The French Girl

Philip Dimmler always drove guys crazy. All through their freshman and sophomore years, he’d sneak up behind guys and thumb an earlobe and go, “Mingee-mingee-mingee.” No one knew what mingee-mingee-mingee meant, but Dimmler was pretty fishy, so he got the nickname of Finny.

Finny Dimmler’s dream was to get in tight with the guys, or Rob’s jock crowd. Finny hung around Rob O’Rouke’s house whenever he could. The guys called Finny their pet basket case, or sent him out for burgers, or ditched him.

In his junior year Finny got so desperate to buddy with the guys that he tried out for the football team. Finny was shifty and fast, so he made the first-string halfback. But that only earned him a little respect because Finny hated getting tackled and he could never hide how scared he was. Whenever Finny carried the ball, he let off a long high squeal: Eeeeeeeeeee.

This exasperated the guys. They’d go: Dimmler, why doncha act like a football player? Our first game’s coming up. We know you’re scared, but can’t you stop that squealing? Like, other teams are gonna think we’re all weenies.

But, during games Finny eeeeeeeeeed even louder and ran even faster, he was so terrified. The thing was, the other teams never tackled Finny, they only cornered him, and then he’d hit the deck or run out of bounds or just collapse in a squealing pile. So, after Finny ripped off some long twisty runs and a couple of touchdowns, the guys stopped complaining. Still no offers came to ride with the guys, Rob’s gang, until Ivoine Cadou, a French exchange student, showed up that spring of their junior year.

In the Lutheran ghetto of Parkland, Washington, Ivoine’s acceptance of romance did more than simply impress the guys. Most of them put their steady girlfriends on mental hold and plunged into a frenzy of strutting and playing the fool for her. Ivoine considered their attention normal and she didn’t mind showing that she was interested, too. But, after Ivoine checked out the guys for a week, they were stunned when she picked Finny as her steady boyfriend.

During the first month, there were signs that they were getting something on. For three days after their dates, Finny was so calm he forgot about coming up behind the guys and nabbing their earlobe and going mingee-mingee-mingee. This alone was enough to give Ivoine the reputation for being loose.

She didn’t give a damn what the other girls thought. “Bye Juin I am returned to Frawnce anywayz.”

And her remark about Lutheran soshes made it clear what she thought of their local brand of Puritanism. “Ah,” she’d turn up her palms as if their situation was hopeless, “zhey are zho zhad.”

The only thing that saved Ivoine from total condemnation from the sosh girls was that she hadn’t picked one of the better Lutheran guys. That was sure something any of those straight arrows would have loved. But Ivoine dated only Finny.

Rob O’Rouke and guys dug that she was excited about the United States and things “veree Amereecaan.” They adopted Ivoine because she was always ready to check out anything from rodeos to demolition derbies.

“Ah, I enjoyz zho much zee Amereecaan ways of life,” she told them, “zhat I forgeet compleetelee Frawnce.”

Because Finny loved to hang around Rob’s gang, he never complained about Ivoine’s travels with the guys. Now and then he’d get into some jealous fidgets, but Ivoine would set him straight.

“Pheeleep, thees ez your problem,” pointing to his forehead. “Een your mind, non?” As she ruffled his hair, she’d say, “No ones of zhem ez you, Pheeleep,” and tap his nose with her finger.

And that’s when Finny would get real quiet. The nose tap. The way that nose tap calmed him down drove any guys watching into instant jealousy fits.

Ivoine thought nothing of riding around with a carload of guys. She didn’t act as if she were in any danger, when everyone in Protestant Lutheran Parkland knew that a single girl cruising in a car with boys was considered to be asking for trouble. And her trust turned Rob’s gang protective.

Even though she was living with Millie LacDonald and Millie’s parents were the local liberal Democrats, the guys were still careful. To make it appear as if Ivoine were on a date, the gang always sent Finny over alone to pick her up so Mrs. Macdonald wouldn’t get worried. Plus they got such a big kick out of showing her around they didn’t want Ivoine to get in any trouble.

Of course, they took some risks showing off for her. One day Rob drove her and the guys out to the military reservation and demonstrated for her some cross country racing tricks with his father’s jeep. Rob strapped Ivoine in the passenger seat with a motorcycle helmet on her. Then, with Hubie Cooper and Flipper Gordon wahooing in the back seat for special effects, he squirreled around the prairie. O’Rouke didn’t drive too crazy, but hung fast enough turns to het a few screams out of Ivoine.

“Ez doughnut?” Her eyes were big from Rob’s driving, but she still gamely worked on her American slang.

“Naw. That was a brody. A doughnut is when the car goes like this,” and Rob made quick circles in the air with his finger.

“Ah, I see.” Ivoine waved her hand in a fish motion. “So brodee ez when zee tail go swish-swish?”

“No, no, no, I told ya – that’s a fishtail. A fishtail is no big deal. Anyone can do a fishtail.”

“No beeg deal,” Ivoine repeated dutifully. “Ez not important, non?”

“Right. A brody’s when you almost cut a doughnut, but then you don’t go all the way around.” Rob cackled, downshifting into second gear. “Now watch this!”

To show Ivoine what a great guy he was, Rob constantly thought up new stuff for her to try. When he ran out of real events for them to go to, Rob lied about what was next to get her to his house on weekends. Rob was also a shameless showoff and the best mimic in the school. Rob did perfect imitations of everyone, including Ivoine herself.

“Pheeleep,” Rob would say, patting his heart. “No ones of zhem are you, Pheeleep,” and she’d laugh.

Then he’d follow that with his version of Finny as a Jerry Lewis spazbo, but nothing Rob did shook Ivoine loose from Finny. On Friday nights, she would only date her Philip.

Rob endlessly speculated about why Ivoine was stuck on Finny. “Dimmler’s such a weenie! What’s she see in him?”

The go-kart fad was first introduced when a former tractor warehouse on South Tacoma Way was converted into the Puget go-kart racetrack. Because the indoor track was out of the normal Washington drizzle, the Puget became the most popular. After the craze cooled, the Puget closed for a few months and then it sold. The new owners redesigned the track and bought fresh go-karts for rentals.

On Wednesday after the Puget’s re-opening, the two worst bad-asses in the school, Tony Ripolla and Race Evart, vowed that they were going to blitz the place. All of Rob’s gang had been banned from the Puget before it was sold, but Race and Ripolla figured maybe the new owners didn’t know them or about their blitzing.

Race went in Ripolla’s 1953 Studebaker and Ray Steen, Shone Dunnigan and Flipper Gordon followed in Dean Hagenbarth’s car. Pete and Hubie rode to the Puget in Rob’s new 1961 blue Pontiac, stopping to pick up Ivoine at Finny’s house.

Inside the Puget’s cavernous green cement building, the new orange go-karts and the redesigned banked track impressed the guys. Hay bales were stacked two high to form the retaining walls for the straightaways. At the top of each curve, three rows of old car tires provided extra protection. At the sought end of the track was the pit stop with the rental cars. Behind the tires on the north end was a repair shop by a wide corrugated aluminum door leading to the outside parking lot. The concrete shell quickly filled with exhaust, so that the door was rolled halfway up for ventilation.

Ivoine hadn’t met Evart or Ripolla. Finny and Pete and Hubie pointed Race and Rip out to her and topped each other with stories about how rowdy and crazy they were. Ripolla was six foot three inches tall and weighed two hundred pounds. He had such a heavy beard, he boasted of being a regular beer drinker at the Midland Tavern. Race was an orphan, a wild kid who had been tossed out of a lot of foster homes. His main kick was stealing. But usually he was ready for anything outrageous.

Race and Ripolla acted like movie stars and waved to their buddies as they surrendered tickets for their first and last go-kart ride of the night.

“Oh boy, this is gonna be a GREAT Blitz!” Rob crowed. “There’s only two track attendants! And that crazy bastard Race has got needlenose pliers!”

Finny explained to Ivoine that the go-karts were fixed to run only so fast. But since the accelerator cable was under the seat, with a pair of pliers a guy could jerk on the cable and make the go-karts go faster.

“And theez ez a blitz?”

“No. When the ten laps are over, you don’t come in, but just keep going around. That’s a blitz.”

Ivoine looked even more confused.

Pete took over the explanations. “You pay for ten laps, okay Ivoine? Race and Rip paid to drive ten times around the track.” Race spun one finger around to indicate a lap. “But they’re going to go as many laps as they can. See those two guys in the blue overalls? Watch them. They go nuts trying to flag people down.”

When the attendants opened up the go-kart pit, Race and Ripolla pushed through the younger kids and claimed two of the newest orange go-karts. Out on the track, Race fished the pliers out of his pocket and wedged the pliers between the pipe frame and accelerator cable. Every time he needed a burst of speed he jammed the makeshift lever down, pulling the carburetor wide open. Ripolla wasn’t sp fussy. He grabbed the cable, jerked it free of its rail frame and sent the go-kart screaming full-throttle into the first curve.

After ten laps, the attendant showed the checkered flag and waved the go-karts into the pit, but Ripolla and Race kept going. When the attendant stepped out in the middle of the track to flag them down, Ripolla swerved, trying to see how close he could come to the attendant’s legs. While he was pinned there, Race cruised by and snatched the checkered flag out of his hand.

Rob, Hubie, Finny and Pete stood up cheering. “What a blitz! What a blitz!” they screamed. “He’s got the checkered flag!” Stamping their feet, they chanted, “Tro-phee! Tro-phee! Tro-phee!”

The second attendant ran out in the back turn and waved a greasy red flag for Ripolla to stop. Rip sent his gocard into a slide, and sent the attendant scrambling over the tires. As Ripolla came out of the slide his go-kart fishtailed and stalled. Race shot past Ripolla on the inside and took the lead, holding the checkered flag high.

Back in the pit stop the other attendant crouched behind a bale, holding a tire under his arm.

“Here come the spares!” Pete holllared. “Ivoine watch Race! That attendant’s gonna try to hit him with a spare tire!”

When Race barreled into the turn, the attendant slung a tire in front of Race’s go-kart. The tire skidded across the track. But Race swerved, barely missing it.

“Olé!” the guys screamed.

“How many extra laps is that? Four?” Rob shouted. “I bet Race gets six laps! You wanna make a bet? Anyone want to make a bet?”

When Ripolla swerved back into the turn, the attendant spilled a stack of tires across the track. Ripolla tried to power between two of them, but his right wheel caught one and he lost control. He sideswiped the hay bales, but straightened the go-kart out.

Two more piles of tires were kicked out, blocking the back stretch. When Race roared into the curve, he didn’t hesitate. He drove straight past the attendant and into the repair shop. Waving the checkered flag, Race spun a doughnut, straightened out, and sent his go-kart flying under the half-opened door into the parking lot outside.

In the bleachers the guys were lunatic. “Looka that crazy bastard Race! Ya see what he did? Didya?”

Ripolla tried to sneak through the repair shop, too. But the attendant shoved some hay bales across the hole and Ripolla smacked into the edge of one. His go-kart spun around behind the attendant and the engine died. Jumping up, Ripolla tossed his crash helmet at the attendant and ran outside. In the dark parking lot, Race’s go-kart was snorting and roaring around.

One attendant picked a crowbar off the bench and waited for the second attendant to join him before they marched out the door after Race and Ripolla.

Up in the bleachers Rob and the guys went nuts. They stamped their feet in unison, chanting: “Tro-phee! Tro-phee!”

Race and Ripolla ditched the go-kart and made a clean getaway. While the attendants returned the stolen go-kart from the parking lot, in the bleachers Rob and Pete plotted the next move. Pete was sure the attendants wouldn’t let any more high school students on the track, but Rob had a plan.

“Naw, look, here’s the setup. Finny’ll take Ivoine down and I’ll pretend I’m Ivoine’s legal guardian. Those guys are not going to be scared of a girl – or Finny, for Christ’s sake.”

Finny and Ivoine went down with Rob to select their go-karts. He steered them toward the new orange karts Race and Ripolla had already hot-rodded. His masterplan was when the guys tried their next blitz, they would switch with Finny and Ivoine and get the go-karts with stretched gas cables.

One attendant tapped Rob on the shoulder with a monkey wrench. “No way, buddy. You’re not racing today.”

“Well, I’m not riding,” Rob protested. “This is my relative from France and her cousin. They’re riding.”

The attendant looked hard at Finny, but before he could say yes or no, Ivoine sat down in the go-kart and put on the crash helmet.

“Howe theeze works?”

“Wait,” the attendant pointed to Ivoine. “This ah – she – ah — she knows how to drive, don’t she?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got her driver’s license. But she’s never driven one of these.” Rob knelt beside the go-kart and put his right hand on Ivoine’s shoulder, smiled at her and pointed at her right foot.

“Now, Ivoine, just like a car, that’s the gas pedal.”

Rob let his left hand drop and he squeezed the top of her thigh. “And this is the brake.” Rob leaned closer and whispered, “You ever drive before?”

“Ez no beeg deal!” Ivoine squirmed down in the seat and giggled. “Theez ez fon, non?”

Rob left the pit and moved closer to where Pete was watching. “Goddamn, Dwyer, she’s never driven before. This is gonna be one wild ride.”

During the first few laps, Ivoine maintained a steady pace, hogging the middle of the track. The other drivers drove around her. Each time she passed Pete and Rob, she let go of the wheel, threw one finger forward and yelled, “Allez ‘tit pépé, t’avaaaance!”

“What the hell is she yelling?”

“I dunno,” Pete said. “But it looks like she’s saying Honk on!”

Ivoine continued circling at the minimum speed. But as she was yelling “Allez ‘tit pépé, t’avaaaance!” she let go of the wheel, her go-kart drifted and another driver decided to pass her. He swerved out of control and broadsided her kart. His front tire jammed under her frame, taking the loose accelerator cable with it, sending the engine into permanent high rev. With that burst of power, Ivoine’s go-kart lurched off the other go-kart’s wheel, turned a brody and faced the oncoming traffic. When her tires caught hold, her go-kart shot up the racetrack, going the wrong way. She headed straight towards two stragglers on their last lap. Ivoine let go of the steering wheel, grabbed the two sides of her helmet and screamed. The two other karts split and her go-kart flashed between them. Heading into the curve, Ivoine panicked and jerked the wheel, swinging into a high speed slide. Her go-kart whipped out of the curve into a straightaway, its engine giving out a valve rattling chatter. Ivoine let go of the wheel again, grabbed her crash helmet with both hands and howled.

Rob and Pete jumped over the fence and ran on the track. One attendant was pulling out a spare tire when Pete grabbed him.

“She’s out of control,” he screamed at the guy. “Goddamn it, don’t throw a tire at a girl!”

Ivoine barreled down the straightaway. Rob stood in the middle of the track, pointing at his left leg. “The brakes! Hit the brakes, Ivoine!”

Her kart barely missed hitting him.

“She’s got her eyes closed!” Rob sprinted to the start of the straightaway. Squatting on a hay bale, he waited for Ivoine. When she fishtailed out of the curve, Rob jumped onto the track. Her go-kart tires were still spinning for traction as Rob slapped the cutoff switch down onto the spark plug. This shut off the juice, but Rob also got a jolt of electricity when his fingers touched the plug.

“Owwwwweeeeeee!” Rob reeled backwards and dropped down on the track, clutching his right hand.

Ivoine’s go-kart shot forward from its momentum and Pete jumped out on the track, grabbed the roll bar and dug in his feet. Slowly it rolled to a stop.

Finny rushed out. Ivoine was yelling. She was hysterical. Finny wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her out of the seat. Ivoine began kicking the go-kart. Both attendants tried to stop her. Ivoine broke free of Finny and aimed a few more kicks at the kart. She clawed at her helmet and slammed it into the crotch of one attendant. He doubled over. Finny dragged Ivoine away while she kicked and cursed, spitting foul sounding words in French. Pete stepped between them and the enraged attendant. He put his hands up to calm him down. Rob circled around behind Pete and gave Finny the keys to his car, telling him to hide Ivoine away before they all got busted.

Once she was gone, Pete showed the attendants where the accelerator cable was jammed into a wide open position by the collision with the other go-kart. That calmed the attendants down. But they declared that Finny, Ivoine, Pete and Rob were banished forever from the Puget. They guys left, but not before protesting that it wasn’t them that fooled with the equipment, it was those other hoodlums. And nobody knew who they were, besides.

In the parking lot, Hubie, Shone, Ray and Dean reeled around, banging into each other and congratulating themselves on the most successful blitz of all time. They decided to drive over to the Dairy Diner drive-in and celebrate with victory burgers and shakes.

“Wait a minute,” Rob peered at the corner of the parking lot. “Where’s my car?”

“Finny took it. Didn’t you give him your keys?” Hubie laughed. “No lie, Finny was so hopped up, he was shaking like a leaf.” Hubie poked Rob. “And Ivoine, wow! She was still smoking. She was reeeeed hot!”

Dean cruised the Dairy Diner and the other local drive-ins, looking for Rob’s Pontiac. Then he drove the guys back to Rob’s house. Merla, Rob’s mother, was out of town at a horse show. His dad, Big Rob, was boozing somewhere, so the guys had the run of the house. They waited for Finny until one-thirty, killing time playing pool in the O’Rouke’s rec room. Rob kept walking out into the garage and checking for his car. Not waiting to call Millie MacDonald’s house, for fear of getting Ivoine into trouble, he phoned Dimmler’s mom instead. She told him Philip was staying overnight at O’Rouke’s. Then Rob got pissed off.

“This really fries me. Here I set up the blitz, I play the hero, save Ivoine, shook the shit out of myself, and then Finny steals my car to go off and park with her. It was my idea to take her along. I feel like one of those goddamn teasers they use at my mom’s stable to get the mare all hot and bothered. Then they let the stud go at it, not that Finny’s a stud.”

“Rob, if you had the chance,” Pete told him, “you would have done the exact same thing.”

“Well, sure. But still….Finny? You don’t think they’re really getting anything on, do you?”

“We don’t know, but she was really steaming.”

“I mean,” Rob complained. “Finny’s such a weeeeeeenie!”

Soon everyone got tired of Rob’s complaints. So Dean drove them back home. Rob paced around the rec room, playing a game of eightball by himself and muttering about what a little weasel Finny was. About two in the morning, Rob walked into the living room and happened to look out the big picture window. Through the lilac bushes in the corner of the yard, he saw that his blue Pontiac was parked at his grandmother’s house next door. Rob went out and checked his car, but the engine was cool and the doors were locked. Mystified, Rob walked back in the house, thinking that it would be like Finny to lock the car and then take off with the keys.

In his bedroom, Rob flipped on the light. There was a groan, and the blankets on the top bunk bed stirred. Rob went up on his tiptoes and saw that Finny was sleeping there.

“I’ll be goddamned!” Rob laughed. Finny probably turned off the engine and coasted to a stop at grandma’s house. He probably snuck in the front while we were yakking and playing pool.