Fiction: On wheels (Sobre ruedas) [EN/ES]
On wheels
Fred was a boy with a passion for wooden cart racing, he had built his 'Lightning Fast', as he called his wooden hot rod, painted white with a red lightning bolt on the top front.
Fred had been building his wooden cart for six months and planned to compete in the city's Wooden Cart League (WCL). It was the first year he would be competing, his pupils dilated at the sight of his large finished work and a huge smile was painted on his freckled face.
With his small and lanky body, he climbed into the wooden cart and imagined that he was running at full speed down the slope overtaking his opponents. "'Lightning Fast' runs and overtakes one by one his opponents turns left then right, takes the sharp turn with dexterity and goes out onto the straight with great speed in search of first place, Ñem, Ñem..." he spoke to himself with enthusiasm gushing from every pore of his skin.
"Fred, you must sleep, it's late and tomorrow you have to get up early to go to your competition." Mother's authoritative and loving voice could be heard throughout the house.
"Coming Mom, I'm just finishing getting my 'Lightning Fast' ready and I'm hurrying to bed, Yum, yum, yum...." Fred was finishing getting his little hotrod ready and hurrying to the bedroom.
The boy's mind was still draining adrenaline and his thoughts were racing around in his head. Fred couldn't fall asleep and kept tossing and turning in bed, watching the moonbeams scurrying through the curtains as he searched for the car-shaped blanket. The boy lost himself in the bluish rays and wandered through fanciful images of racing in the luminous air of the full moon.
After much thinking about improbable futures, his mind gave up and gave way to sleep that lasted only a few hours, after Fred woke up startled, looked at the time and ran to the bathroom and then quickly down to the dining room, where his mother had a delicious breakfast ready for him with eggs, bread and a delicious freshly squeezed orange juice.
"Mom, are you ready yet?" the boy would eagerly ask.
"Give me five minutes, you can put the wooden cart in the car for now," the mother told the boy as she finished washing the dishes.
A few minutes later, mother and son arrived at the competition. People crowded the slope on both sides of the street. Fred watched this spectacle and his stomach twisted with nerves, it was his first official competition.
The first races were held under an inclement sun and the shouts of the crowd cheered on the competitors as they sped down the slope. Fred was entered for race number 7. Along with two other competitors, he would prove that his 'Lightning Fast' could fly on asphalt.
Fred's turn to compete was approaching with every step of the clock, he could feel a series of anxious and nervous sensations in every fiber of his little body. The mother was helping the boy with the last details before the competition, Fred looked at her and a smile from her conveyed a security that gave him confidence to go ahead.
"Well, son, everything is ready, your 'Lightning Quick' is waiting for you". A loving hug surrounded the little competitor's body.
"Mom, that's enough, everyone is looking at us, it's not 'Lightning Quick' it's 'Lightning Fast'." The little boy was shaking in his mother's arms, but that moment inspired him with boundless optimism.
Fred put on his helmet, golden hair peeking out from the sides of his head, and put on his plastic goggles and blue gloves painted with lightning bolts. He was stroking his wooden cart and whispers peeled from his lips. "It's time my little fellow, let's win this competition to get to the next round."
The three competitors stood at the start, Fred looked at the big slope and it seemed so huge, almost intimidating, he took a deep breath and waited for the starting signal. Those minutes in front of that slope were eternal and the sensations inside him tingled in every pore of his skin.
A deep voice could be heard shouting into the air. "On your marks, get set, go!"
Fred felt a big push that took him straight down the slope. The carts slowly began to pick up speed, the boy felt the air wrap around his face and the white stripes of the street seemed to move under the cart wheels.
The wooden carts were moving down the asphalt street looking to position themselves in first place. Fred was in third place very close to the first two, who were fighting for first place. The boy was looking to make less friction with the wind to gain more speed and was sinking his head almost completely into his cart.
He started to get closer to the first two and felt his adrenaline flowing with every movement of the steering wheel. He would get as far as the second one, who would look at him with disdain and let out an evil laugh, then move the cart towards Fred to make him crash. The brave boy and his 'Lightning Fast' withstood the onslaught, he gained more speed and Fred moved into second place, now he was going to hunt down the first one.
People were screaming with the excitement of the race and Fred's mother was watching the race with an accelerated heartbeat. The boy was just a few centimeters behind the first and saw that they were approaching a closed curve, it was the perfect opportunity to pass the first, but the maneuver was very risky.
If he braked too late he could crash and be out of the competition, it had to be at the right time to pass the first. Fred took the risk and took the curve without braking until the right moment, at that moment he passed the first, but he saw that his "Lightning Fast" was getting dangerously close to the straw bins.
He braked with all his strength and then turned the steering wheel as much as he could, it was a struggle between the centrifugal force and the boy. Sweat was running down Fred's forehead and it looked like he would end up in the straw bins, at the last instant he corrected and was passing close to tragedy, he resumed the straight slope that showed the finish line, the end was a few meters away.
Fred was in the lead, but due to his untimely braking, his 'Lightning Fast' lost speed and his pursuers were going to catch up with him. The boy was so close that he was only a few more meters away, but his rivals caught up with him only 50 meters from the finish line, the three carts were side by side.
There was no more time to maneuver, it would be the cart with the best aerodynamics that would win the race. The three cars were approaching the finish line, so close together that there was no way of knowing who would win. Speed and nerves took over Fred's mind and he looked at the finish line on the horizon.
He began to shout. "Go Lightning, go Lightning, go Lightning! Yum, yum, yum..." Then everything happened in slow motion, Fred watched the people clapping, and shouting slowly, and after a few seconds, the three carts passed the finish line. The carts slowed down and came to a slow stop.
Fred's mother would come up to the boy and his 'Lightning Fast', hug and pat her son, and say, "Way to go son, what an exciting race, I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, Mommy, but who won?" asked Fred as he stepped out of the cart.
The judges looked at the photofinish and a somewhat gangly man was taking the microphone. "And the winner is..." The announcer would pause dramatically, as the boys' eyes widened to the top of their sockets. "Fred Carbis and his 'Lightning Fast'."
The boy couldn't believe it, he was jumping and laughing, immense happiness filled his whole little being and the mother hugged Fred.
"Great race, Fred, but now you will face me and it won't be so easy. Haha." The champion would turn around and head up the hill.
The end
Sobre ruedas
Fred era un chico apasionado por la competición de carritos de madera, había construido su "Rayo veloz", como le llamaba a su bólido de madera, pintado de blanco con un rayo rojo en la parte delantera superior.
Fred había estado construyendo su carrito de madera durante seis meses y planeaba competir en la Liga de Carritos de Madera de la ciudad (LCM). Era el primer año que competiría, sus pupilas se dilataban al ver su gran obra terminada y una sonrisa enorme se pintaba en su rostro lleno de pecas.
Con su cuerpo pequeño y larguirucho se metió al carrito de madera e imaginaba que corría a toda velocidad por la pendiente superando a sus adversarios. «"Rayo veloz" corre y supera uno a uno a sus contrincantes gira a la izquierda luego a la derecha, toma la curva cerrada con destreza y se perfila con gran velocidad en búsqueda del primer lugar, Ñem, Ñem...», hablaba para sí mismo con el entusiasmo brotando por cada poro de su piel.
«¡Fred!, debes dormir ya es tarde y mañana tienes que levantarte temprano para ir a tu competencia». La voz autoritaria y amorosa de la madre se escuchaba por toda la casa.
«Voy mamá, estoy terminando de alistar a mi "Rayo veloz" y voy a toda prisa para la cama, Ñem, Ñem...». Fred terminaba de alistar su pequeño bólido e iba a toda prisa a la habitación.
La mente del chico seguía drenando adrenalina y sus pensamientos rondaban por la cabeza. Fred no podía conciliar el sueño y seguía dando vueltas en la cama, miraba los rayos lunares escurriéndose por las cortinas buscando la cobija con figuras de carros. El chico se perdía en los azulados rayos y divagaba entre imágenes fantasiosas de carreras en el aire luminoso de la luna llena.
Luego de mucho pensar en futuros improbables, su mente se rindió y dio paso al sueño que duro tan solo unas horas, después de eso Fred se levantó sobresaltado, miró la hora y corrió hacia el baño y luego bajaba rápidamente hasta el comedor, donde su madre le tenía listo un delicioso desayuno con huevos, pan y un delicioso jugo de naranja recién exprimido.
«Mamá, ¿ya estás lista?», preguntaba afanoso el chico.
«Dame cinco minutos, por lo pronto puedes ir metiendo el carrito de madera al auto», le decía la madre al chico mientras terminaba de lavar los platos.
Unos minutos más tarde, madre e hijo llegaban a la competencia. La gente colmaba la pendiente a los lados de la calle. Fred miraba este espectáculo y su estómago se retorcía por los nervios, era su primera competencia oficial.
Las primeras carreras de disputaban bajo un sol inclemente y los gritos de la multitud animaban a los participantes que bajaban por la pendiente a gran velocidad. Fred fue inscrito para la carrera número 7, Junto a dos competidores más, demostraría que su "Rayo veloz" volaba en asfalto.
El turno de Fred para competir se acercaba a cada paso del reloj, podía sentir una serie de sensaciones de ansiedad y nervios en cada fibra del pequeño cuerpo. La madre ayudaba al chico con los últimos detalles antes de la competencia, Fred la miraba y una sonrisa de ella le transmitía una seguridad que le daba confianza para seguir adelante.
«Bueno, hijo, ya todo está listo, tu "Rayito veloz" te está esperando». Un abrazo con mucho amor rodeó el cuerpo del pequeño competidor.
«Mamá, ya basta, todos nos miran, además no es "Rayito" es "Rayo"». Se sacudía el pequeño de ente los brazos de su madre, aunque ese momento lo inspiró llenándolo de un optimismo sin límites.
Fred se colocaba el casco y los cabellos dorados asomaban por los lados de la cabeza, se colocaba las gafas de plástico y unos guantes azules pintados con rayos. Acariciaba su carrito de madera y unos susurros se despegaron de sus labios. «Es hora mi pequeño compañero, vamos a ganar está competencia para llegar a la siguiente ronda».
Los tres competidores se colocaban en la salida, Fred miraba la gran pendiente y parecía tan enorme, casi intimidante, respiró profundo esperó la señal de salida. Aquellos minutos frente a esa pendiente se hacían eternos y las sensaciones dentro de él hormigueaban por cada poro cutáneo.
Una voz grave se oía gritar al aire. «¡En sus marcas, listos, fuera!».
Fred sintió un gran empujón que lo llevo directo a la pendiente. Los carritos poco a poco empezaban a tomar velocidad, el chico sentía como el aire envolvía su rostro y las rayas blancas de la calle parecían moverse debajo de las ruedas del carrito.
Los carritos de madera se movían por la calle asfaltada buscando posicionarse en el primer lugar. Fred iba en tercera posición muy cerca de los dos primeros, que peleaban por la primera posición. El chico buscaba hacer menos fricción con el viento para ganar más velocidad y hundía la cabeza casi por completo en su carrito.
Empezó a acercarse a los dos primeros y sentía su adrenalina fluir en cada movimiento del volante. Llegaba hasta el segundo, quien lo miraba con desdén y soltaba una risa maléfica, luego movía el carrito hacia Fred para hacerlo estrellar. El chico valiente y su "Rayo veloz" aguantaron la embestida, ganaba más velocidad y Fred pasaba al segundo lugar, ahora iba a una cazar al primero.
La gente gritaba ante la emoción de la carrera y la madre de Fred veía el desarrollo de la carrera con un palpitar acelerado de su corazón. Fred estaba a unos cuánto centímetros del primero y vio que se acercaban a una cueva cerrada, era la oportunidad perfecta para pasar al primero, pero la maniobra era muy arriesgada.
Si frenaba muy tarde podría chocar y quedar fuera de la competencia, debía ser en el momento justo para pasar al primero. Fred se arriesgaba y tomó la curva sin frenar hasta el momento indicado, en ese momento paso al primero, pero miraba que su "Rayo veloz" se acercaba peligrosamente a los cubos de paja.
Frenaba con toda su fuerza y luego giró el volante lo más que pudo, era una lucha entre la fuerza centrífuga y el chico. El sudor corría por la frente de Fred y parecía que terminaría en los cubos de paja, en el último instante corrigió y pasaba cerca de la tragedia, retomó la recta de la pendiente que mostraba la meta, el final estaba a unos cuantos metros.
Fred iba primero, pero debido a su frenazo intempestivo, su "Rayo veloz" perdió velocidad y sus perseguidores lo iban a alcanzar. El chico estaba tan cerca de llegar solo unos metros más, pero sus rivales lo alcanzaron a tan solo 50 metros de la meta, los tres carritos iban uno a lado de otro.
Ya no había más tiempo de maniobrar, sería el carrito con mejor aerodinámica el que se alzaría con el triunfo. Se acercaban los tres bólidos a la meta, iban tan juntos que no se sabía quién iba a ganar. La velocidad y los nervios se apoderaban de la mente de Fred y miró la meta en el horizonte.
Empezó a gritar. «¡Vamos Rayo!, ¡vamos Rayo! Ñem, ñem...». Luego todo paso en cámara lenta, Fred miraba a la gente aplaudir, gritar lentamente y luego de unos segundos los tres carritos pasaron la meta. Los carritos perdían velocidad y se detenían lentamente.
La madre de Fred llegaba hasta el niño y su "Rayo veloz", abrazaba y acariciaba a su hijo y le decía: "Muy bien hecho, hijo, que carrera tan emocionante, estoy orgullosa de ti».
«Gracias, mami, pero, ¿quién ganó?», preguntaba Fred mientras salía del carrito.
Los jueces miraron el photofinish y un hombre algo y desgarbado tomaba el micrófono. «El ganador por una punta es...» el anunciador hacía una pausa dramática, mientras los chicos abrían los ojos al máximo de sus cuencas. «Fred Carbis y su "Rayo veloz"».
El chico no podría creerlo, saltaba y reía, una felicidad inmensa lleno todo su pequeño ser y la madre abrazaba a Fred.
«Estupenda carrera, Fred, pero ahora te enfrentarás a mí y no será tan sencillo. Jajaja». El campeón daba media vuelta y se iba hacia la colina.
Fin
Link to page: https://images.ai/
Edited by Rincón Poético.
Text authored by:
Camilo Torres
DRA
¡Thanks for you reading!
The suspense at the end got my heart hammering. I would have felt bad if he didn't win after pulling such stunts to stay ahead. This was lovely to read. A happy weekend to you✨
Thanks for passing and leaving your comment. I'm so glad you liked the story and that you liked the story.
Happy new week.
It's a pleasure. A beautiful new week to you too.
Hola @rinconpoetico7, mis saludos.
Bien simpática la historia, me imaginaba a la madre orgullosa, felicitando al hijo.
De hecho me recordó un hecho de mi infancia.
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@rinconpoetico7! You Are Alive so I just staked 0.1 $ALIVE to your account on behalf of @ osomar357. (2/10)
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Thank you for stopping by and leaving your kind comment. I am very glad that it reminded you of your childhood, when a work has that power to generate memories it is a great satisfaction for the author because moved an intimate fiber of the reader.
A hug @osomar357
Excellent start week.
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STOPCan one feel breathless about a child's go cart race? You prove it's possible. We experience the rush of adrenaline, the insecurity, the surge of confidence. We experience the momentary crisis in the race, and the final tension as the photo finish throws the outcome into doubt. Fred's mother, with her hearty breakfast is a convincing character as is the child himself.
It's quite a challenge as a writer to adopt the perspective of a child, but you manage it well here.
Thank you for sharing this story with us, @rinconpoetico7.
Thank you for your beautiful comment. I really liked making this story and I shared it with great emotion in our beautiful group.
A hugs @theinkwell
Excellent start week.