I parked in our pits and went over to check on the Gremlin, Dale grabbed my time slip as soon as I walked up.
"You didn't get me did you!" He laughed and handed it back, "but you did outrun Jay, that's a plus".
"What's the plan here, and when did it break?"
"I felt the engine sort of free up at about a hundred feet before the finish line, so I looked down and saw the pressure dropping. I just clicked it in neutral, and shut it off at that point. This is ridiculous with 4.10's and a 31 tire, I was at 7500 just past the thousand foot!"
"Did you find any parts?"
"Yeah...called Jegs, they have two, so I sent Darren after them, then we've been calling him about every ten minutes and adding things to the list!"
"Why didn't you send Rachael?"
"No time. Darren can run 90 all the way over there if he wants to, and she needs to pack, plus air up the tires, and who knows what else".
"Well...we should have her meet him when he gets back on this side of town...she can bring the parts back, and Darren and Shari can track us down some real food", I decided.
Dale looked around at the thirty or forty stragglers still in the pits and shrugged, "yeah, I suppose, you never know who is watching or taking notes!"

The call to turn in time slips as soon as possible came over the loud speaker once again, so Dale, Boone and I headed that direction. As we walked towards the entrance to the tower, Lonnie Grimm was standing just outside the door. I swear he looked right at me, then keyed the mic to his handheld radio.
"Keith Turk to the tower please, we need to check the tech sheets to see if a racer exceeded his ET limit!"
My heart was immediately in my throat, and my guilty conscience was working overtime in concert with my healthy imagination. I was still walking into the tower control room with my brothers, but my mind was completely disengaged from my body.

The last time Lonnie saw the Valiant run last year, I had admitted it wasn't legal to run under 10.00.
He saw me get prepared to run, and I had no gloves or a neck collar. We only have one pair between the three of us, and they were still in the Gremlin.
Was he talking about me? Could my paperwork withstand a thorough investigation? Was I about to be DQ'ed, or forced to take a 20ET/50mph and have my run disallowed?

I was sweating, I felt physically ill, my mouth was dry.
"Calm down man", Boone whispered, "You look like you're about ready to faint!"
Keith and another Drag Week staffer entered the room and went over to the corner to look through two boxes, one containing the white Hot Rod entrance sheets, the other had the yellow NHRA tech cards. They quickly pulled one of each and began comparing them. I was only two people away from turning in my slip, so I was away from the group, but Dale was back towards the door, and I could see him crane his neck to try and peer at the papers they were looking at.
"This is you on the left?" I heard a voice in front of me and snapped around to see who was talking. It was Tonya Turk with my time slip in her hand, although I had no recollection of handing it to her.
"Yeah...yeah, that's it...car 18." I stammered, trying to focus.
"9.91...That's pretty good for you isn't it?" She asked as she wrote out my official Drag Week card.
Dear lord...everyone was in on it, I had just walked into a full blown ambush!
"Yeah, best ever." I agreed.
"Congratulations", Tara Fling smiled at me as Tonya handed me the slip.
I just smiled and backed up so Boone could turn in his. My throat had just quit working and I could find no words. I turned to exit, and it felt like every eye in the room was on me.
Dale grabbed my shoulder as I passed, and put his lips to my ear, "I swear those are your sheets they are going over..."
I bolted from the room, and gasped in fresh air like a man emerging from a deep dive. I waited for the brothers to join me at the base of the tower and we headed back toward our cars. We walked in silence for about a hundred yards before I spun towards them and tossed my hands up.
"If they were looking at my stuff, why didn't they detain me?"
"They probably want to be sure before they say anything, they will just call you into the tower tomorrow when we get to Norwalk", Boone surmised.
We walked a little further as I was lost in a sea of points and counterpoints going off in my head.
"Not buying it", I shook my head. "That's not Keith's MO, you guys know that, he's never backed away from confrontation, if he had something he'd have walked out in that room and said, 'Hey Sugarbritches, get over here and explain this to us!, you know he would!"
Boone and Dale were laughing at me now, full on, uncontrolled laughter.
"Dude, get a grip, you are way too worried about this!"
I crossed my arms over my chest and walked the rest of the way back without acknowledging their existence.

Once back at our pits, Rachael showed me a facebook post from Duane on her phone. It was a photo of his computer screen during the live feed of the Valiant and the Camaro on the line. The caption read, "Great pass Billy and James!"
"Yeah, it would have said, 'the Mopar got sawed off by a showroom stock Camaro' if I had lost!"
Duane was Dale's classmate since first grade, and a competing Chevy gear head since they started playing with cars at thirteen.