RAE ON-AIR | JULY 2015 - PODCAST #232
[00:01] Hello everyone. It's Rae again.
[00:03] I know I haven't been able to update you guys as much but *sighs*
[00:08] Life has been happening more than usual.
[00:12] The past year and a half has been taxing,
[00:15] but I made it out alive.
[00:20] I SURVIVED! *sound of a single clap*
[00:21] It's officially my last year as an Educ student
[00:24] But thankfully, it seems
[00:27] the universe is being less of an asshole this time around.
- - -
It's her last lap. She relishes every turn and willingly fights against the strong pull of gravity on her body as the slicks lift off the ground at a sharp curve. She steps on the gas. She feels the air hitting her torso with a vengeance. Reluctantly, her foot presses down on the brakes, making the last turn before stopping at the pit lane.
For a student whose expenditures are mostly limited to tuition, books, dorm fees and other school-related things, there is very little room for leisure. But Rae has long resolved to set aside some money every day to pool enough for a round at the Manila Kart track at least once a month.
After their parents died, Rae and her brothers were forced to leave the life they'd become accustomed to. No more family outings, no more jet-setting, no more cruising down the expressway listening to their dad singing along very badly to pop songs on the radio. She lost a big part of herself when she lost her mom and dad, and a trip back to the kart track where her family last spent a day together put the first piece of her broken puzzle back in place.
Rae lifts her helmet's face shield before breathing in the air that she loves the most—thick with the smell of burnt rubber, the atmosphere still simmering from the heat of all the karts on the track.
The friendly track attendant walks over to her kart. "One more round, Rae?" The words are said in a whisper, the slight man bending down a little to make sure the other customers will not hear his next words nor see the wink it comes with. "On the house."
Who is she to say no? She's at a point where it wouldn't be imposing to keep her kart and ride again. Rae has spent enough time in Manila Kart the past few years, she's practically an institution already.
Looking over the attendant's shoulder, she sees the owner, Sir Basti, give her a thumbs up, and she sends back a salute before putting her face shield back in place.
There's a lot of noise being made behind her, a new group of people goofing around. She barely understands any of it and she doesn't care to either. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens as her legs tremble from excitement. It takes only a few more moments before all the attendants are off the track and the timer is counting down from ten.
The sound of the starter pistol sends all the karts on their way.
---
It's three laps in when Rae realizes it's becoming a pretty tight race. Kart number 57 has been consistently pulling ahead and there are two other karts always just behind it. She manages to pull right back in the lead in mere seconds but it's a game of tug-of-war the entire time.
There are two laps left, and Rae is leading. She hits a sharp curve. She's energized by gravity and the force of the kart's weight pulling at her from opposite directions. It's always been bliss to fight that and she feels triumphant for knowing how to hit that curve perfectly every time. As the slicks settle back on the ground, she feels a nudge on the side of her kart. Kart number 57 just sideswiped her.
She feels another hit, and another, realizing quickly that this driver is trying to bump her off the track. This has never happened to her before, not in Manila Kart or anywhere else. It's such an act of disrespect and not something any decent driver would pull—amateur or otherwise.
On the next curve, she steers to the far corner before turning and driving away in breakneck speed. It should be enough to outrun him if he's as much of a newbie as she thinks he is. But instead, she feels another nudge. The jerk does not know when to stop.
At this point she begins to fear for his safety. There are only a few seconds left before she anticipates the track's next sharp curve. If he dares to chase her through it, an embarrassing disaster is inevitable.
Without any time left, she doesn't even think. Her hands, her feet, they know what to do. She takes the curve as she always does, feeling her body fall against the side of the kart. The wheels grip the ground in a split second, and she drives away.
When she approaches that same sharp curve on the last lap, she sees men pulling out kart number 57 that has, as it seems, crashed into the tire barricades.
---
"Another good run." The attendant approaches Rae to shake her hand and help her out of her kart.
"Thanks," she says when she feels him pat her shoulder. The adrenaline is still running through her veins and there's a bounce in her step as she walks into the waiting area—fulfilled, empowered, and centered.
She's about to head toward the lockers when she's pulled back so roughly, it takes a moment before her gaze focuses on a guy's face.
Mike, the Mike Vera Cruz, is staring her down. When did he even get here? From over his shoulders, Rae could see the familiar faces of his two closest friends. Yuan, the taller of the two, is looking on with a tinge of worry on his face. The other, JR, has a smirk on that Rae wishes she could wipe off with her fist.
No words are exchanged, and she's glad for the helmet covering her face. Bastard probably has no idea that he's about to start a fight with a girl.
"Is there a problem here?" Sir Basti is suddenly beside them, a smile on his face and a hand on Mike's shoulder. Mike is still trying to stare her down right through her helmet, while Rae continues to glare at him from behind it.
"Nothing, I was just congratulating him on his win." This confirms Rae's suspicions—Mike was driving kart number 57. It's even more infuriating now to see Mike's forced smile as he takes a step back.
Rae doesn't even wait for anyone to speak again. There's no way Sir Basti would settle this without making her remove her helmet, and she's not quite ready for that. She runs off, waits until she's sure she's out of their view before removing her helmet and changing out of her race suit. In less than ten minutes, she's out of the gate and is sprinting away from Manila Kart.
---
It felt like Lemony Snicket put his pen to her book of life and started writing down a shit storm of unfortunate events.
The guy she sat on the bus with smelled. And on the road back, traffic swelled unusually. It left her discreetly covering her nose with the strap of the bag she was hugging against her chest. On her way down the bus, another passenger rushed up and accidentally pushed her against the folding door. He didn't even apologize.
Rae was also last in line for the UP Ikot jeep, and as a result, she had to squeeze herself between a hulking teenage boy and a depressed-looking girl. She almost slid off a few times from what little of her seat she had to work with.
As icing on the cake, she tripped on an inconspicuous rock on her way inside the residence hall and cursed so loud, a student she ran into gave her a discerning look.
Of course, that wasn't enough. Because even before she got to lock her door, her phone started to ring. And the personalized ringtone was enough to make her kick the door closed before answering.
"Explain to me why I am getting this call. One sentence. Go. Or I'm hanging up in three, two—"
"It's already two p.m., De los Santos, why aren't you at the shop?"
Jason doesn't sound pleased, but Rae can definitely do him one better. "Are you that senile already? I asked for a day off yesterday, remember?"
Rae drops her bag on the floor, kicks her shoes off and next, the edge of her bed. "—Mr. Santos just brought his car back in. You were the last one to work on it so I need you to come in and explain."
"I have nothing to explain." The floor feels warm against her now-bare feet, and the heat reflects the flush on her cheeks. Her voice is sharp when she follows up with, "Unless you want me to tell him his clutch keeps giving up on him because he drives like a sleepy cab driver."
Fighting the urge to start throwing things around in a room that's not completely hers, she paces. A bright orange Post-It on the mirror catches her eye so she walks over to it. She could vaguely hear Jason's voice in the distance as she tears off the note that says, "Roomie, out for a bit. I predict awesome takeout in your future, so don't eat out for dinner. No throwing parties either. And say no to drugs, etcetera. –K." She sticks the Post-It back onto the mirror along with its sister Post-Its collecting along the edge.
Jason gets this tone to his voice when he's starting to really get annoyed. She's known him for three years; they've argued on the phone way too many times and by now, Rae's already familiar with it. "Will you take responsibility if we lose business over this?" The tone is lost in that statement though, which gives Rae the initiative to just keep on pushing. She needs something to push.
"Oh please, Jason, don't be such a drama queen."
"Are you high?"
"No. Actually I am unbelievably low right now and have no time to waste on talking to you about something you already know the solution to. And the solution doesn't involve me. Because in case you didn't hear me before, I am not. Coming in. Today."
Rae pauses by the side of her tiny dorm cabinet, eyes closed and head resting against the door. She takes a few breaths against the backdrop of Jason speaking to Mr. Santos on the other line. The older man is irate, and Jason's is starting to take on a tone too. On a regular day, she would feel bad that Jason is the one trying to dodge this old man's insufferable inquiries, but not today.
She ends the call.
School year 2013 has just made its first move. Universe: 1. Rae: 0.