single round. Suddenly we get a call from the hospital, and we picked up. 'Jason Taylor' I said, and I heard the doctor: 'Jason, it's doctor Gomez, we checked the pictures of your leg, and we're happy to tell you that you've completely healed. So no more cast, no more cautious actions, and last but not least, you can race again!' I smiled and my father was laughing out of happiness. After we spoke a little more I called the trainer. 'Hello mister Davids, this is Jason Taylor, I am calling you to tell you I start my race next week by myself again, I got green light to race again.' It was quiet for a while, and then I heard a partypopper and loud music. He screamed: 'Let's party next weekend, you'll start at the end of the grid, but knowing you it won't be an issue.' I smiled and laughed about it, I hung up and my fater drove home. When we told the news to my mom, she was crying out of joy, and she was happy I could start again.