Stories of the Fuel Speedway (Volume 1)

By Bernard Bayede

Stories of the Fuel Speedway chronicles the lives of the Formula-X racers as they battle it out on the racetrack to see who the best is. Set in the paradise Island Province of Azania in South Africa, meet Auto 1 hero Solo Magubane; the amoral businessman, Thawn Oberhauser; the 19-year-old Darcy Stevens; the family man, John Kloof, the loverboy Jim Kieck and many more as they all vie to become Formula-X King and rule over the South African motorsports Kingdom known as Monday Night Fuel.

The Formula-X racing series not only looks to put classic open wheel racing like Formula One and IndyCar to shame but also put African motorsport on the map through its flagship show, Monday Night Fuel by uniquely blending racing with soap opera drama. So expect action, romance, suspense, love affairs, (sports) politics, betrayal, friendships and rivalries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716253355

Bernard Bayede

Bernard Bayede is a South African author with a taste for out-of-this-world stories of science fiction and fantasy. Born and raised in beachside province of Kwa-Zulu Natal, Bayede has taken his love for sci-fi and fantasy and combined it with an African setting. Bayede has already published his first three books, The Bowman's Apprentice and Other Stories; Ignighted and Planet of the Rings. He is currently working on his fourth book (a sequel to Ignighted) and fifth book, Planet of the Rings Volume 2.

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EPISODE 1: THE ADOMINABLE SEDUCTION

2nd of September – Season 1

Welcome to Monday Night Fuel.

Those were the words that boomed from Moodswing’s mouth as he stood atop the stage that sat right in the middle of the racetrack. But while Moodswing gave the landmark speech that would change the face of the island province of Azania forever, all Solo could think of was his upcoming race . . . and just how many people were about to see it.

Solomon Magubane was an African man in his late twenties. He had quite a large build for a man who spent most of his time in a single-seater open wheel car. But fortunately for him, he was very, very good at what he did. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one. Solo currently stood amongst a dozen of the best racers in Azania, possibly even South Africa. And they were all listening to Moodswing’s speech.

Terrance ‘Moodswing’ Moodley. Call me Moodswing, he’d insist. Solo never understood why this young Indian man liked his name. Then again, everything about Moodswing was different from the norm. The 20-something year old was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and practically handed his father’s million-rand dealership and yet here he stood, trying to start something from scratch with what he called a ‘local sports entertainment franchise’. It would be inspirational except for the fact that he was an asshole.

What an asshole, right? The words spoken to Solo came from a young 20-something year blonde man standing next to him. The man had those boyishly good-looking facial features that made you wonder why he wasn’t a movie star or a Truworths model.  Solo gave him a smirk and a slight nod in agreement. Jim Kieck, said the man, extending his hand.

Solo Magubane.

Jim flashed his pretty boy smile. Solo? Wow, is that your real name? Solo nodded again. Cool. So, who are you racing tonight?

Solo gave the small piece of paper in his hand a quick look. He flinched. He was supposed to know the racecard off by heart by now. It was race night for Heaven’s sake. Brenda Koek, he said, reading out loud.

Ah, said Jim, pointing across the other racers to the young colored woman with blond streaks in her hair. That would be the hottie in brown leather at your ten o’clock.

Solo rolled his eyes. While he could admit that Brenda Koek was quite attractive, even for his down to Earth, natural woman tastes, he wasn’t here to flirt with the competition. But judging from the way that Jim was looking at . . . every woman, he was clearly here to flirt with whomever he could.

Who’s your opponent, Jim? Jim showed the name across from his own on the racecard. Solo smiled seeing the familiar name. You’re racing Touch?

You know this Touch Mkhize guy? This time Solo pointed out the fellow racer. The man Solo pointed to, was a man of average height dressed in a golf shirt, chinos and all stars. "That’s Touch Mkhize? Jim Shrugged. He doesn’t look that tough to me."

Solo scoffed. It’s not about looking tough, it’s about being fast. And trust me, you don’t want to underestimate Touch.

Tonight, is what we’re calling the Royal Tourney, said Moodswing. Solo and Jim had been so busy talking that they’d almost forgotten that Moodswing was still in the middle of his speech. The Royal Tourney is a tournament between these racers that you see before you. A series of one-on-one match races where the winner will be crowned the first ever Formula-X King.

Solo rolled his eyes. Damn Moodswing and his ideas, thought Solo. Solo had known Moodswing since Moodswing was a teenager. Solo knew Moodswing better than he ever wanted to. He knew how he came up with the idea for Formula-X: wrestling meets Formula 1. That’s why they were having these one-on-one races rather than just all going onto the racetrack at the same time like any other open wheel race in the history of the world. But no, Moodswing wanted the pomp. And he wanted the circumstance.

When Moodswing finally finished talking, he handed over the reins to his business partner, Glenwood Jacobs who began organizing the racers for the upcoming races. He organized the first race of the night: Thawn Oberhauser vs. Styles Sithole.

Solo didn’t know much about these racers, but they couldn’t be more different than night and day. While they were dressed in their race suits for their one-on-one race, their civvies spoke volumes about their lives. While Styles dressed in bright green and black leather before the race, Thawn came to Fuel in a three-piece suit.

Solo was too nervous about his own race to watch the ground-breaking contest. However, he was able to hear Thawn’s victory speech following the race in the Winner’s Circle which was broadcast across the Fuel Speedway on the PA system. What you must understand is that I only came here to win. There are no other options for me. So, for me, this was just the first of many. So, to answer your question: this was just the beginning.

Solo knew right then that he hated this guy. He was just too obnoxious. It would be one thing if racing was the only thing that this Thawn Oberhauser did like Solo himself. Instead, Thawn was what they called a gentleman driver: a racer who only raced part time. Then again, so were so many of the others including the next two racers: John Kloof and Penny Potgieter.

While Solo truly meant to watch this race, he ended up being distracted when he caught sight of his opponent, Brenda with a disgusted look on her face. When he followed her eyeline, he saw what she was looking at: Jim Kieck with a woman’s tongue down his throat. Now it was Solo with a disgusted look on his face. Except that where Brenda was disgusted by Jim’s actions, Solo was wondering just what in the hell the woman found attractive about Jim.

Come on, said Brenda who was now standing close to him, I mean I know he’s pretty but… She made a vomiting face.

I take it, you don’t approve, said Solo in an as-a-matter-of-a-fact tone.

It’s not that I don’t see what they’d both find interesting about each other. I do. It’s just, she thought of the right word, so typical.

Solo thought about that for a second before screwing his brow. Typical?

Of men.

Solo scoffed again, amused this time. You think all men are like that?

Brenda looked at him. You’re telling me you’re not? Solo just looked at her. So, when you and the Playboy over there were pointing at me and talking about me, you weren’t discussing my looks?

Solo knew better than to answer that question. I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you or something?

No, not really, she said so nonchalantly it successfully threw Solo off. He wondered if she was messing with him until she smiled, clearly showing that she was. Wow, you take yourself too seriously, has anyone ever told you that?

Yes. Why was she coming at him like this?

Did you not hear anything that Moodswing said earlier? Solo shrugged. This is like a high school playground. Solo drew a blank. He wants us to make things interesting for the people watching.

Solo looked around, confused. There was no one even remotely in ear shot. But there’s no one watching.

Brenda then lifted her phone that she’d strategically hidden from sight that had been recording the whole time. There will be when I upload this onto social media. Brenda reacted to Solo’s blank stare. I’ll edit out that last part. Trust me, this is going to add such heat to our race when they splice it into the replay of our race tonight. Brenda then walked away, proud of what she’d done, leaving Solo dumbfounded.

This place is a circus, said Solo rolling his eyes. But secretly, he found himself enjoying that. After John Kloof came out of his race victorious and gave a touching tribute to his family for his win, Solo made his way to the start line.

His vehicle was already waiting for him, his team having made all the pre-race preparations. His vehicle: a black single-seater with white skull vinyls was a beautiful machine. An all-powerful monster specifically designed for one reason: moving faster than anything in its way. While a white and gold vehicle that looked familiar, belonging to Brenda Koek stood next to it, it held no comparison . . . not to Solo.

As Solo looked at his vehicle, he smiled. He smiled because he knew that he was going to win. It was a done deal. Moodswing could have all the Royal Tourneys he wanted. Whether it was one-on-one or all at once, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that when he got inside his vehicle and put that helmet on, he was getting across the finish line first. The name of his vehicle . . . was The Abominable Seduction.

EPISODE 2: DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH

9th of September – Season 1

Stevie’s pulse was racing as she moved at an incredible speed. Darcy Stevens was known for many things: having a dark, chocolate complexion unique for a colored woman; having a soft spot for coconut-covered snowballs and for being one of the fastest human beings in Southern Africa on open wheels.

As Stevie weaved and bobbed between vehicles, she could feel the adrenaline running through her veins. In the distance background, she could hear the roar of the crowd. Jeez, she thought, it’s just as deafening as last week. She remembered the roar of the crowd as Solo won his race against Brenda Koek – a fellow female race and colored girl to boot. She remembered feeling the same rush as the one-on-one race stole the show. It was like nothing that she or the crowd had ever seen before: two formula racecars going at it mano e mano. No medals, no podiums. Just one winner and one loser.

Stevie finally came to a stop . . . in front of the front doors to the Fuel Speedway. She’d been running. She’d been running because she was late for her first day. At 19 years old, Stevie was too young to remember the old Azania Airport when it was still running. She only knew it as the old airport and knew it to always look dilapidated. So, while she was impressed by how Terrance ‘Moodswing’ Moodley and Glenwood Jacobs had fixed it up, she couldn’t know how it compared to how it looked when it was still functional.

As Stevie walked through the old terminal, she marveled at how it had been turned into a concourse so beautifully. The place was buzzing with patrons buying refreshments from the concession counters and goodies at the merchandise stands. But Stevie didn’t have time for all that. She was meant to meet Glen in the paddock 10 minutes ago. She finally arrived to her team’s designated area to find Moodswing’s business partner waiting by her vehicle, The Candyfloss.

Stevie’s palms were sweaty. This was a big night for her. While most of the F-X racers had the luxury of debuting last week on the premiere episode of Monday Night Fuel in the Royal Tourney, Stevie had been left out. She wasn’t usually a bitter person, but she had to admit . . . not getting a chance to race on the first episode sucked.

Stevie was one of the few racers that didn’t roll her eyes when Moodswing pitched the series as Formula 1 meets pro wrestling. Every episode will have racing and it will have drama, he’d said. This hadn’t gone over well with the other racers, but Stevie got it. She understood it like he did: it’s the shot in the arm that motorsport in South Africa needed. Although Moodswing insisted that it wasn’t motorsport, it’s sports entertainment.

While Moodswing had tried to tell her that her absence from the racecard last week wasn’t a big deal, it was Glen that had convinced her that tonight would more than make up for it. You want me to do what?

A drag race demonstration, said Glen. It’s a drag race except that you don’t have an opponent. Glen saw the skeptical look on Stevie’s face. C’mon, it will be fun.

Stevie rolled her eyes and agreed. She watched as Glen walked off with a smile on his face as he organized the races for the night. With her race set to take place between the two semi-finals of the night, all Stevie was left to do was wait in the paddock area.

The paddock area was where the racers held up before going to the racetracks. One could call it the backstage area to the racetrack’s arena floor. Stevie looked on at the other racers, each seemingly doing something different. The winners from last week who had advanced to the semi-finals were doing their interviews with the Formula-X reporters. The others had found ways to preoccupy themselves.

Touch Mkhize was currently filming some kind of voice over as his vehicle – which he’d named The Moyeni – was being photographed. Styles Sithole – who was once again wearing his famous bright green and black leather jacket – was busy taking selfies. And Penny Potgieter – a tough-looking yet pretty Caucasian female racer – was talking to Brenda Koek who made Formula-X news last week by secretly filming her and Solo’s conversation.

While Brenda had lost the race, the video had gone viral gaining Brenda valuable fans. It turned out, Brenda had figured out that half of the game was popularity because she’d even been commended by Moodswing himself. Stevie found her thoughts suddenly interrupted by 2 fellow racers and local Ngelosi boys she’d known almost her whole life.

So, what are you going to call yourself? Stevie was lost. Long John Jele (which was the name on his I.D.) was a 30-year-old African man with youthful features that complimented his sometimes-juvenile mind. His 26-year-old brother, Luthando Jele, was so similar, they were usually mistaken for twins. This wasn’t helped when Long John adopted the name Longitude and his brother adopted the name Latitude, further driving people to mistake them for twins.

Latitude noticed the confusion on her face. Your nickname, wena.

I already have a nickname. It was true. Despite being the second born, after her older brother, Darcy was the one who’d taken to being called Stevie – a play on her last name while her Navy Sailor brother garnered the nickname of Tar.

Nah-ah, said Longitude. Sorry little girl, but ‘Stevie’ is not going to cut it. Moodswing wants us each to have a nickname: something he can put on a poster.

Stevie squinted her eyes. I think Moodswing might be taking this wrestling thing a little too far. Even though Stevie was the one that was mocking the idea, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by it. It made sense. If the idea behind the one-on-one races was to bring individual attention to each of the racers, then shouldn’t they each have an identity to differentiate them from each other? But that still left one question: what was she going to call herself?

As Stevie thought about this, there was suddenly a roar from the crowd. She looked at the closest of the multiple big screens in the paddock and saw that Thawn Oberhauser was about to take on John Kloof in a 10 Lap Match Race. Stevie remembered how she felt about Thawn’s Winner’s Circle interview last week. He was so obnoxious as compared to John Kloof – a humble mechanic trying to make some more money doing something he’s good at: racing.

The race was an adrenaline rush as Thawn’s black and red vehicle with gold accents – named The Devil’s Advocate led John Kloof’s vehicle, The Big Boot in the first couple of laps only for John to pull ahead after the halfway mark. However, in the end, the obnoxious one picked up the win. It was Thawn’s second Winner’s Circle interview that brought her attention back to her nickname when Thawn called himself The Impaler to the jeers of the crowd.

Longitude looked at her, self-righteously. You see, you see?

Stevie rolled her eyes as Glen approached her. Okay Stevie, you’re on next. As you get ready, we’ll be airing a video package.

Longitude and Latitude were within earshot and got curious. A video package of what? Their question was answered when the crowd became excitedly restless. Stevie and the brothers looked up at the big screen and saw a documentary style interview with Jim Kieck going on about his normal life. He was set to take on Solo after her drag demonstration, so it made sense that they were promoting him. Stevie couldn’t help but laugh when the video went on to follow Jim on one of his dates like some dating show.

Latitude was the one that asked the question. Okay… why?

Glen answered. Moodswing really wants to sell the sports entertainment element, which means drama. If you guys won’t create it amongst yourselves, he’ll manufacture it via documentary. Glen then turned to Stevie. Speaking of Moodswing, he wants to know if you have a nickname for the announcer when you come out.

Stevie thought for a moment. How about ‘The Diamond’? Yeah, the Diamond of F-X.

There was a beat before Longitude and Latitude burst out laughing. Yeah, said Latitude, "more like the Diamond in the Rough."

Longitude added. C’mon, Stevie. You can’t call yourself the Diamond of F-X. You weren’t even in the Royal Tourney.

Yeah well, said Stevie, fired up now, neither were you two!

Glen pulled her aside. Okay, okay. I’ll let the announcer know. You just get ready.

As Stevie went to get ready for her demonstration, she saw Longitude and Latitude whispering amongst themselves before scurrying off somewhere. Well good riddance, thought Stevie. She didn’t need to be thinking about the two of them right now. She needed to concentrate on the quarter mile of road ahead of her and her vehicle.

The Candyfloss was so named because of its color: passion pink. She hated pink. So of course, it was ironically the color of her vehicle. However, she then named it after one of the only 2 things pink she could stand in the world: candy floss (seeing as she couldn’t very well call it The Snowball). As she prepared for the race, sitting inside her car, the voices of the capacity crowd dulled out by her helmet, sitting snug on her head, she thought about the next minute of her life.

Drag racing in a formula-style single-seater is not unheard of but still very unique. Moodswing and Glen made it clear that what was unique in the world of open wheel racing was going to be their specialty. But this wasn’t Stevie’s first drag race, so she was aware of what she needed to do: steady her breathing, calm her nerves, visualize the win. Unfortunately, she was taken out of the moment when she heard the announcer’s voice, booming from the PA system: And now, standing at the starting line, ladies and gentlemen, the Diamond in the Rough, Daaaaaarcy Steeeeeevens!

Damn it. Stevie didn’t need to be a detective to know who set this up. Longitude and Latitude! Damn it. Damn them. But Stevie didn’t have time to let their nonsense get into her head. She needed positive thoughts . . . Diamond in the rough, huh? Okay. She could use that. Yes, sure. She could use that as fuel to push herself; to drive herself to proving that she really was the diamond around here. She was going to show them it was a mistake to not include her in the Royal Tourney. She was going to show them all who she was.

EPISODE 3: SPEAK OF THE DEVIL

16th of September – Season 1

Thawn Oberhauser had never been accused of being the nicest person in the world. And there was a reason for that: he never tried to be nice. Nice people finished last. That wasn’t just a nifty catchphrase for Thawn, it was a way of life. Being nice was a weakness. It allowed people to take you lightly.

Thawn was a businessman by day, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had never really known what it was like to be without money. Everything about him spoke to his riches. In fact, the only thing he owned that didn’t immediately tell you that he was from money was the dark blue Chevrolet 1970s Impala that he drove. It was partially what inspired him to choose the nickname, The Impaler. The other reason was because he liked being compared to Dracula.

Thawn was dressed in his three-piece suit when he arrived at the Fuel Speedway. The other racers always looked at him funny for doing this. And he understood. For them, this was a part-time gig. They were moonlighting. While that was also the case for Thawn, he still chose to take this seriously. Despite his business partners thinking him a fool for partaking in what they called a circus, Thawn believed that there was money to be made here. Unlike most of the other F-X racers, he could see Moodswing’s vision of putting wrestling and formula 1 together. It was so unique that it was destined to be a success.

Thawn was currently seated across from Solo Magubane atop a stage, behind a table in front of a small crowd of the local press. It was the press conference for their feature race at Arbour Games where they would face off for the Formula-X Crown. Moodswing had gone all out to make this a genuine experience: camera, microphones going so far as to have one of the boardrooms of the old airport converted into the Fuel Conference Centre.

Thawn’s mind suddenly snapped to the present and he realized that one of the reporters had asked him a question. Come again, said Thawn.

I said what makes you believe that you’re a better racer than your opponent, Solo Magubane?

Thawn almost smiled at the question. "You mean other than the obvious: that I just am? Well let’s see, how about the fact that I take this seriously. I mean look at how I’m dressed: like a champi—no, like a king. Now look at how he’s dressed."

Indeed, Solo was dressed in a black leather biker jacket, a henley sweater and jeans. But Solo could speak for himself. This is not about how I’m dressed, Impaler. This is about how I move on the blacktop. And I. Move faster. Than you.

Is that so?

You’re nothing but a gentleman driver. Me, I do this for a living. You’re a part-timer; a moonlighter.

So is everyone else in the series, that doesn’t make you better. said Thawn, firing back. But if you think you are better then why don’t you take me on right now!

Thawn was now standing, having had enough.  By the time Solo stood up as well, Moodswing and Glen Jacobs had made their way up to the stage and held them apart as the reporters gasped… with glee at the opportunity of seeing these two, fight. But Moodswing wasn’t in the mood of betraying the one rule he had for the speedway: no fights – at all. Every and all issues were to be handled on what the racers called the blacktop: the asphalt racetrack.

"No, no, no! said Moodswing with authority. This is not what’s going to happen, he said gaining a measure of control between them. Here is what’s going to happen. Moodswing was now speaking to the camera, the reporters as well as them. You two are not going to ruin my feature race for the first Formula-X pay-per-view. You two are going to show what F-X is all about: leaving it all out there. Moodswing pointed out the window, which stood over the speedway itself. And you’re going to do it in a race, tonight!"

Thawn and Solo smiled. So, they were going to get what they wanted: a chance to face each other tonight. Except that wasn’t the case as Moodswing proved his love for wrestling by finishing off his statement … as partners in a relay race. All Thawn could think was: what the hell is a relay race!?

LATER THAT NIGHT

Thawn nearly went flying into the barricade as he came around the backstretch bend at 120km/h. However, all Thawn could think about – besides the heat building inside his helmet – was whether Solo was impressed with what he was seeing. As Thawn balanced his car out on the straight, accelerating back to 200km/h, he checked his rearview mirror to see if Jim Kieck was still a car length behind him. It was important that he was so that when he made the handover to Solo, that Solo had enough breathing room to maintain the lead.

A relay race was one of the more unique races in Formula-X. It, combined relay running (or swimming) with the already established match racing of Formula-X. With two racers on each team, teammates would alternate laps until all 20 laps were completed. What made this type of race interesting was that typically, a racer on one team would continuously compete with the same racer on the other team (unless overlapped)