Don't Let Go: Day 7

Word Count: 42,056

Summary of Events:

Upon arriving home from Austria, Tor was informed by his mother that his father wished to speak with him immediately, so he went to see what his father had to say. To his shock, his father informed him that the family company's sponsorship and any other financial support his father had provided his racing career were being withdrawn immediately, as his father didn't want Tor to die racing. Tor, to his embarrassment, burst into tears at the news and fled to his mother, who didn't comfort and reassure him as usual, but told him she didn't want him to die racing either, prompting Tor to get upset at her. His sister confronted him about his actions, prompting him to leave the house, driving his father's car without any license to speak of — as he couldn't legally even have a learner's license yet — to his Opa and Oma's house. He talked with his Oma about the matter before being taken to the police station to face punishment for having driven illegally and returned home, where his father informed him he was forbidden to leave the house — except to go to the backyard for sunshine — for the rest of the month. Tor argued with his father about the matter until his mother fled in tears, prompting Tor to hurry after her, hugging her and apologising . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“I was hurting Mama, and it was foolish,” Tor said. “I shouldn’t have said any of what I said to you earlier. I’m sorry, Mama.”

Sliding his left hand up from between Mama’s shoulders to reach the base of her skull, Tor pressed her head against his shoulder rubbing his forefinger against her scalp gently so that he didn’t pull the tender little hairs that hid down there, especially considering Mama had her hair done up like she usually did so that it didn’t get in her face while she was trying to take pictures, or get into her food when she was cooking.

“But I’ll never be happy working at the company Mama,” Tor said. “Nobody could ever do anything that could make me happy there.”

Mama shifted her head against his chest, prompting him to loosen his left hand’s press.

“Tor,” she whispered, her voice still trembling. “Please, Tor… don’t tell me that you have to keep driving a casket on wheels to be happy.”

Tor grimaced at Mama’s chosen term. “But it’s true Mama. I love racing too much to give it up Mama.”

“But isn’t there a different kind you could do?” Mama asked. “A safer kind?”

“Probably,” Tor conceded. “But I want to race in Formula One like Uncle Zikki, and to last there like he didn’t, to win the Driver’s Championship like Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel. Besides Mama, no one has died in Formula One in six years.”

Shaking her head, Mama pressed her hands against Tor, who loosened his hold on her reluctantly, meeting her tear-filled blue eyes with his own.

“It’s still too dangerous, Tor,” she replied.

Tor had nothing to say. He knew it was dangerous to be a racing driver. Racing history was strewn with the bodies of men who had died well younger than they could’ve, had they not been men, like he, whose hearts thrilled at the sound of a powerful engine, and the feel of it propelling them forward at unfathomable speeds, among whom now lay Uncle Zikki.

“I’m sorry, my little boy,” Mama whispered. “I have too much fear.”

“I’m sorry too, Mama,” Tor replied softly, not breaking his gaze with her. “But I have to do it.”

Mama closed her eyes and sobbed. Tor drew her back close against him and leaned his cheek on her head as she wept. His tears slid silently, those from his left eye sliding down the side of his nose and across his upper lip heading down to his jaw, those from his right heading for his ear, but getting absorbed by Mama’s hair before they could reach their destination.

He wasn’t surprised that Mama was afraid, as she was so much like Oma, and Oma had been afraid of losing Uncle Zikki for years, but he couldn’t quit racing just because Mama was scared. He couldn’t even quit because he was scared — and there were a few times where he had been scared to get into a racing car, or to keep racing — he had to race.

Pronunciation:

Schumacher: shoomahker