A Lion’s Smile

    He was a nameless man at his job, just part of the help. The only names remembered were the racers who won illegal cash prizes. Somehow, they were to be remembered and even cheered for while the help who made sure they’d be alive to be announced as winners in an underground scheme were

forgotten.

    Mark Jones was a name everyone would remember. He was a young guy with untamed, golden hair and green eyes that shut close with his cheeky grin. The help made it a point not to yield in the racers’ glory but this man couldn’t forget his name even if he tried, for he was his help. He worked on Mark’s beloved Mazda RX-9 which he spent the last three years modifying. Wrapped in an obnoxious red with customized rims, it was a car almost anyone in their city would kill for. It was a perfectly disruptive car for an overbearingly disruptive guy.

    This man spoke to Mark before every race, signing off on his car’s inspection but he doubts the racer even knows his name, as he makes it a point to never say it. Without fail, after every stamp of approval, all the nameless man receives is a smile full of teeth while Mark tells him “Thanks, man! Wish me luck!”

Maybe it shouldn’t have felt so condescending but after three years, he still calls him “man”, asking him to wish him luck. Today he was too fed up to even bother. He goes on to clean his workstation, muttering curses to himself until the race is over and he can do a final inspection on “Prince”, as Mark named “him”. Even the stupid car has a name.

    It wasn’t until later that night the man learned about the accident. Mark crashed during his U-turn and was pronounced dead on the scene. The fans cried over the incredibly young boy while even the racers wasted no time revving their car engines in his memory. The broker who was familiar with Mark who won all the cash prizes approached the nameless man, handing him an envelope left by Mark. Inside, were the keys to his beloved Mazda– Prince, along with a post-it. “Thanks for all your help, Chris. Prince is all yours. I wouldn’t trust him with anyone else.” Even though he could imagine his cheeky grin, he didn’t have to, for Mark had drawn it for him.

    It wasn’t until later that night the man learned about the accident. Mark crashed during his U-turn and was pronounced dead on the scene. The fans cried over the incredibly young boy while even the racers wasted no time revving their car engines in his memory. The broker who was familiar with Mark who won all the cash prizes approached the nameless man, handing him an envelope left by Mark. Inside, were the keys to his beloved Mazda– Prince, along with a post-it. “Thanks for all your help, Chris. Prince is all yours. I wouldn’t trust him with anyone else.” Even though he could imagine his cheeky grin, he didn’t have to, for Mark had drawn it for him.