Chapter 12 — After the Race
Sunday, March 16th, 2009
The race was over. The engine noise had faded, the adrenaline had settled, and the paddock was slowly beginning to pack up. But in front of the small wooden podium, a crowd had gathered. A simple checkered flag banner fluttered in the wind behind it. There were no fireworks, no champagne, but for Alex, it might as well have been a Formula 1 podium.
He stood beside the steps, helmet tucked under one arm, still catching his breath. A race official handed him a small but shiny trophy, then nodded toward the center step.
Farid climbed onto the third-place step. Sven took second. Alex stepped up to the top.
A few claps broke out, followed by more, until the small crowd was applauding in earnest. Some of the other parents even whistled. Cameras clicked. Alex squinted into the sunlight. He spotted Willem and Miriam near the fence. His mother had both hands to her face, eyes brimming with tears. His father raised a fist and gave a proud cheer.
Victor stood off to the side, arms crossed, just nodding. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Sven looked over at Alex and gave him a small nod—not a full smile, but respectful. "Nice driving," he said under his breath.
Alex only nodded back. His heart was still racing.
---
Later, with the karts loaded and the paddock nearly empty, Victor called Alex and his parents over for a quick word.
"You earned that," he said simply, looking directly at Alex. "Clean, patient, smart driving. That's the kind of performance that wins races."
Alex didn't quite know how to respond. He glanced up at his parents, who both looked like they couldn't believe what they'd just seen.
Victor turned to them. "That was race two of the qualifying series. There are three more. If he finishes consistently in the top five, he'll get an invitation to the regional tournament."
Willem rubbed the back of his neck. "And… that tournament. How serious is it?"
"It's where the top talents get spotted," Victor said. "Not a guarantee of anything, but if he keeps this up, there'll be teams watching. Academies. Scholarships."
Miriam looked worried, but also curious. "He's only six."
"I know," Victor said gently. "And we won't rush. But you deserve to know what's possible."
As they parted ways, Victor added one last thing. "Keep him grounded. Celebrate the effort, not just the win. That's what builds a real racer."
---
The ride home was quiet at first. Alex sat in the back seat, staring out the window. His trophy sat beside him in its cardboard box. Trees blurred past. Clouds rolled over the late afternoon sun.
Willem finally spoke. "That last overtake was something else."
Alex smiled. "Victor said to wait for the right moment. So I did."
"You really love this, don't you?" Miriam asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
Alex nodded. "It feels… right. Like I know what to do when I'm in the kart. Even if I'm nervous."
Willem chuckled. "You didn't look nervous from the fence."
Alex shrugged. "I was. But it gets quieter in there. Simpler."
He looked out the window again, watching the sun dip lower, casting orange light across the rooftops.
---
By the time they reached their apartment complex, the sun was low. Shadows stretched across the sidewalk as they climbed the stairs to their flat. Alex was still clutching the box with his trophy.
Miriam unlocked the door and flicked on the lights. "I'll start dinner. You go change, Alex."
He nodded and headed to his room, but just as he reached for his shirt, there was a knock at the door.
"Alex!" a voice called from the hallway.
He opened the door to see Leo standing there, slightly out of breath, a huge grin on his face.
"You won?! My dad saw the result online!"
Alex grinned back. "Come in."
They went to his room and sat cross-legged on the floor. The trophy box sat between them. Alex carefully opened it and took out the small silver cup.
Leo's eyes widened. "That's so cool. You actually beat them? All of them?"
Alex nodded. "It wasn't easy. The guy in front—Sven—he was fast. But he made a mistake in Turn 5. I stayed close and passed him on Lap 6."
Leo leaned in. "Tell me everything."
So Alex did. From the moment the lights went out, to each corner, each gear shift, the slipstream down the back straight. He even mimicked the switchback move he made in Turn 7 with his hands. Leo listened like it was the most important story he'd ever heard.
"You were really in second the whole time?"
"Until Lap 6. Then I pulled away."
Leo looked down at the trophy. "You think you'll go to that big tournament thing Victor talked about?"
Alex hesitated, then said, "If I keep finishing well. I need more points. But yeah… maybe."
Leo grinned. "You will. I know it."
Alex smiled, then leaned back against the bed. For the first time all day, he let out a deep breath.
"I couldn't believe it when I passed him," he added. "It didn't feel like luck. It felt like… I planned it. Like everything clicked."
They sat in silence for a moment, just two kids with big dreams.
Then Miriam called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
Leo stood up. "I should go. But you better tell me when your next race is."
"I will."
After Leo left, Alex joined his parents at the table. Spaghetti and garlic bread. Comfort food. Safe and warm.
They talked about the race—again. And again. Every detail. Every corner. Willem reenacted Victor's face when Alex took the lead. Miriam laughed, then wiped her eyes.
Later that night, after brushing his teeth and climbing into bed, Alex stared at the ceiling. The trophy sat on his desk, catching a sliver of moonlight.
He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, and dreams full of engines, corners, and checkered flags.
Whatever came next—he was ready.