The wild cry splitting the silence caused Emily Littlejohn to drop the papier mache elephant currently making a sloppy mess of her kitchen table and cock her head. In the range of ten year old boy yells -- of which she considered herself an expert - the current holler was closer to the ecstatic cry of a kid who'd whipped some computer foe than the dreaded cry that indicated Hospital, Now!
Still, she waited and sure enough soon heard, "Mom, come quick." Excitement bubbled through the words like oil from a gusher.
Since she and Darren were a family of two, she played the roles of mother, father, and often best friend to her ten year old son. She knew that wouldn't last, so she did her best to treasure this time when her son actually wanted to be with her.
"Coming." She wiped her hands on the damp cloth. The elephant in progress tipped onto its trunk, hovered there for a second then keeled over. Looked like she'd have to default to the pig the students in her second grade art class had been making for ten years. That elephant was clearly too complicated.
She tended to forget to move when she was working and as she rose, her back reminded her that she'd been trying to turn a couple of balloons, some shredded newspapers and wallpaper glue into an elephant since she and Darren had eaten their after school snack, two hours ago.
Jogging up the stairs got her blood moving again, but even at her top speed, she was still met on the upstairs landing by a bouncing dynamo. "Come on, Mom. You gotta see this. You'll never guess."
His face was lit with excitement, his eyes blazing blue with happiness. Something much more thrilling than reaching a new level in one of his computer games had to be the cause.
"You got an A in Math?"
"Funny, mom."
Darn. He was too young for girls, and it had been a while since the infrequent visits or calls from his dad had lit him up. Stumped, she followed him into his room.
He raced to his computer and displayed the screen proudly. Even from the doorway she could see the NASCAR logo. Of course.
Darren's greatest enthusiasm in life was stock car racing, and his hero was Jason Bane, the local boy from their own small town in Minnesota who had taken the racing world by storm over the past five years.
Bane was prominently featured in her son's room. He grinned down from glossy posters at a replica of his ride that held pride of place on Darren's bedside table. Emily had personally painted the racing border on his wall, repeating the motif on the bedspread she'd also created. Maybe they didn't have much in the way of money, but Emily used every one of her arts and crafts skills to raise their lives above the mundane.
The computer was by far the most expensive gift she'd ever bought Darren and there were days when she questioned the wisdom. However, the computer did allow him to keep up with his friends, and his hero.
"What is it?" She got closer to Jason Bane's handsome face grinning out at her from the computer screen and wondered if he might be coming home for a visit. Something he hadn't done in ten years. That would account for Darren's excitement. If the prodigal driver returned, would she have the courage to remind Jason Bane that they'd gone to school together?
Even if fate, or more likely Darren, threw him in her path, she knew she wouldn't. She'd had a little crush on the guy back in high school and he hadn't noticed her then. Now that he was a rich, famous, superstar driver, he'd never remember a girl he'd shared a couple of classes with back in Hammersmith High.
"It's a contest," Darren yelled in her ear. "And I'm going to win." He was so excited he couldn't stand still, hopping on one foot, then both. "We get to see a race and you get a shopping spree. How cool is that? Jason Bane's sponsor is Bailey's Department Stores."
