Conflict

Part 2, Chapter 6

It took weeks for things to return to normal.

Upon arriving home from the factory, Strip found Lynda in such an emotional mess it brought him to the brink of a meltdown. It took a couple of days for him to work up the nerve to tell her what had happened, both everything that he'd learned and the tragedy he witnessed. Sometimes he'd get through a whole piece of the story without getting worked up, other times he'd have to stop halfway through and collect himself. Some things he couldn't bring himself to talk about at all. Lynda could do no more to help him than stay by his side, and comfort him when the nightmares became too intense. It was all he could ask for.

As the off-season progressed, the flashbacks and nightmares slacked off. Shock turned to brittle acceptance, and Strip had to force himself to move on. What was in the past was past. There was only the present and the future to consider.

Up north, the attacks stopped. Chrysler turned its focus toward rebuilding and repairing damages, while Ford's only remaining contender seemed to disappear. The citizens of Detroit rioted outside the Renaissance Center on and off for nearly a month after the fire was extinguished, protesting the violence and sparking protests across the country.

Aside from the public uproar, things grew quiet, or rather, remained quiet in the small town the Weathers' called home. As the new racing season grew near, Tex rallied Strip and Wayne to meet at their usual hangout to talk business.

Strip pushed through the Slim Trim's front door and drove past the bar to their usual back table, ignoring the countless stares he received as he passed. He wasn't a rare sight around town, and he truly appreciated not being treated like a celebrity there. Cars would look at him, and maybe in passing say hello, but he was rarely approached. Occasionally a little kid or a newcomer would come to him for an autograph, and he'd oblige, but for the most part he was treated like any other car. It allowed him to truly relax.

"Fashionably late, as always." Wayne commented from behind three empty glasses of brew.

"No, I'm on time." Strip argued, parking in what he'd designated to be 'his spot' at the table. "You guys just always get here early."

It wasn't that he thought he was important enough to have his own place at the table, it was just that one time he'd been parked with his tail toward the aisle and Aimee accidentally caught her serving tray on his spoiler, spilling everything she'd been carrying all over him. From that point on, he preferred to park with his fin toward the wall.

"Glad to see that new coat of paint turned out like it should," Tex complimented him. "I was wonderin' when you were gonna get it done."

Strip looked down at the freshly painted Dinoco logo on his hood. He couldn't deny it felt good to be back in his livery again.

"Yeah, shoulda done it sooner, Tex," he admitted. "Feels good to be back."

Tex nodded and looked over at Wayne. "Weren't you supposed to make a new commercial or somethin' this winter? I thought I put you in charge of publicity."

"You put me in charge of him." Wayne pointed to Strip with his tire.

"Who's our publicity model," Tex finished.

"If you want a commercial, just splice a couple racin' videos together," Strip said. "I'll say a few words. I don't mind."

"No, no. I got it." Wayne shoved his drink back on the table to keep from knocking it over. "I got an idea. Listen to this. 'What's better than one Piston Cup?' Cut to you winning the Dinoco 400. 'Two Piston Cups.' Cut in some old commercial footage. 'Use Dinoco products and you too can become king of the track!' End with more racing footage. Endorsement. The end."