American Girl (Indiana)(Lea Sheryn) The newspaper clipping fell out of the scrapbook when the elderly woman removed it from the shelf. Struggling to bend, she picked up the yellowed journal and gazed upon the headline. Even after so many years, a tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek.
Buck Rhodes was a fine man. When she was a young girl, barely out of her teens, he escorted her to all of Indianapolis's social affairs. He made her feel like the grandest lady in town when he took her arm and walked her home from church. The only thing she did not admire about him was his obsession with fast cars.
Ready to take any dare, Buck challenged anyone with a motorcar to race against him. Whether on a city street or country lane, he was prepared to take off like a shot at a moment's notice. Lena Walsh cautioned him against speeding, particularly with her in the car.
"One of these days, you're going to get yourself killed," Lena remarked, leaning in the roadster's open window. "I won't go driving with you again."
Hugging herself tightly around the middle, Lena walked away. The road stretched out long in front of her. They had driven miles outside Indianapolis on that Sunday afternoon. When they pulled up behind another roadster filled with young men, Buck challenged them to a race. Without warning, he pushed the accelerator to the floor and roared along the dirt road, throwing up dust.
The other car kept up the pace. The young men hung out of the windows, hooting and hollering. Buck gripped the steering wheel tightly and fixed his eyes intently on the road ahead. Lena recognized the glare of determination in his eyes. The speedometer inched up to 50mph, then 60. The roadster remained beside them. Buck hitched himself forward in his seat and focused his eyes on the horizon. The speedometer hit 70 and 80.
Lena braced herself and hung onto her hat. She felt the wind lift it and clamped her hand down tighter. The roadster continued to gain speed. The other car fell behind, yet Buck continued to accelerate. Lena shouted for him to stop.
Finally, Buck slammed on the brakes. The tires kicked up dirt, and the car spun. As it spun, it pivoted on two wheels. Lena felt the car tilt, and she screamed. It landed on its side, the wheels still spinning.
"You okay?" one of the young men asked, rushing to the vehicle.
Buck raised himself through the window and then turned to assist Lena. She glared at him menacingly and refused his assistance. Instead, she pulled herself out of the car. Standing on the side of the road, she straightened her pelisse dress and adjusted her hat.
"Not a scratch on me," Buck boasted, grinning from ear to ear.
"Speak for yourself," Lena muttered, dusting off her clothes.
"That was some race," the first young man exclaimed. "Cade Kellaway." He stuck out his hand.
"Buck Rhodes." He grasped the hand heartily and shook it. Noticing he hadn't introduced her, Lena snorted and turned away.
"This is Denver Marks and Willy Kerr." Cade indicated his companions. "That was some real fancy driving. Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Practice." Buck grinned, slapping Cade on the back. "How about a hand turning my sassy lady back on four wheels?"
"Sure, Mister," Denver exclaimed. The three young men righted the roadster while Buck stood by watching. After lauding over Buck for several moments, they climbed into their own car and sped away.
When Buck finally turned toward Lena, she had begun walking toward Indianapolis. He pulled his roadster beside her and paced his speed with her footsteps. Leaning out the window, he grinned at her, flashing his perfect white teeth.
"Come on, baby, get in." Reaching across the passenger seat, he pushed the door open.
Lena spun and slammed it closed. Embracing herself tightly around the waist, she plodded along the dirt road. Buck continued to cajole her to get in. She shot him a cold stare and continued to walk. Finally, she reached a paved road.
"What's the matter, baby?" Buck tried again.
Lena stopped and swung toward him. She gripped the window opening and poked her face into the roadster.
"You could have gotten us killed," she snarled angrily.
"Killed?" Buck laughed. "You exaggerate."
"I'm not exaggerating, Buck," Lena declared, hands on hips. "I was watching the speedometer. You weren't far from 100mph when you hit the brakes. I'm surprised we weren't killed or crushed."
"Ha-ha. Women!" Buck exclaimed. "Live a little, Lena."
"That's exactly what I want to do," Lena countered hotly. "Live! Maybe a little longer, at least." Tossing her head, she walked onward.
"Just get in, and I'll take you home," Buck offered, swinging the passenger door open again.
"Not on your life, Buck Rhodes," she shouted, slamming the door hard. "I will never ride with you again. Don't ask me."
Lena walked along the road's shoulder. She kept her head high and her stride long. When she began to feel exhausted, she straightened her shoulders and marched on boldly. She would never admit to becoming weary or that it was a long way back to Indianapolis. Finally, she stopped at a crossroads next to a bus stop sign.
"What are you doing now?" Buck asked, pulling up beside her.
"Waiting for a bus, what does it look like?" Lena snapped, tapping her foot rapidly.
"You might have a long wait," he tried, his grin plastered on his face. "Get in." When he opened the door, she pushed it shut again.
"I won't have long to wait," Lena declared, indicating the road. A bus trundled along in the distance.
Defeated, Buck remained at the side of the road until Lena boarded the vehicle. He followed behind for a while before pulling out and hitting the accelerator. The roadster whizzed past, stirring up dust. Lena crunched down in her seat, hoping no one would realize her acquaintance with the lunatic.
Lena finally exited the bus a block from her home. Much to her chagrin, the roadster sat outside the white picket fence. Bracing herself, she approached. Buck leaped out and offered her a bouquet of roses. She stepped around him briskly.
Buck put his hand on her arm at the door, halting her. He offered the roses again. Reluctantly, Lena accepted them.
"My sincere apologies, ma'am." Buck bowed at the waist humbly.
"I'm not riding with you again, Buck," Lena stated mildly. "I don't like going at high rates of speed or racing."
"Okay, I promise, no more racing," Buck replied sincerely. Lena did not notice him crossing his fingers behind his back.
"Well, I…" Lena hesitated, considering her options. She liked Buck; he made her feel good when they were together. The only thing she objected to was his racing. A part of her wanted to say yes, but still, she wavered. "No, Buck, I can't," she finally decided.
Buck grabbed her arm, but Lena avoided him. Opening the front door, she skirted into the house and closed it firmly behind her. Her father stared at her over his newspaper's rim, and her mother came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Whatever's happened to you?" her mother asked, opening her eyes wide.
Lena glanced down at her dress. A layer of dust covered it and turned her black shoes yellow. A portion of her loosened chignon fell across her face. She swiped it away angrily.
"I walked most of the way home," she declared, racing toward the stairs. "I took the bus the rest of the way."
"What happened to Buck?" her father asked, folding his paper neatly.
"Buck who?" Lena asked, swerving toward the parlor. "If you mean Buck Rhodes, I don't know him anymore."
"That doesn't tell us what happened, dear," her mother prompted.
"Racing!" Lena declared. "That's what happened. He turned that roadster over, braking at 100mph." Her face grew hot, her cheeks flaring with color. "With me in the car!"
Sinking onto the ottoman, Lena covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Her mother touched her shoulder comfortingly.
"I'm never going to see him again!" she declared fiercely.

******

Weeks passed. Buck Rhodes appeared at the Walsh house every other day. He plied her with flowers and candy. Lena continued to refuse to go driving with him. She thought he would eventually become frustrated and leave her alone.
Instead, he wore her down. Buck continued to beg and plead with Lena. He finally promised his racing days were over. They drove out of town sedately when he picked her up on Sunday afternoon. He found a nice spot beside a river for a picnic. After they ate, they strolled along the riverbank hand-in-hand.
Lena enjoyed her day out. Buck was the perfect gentleman. At the end of the day, he returned her to her home and walked her to the front door. Lena kissed him before saying goodbye. She felt better about Buck. They had passed several cars out Sunday driving, and he never challenged one of them. His driving had improved, and he kept his speed to the required minimum.
When Lena went to work on Monday morning, she noticed a flyer in the drugstore window. She read it carefully.

Indianapolis Motor Speedway
Greatest Race Course in the World
Presents 500 Mile Race
Around a 2 ½ Mile Oval
May 30th, 1911
World's Fastest Drivers

"Good morning, sweetheart," Buck Rhodes stated, slinging his arm across her shoulder. He kissed her cheek. "Set your gaze on that." He directed her eyes back to the posted flyer.
"I've already seen it, Buck," Lena remarked dourly.
"Excellent." His white teeth flashed in his habitual grin.
"Certainly, you're not considering entering that race," Lena returned anxiously.
"No." Buck rocked back on his ears, his smile still plastered across his face.
"Good." Lena confidently returned his smile.
"Already signed up," her boyfriend answered smugly.
"Buck! You promised!" She couldn't help her indignation.
"No more street racing, I promise," he answered, raising his hand, palm outward. "This is the real deal, sweetheart." He tightened his arm around her shoulders and drew her toward the sign. "Look, it says 'World's Fastest Drivers.' Who do you think that is? Me, Buck Rhodes." He jabbed his broad chest with his thumb.
Lena stared at her companion blankly. Buck hadn't changed a bit after all his promises and good behavior. She felt sorry she could never believe him or believe in him. He would never change.
"I don't want you driving in that race, Buck," she stated meditatively. "I don't like it."
"I would like you to go with me, Lena," Buck asked. "Say you will."
"Certainly not!" she announced. Spinning on her heels, she stormed along the sidewalk. Briskly, she opened the 5&10s door and entered.
Lena took her place behind the cosmetics counter. She served her first customer, then noticed Buck leaning against a shelf nearby. He remained there for most of the morning. Finally, fed up with the situation, she informed her boss of the annoyance Buck created. Mr. Seely asked him to leave.
Untrue to her word, Lena found herself at the speedway on May 30th. Her father wanted to see the race and insisted his wife and daughter accompany them. When Buck noticed her in the stands, he waved to her. Motioning him to join them, she gave him her neckerchief and tied it around his neck.
"For luck," she stated, kissing him.
Buck kissed her back and ran toward his car. The race began, and the cars formed a pack as they sped around the curves. After a few rounds, several vehicles broke from the pack and spurred ahead. Buck Rhodes' car was one of them.
Lena leaned forward in her seat. Buck had surged forward, only four other cars in contention with him. She crossed her fingers tightly and began to urge him onward. Her heart palpitated in anticipation. Suddenly, she gripped her father's arm and shouted along with him. The excitement overtook her.
Buck raced side-by-side with a competing car. Only two others took the lead. Lena chanted encouragement from the stands. Then, suddenly, the cars' sides collided. Buck Rhodes spun out of control. His vehicle rose into the air and flipped. It landed, then skidded on its side. The explosion sent waves of heat over the crowded stands.
For a moment, Lena could not believe her eyes. For a distance, fire sirens squealed, and the rescue trucks sped onto the speedway. She leaned onto her father's shoulder and sobbed. No one could survive the fatal crash.
Fifty years later, Lena folded the yellow newspaper clipping and replaced it in her scrapbook. There was no one quite like Buck Rhodes, she thought, sighing. His memory lived on and on in her mind.
"I loved you, Buck Rhodes," she whispered, stroking the velvety book cover. "I wish I'd told you when I was young." A tear trickled down her cheek, and she swiped it away quickly. "You were so full of life and adventure. I wish I'd shared your enthusiasm."

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