There were stories written ’bout him. Small town news covered his career. Every race he won and some that he lost had ink to em. Car races and church chicken dinners were a staple in the Morocco newspaper. He’d kept all the black and whites of him and his car in his shop hanging next to the Snap-on calendar and various photos of women holding wrenches and power tools. Grease smeared the pages.

His garage was out close to 41. Used to take cars out for test drives up and down the highway at top rate speeds. If you dropped your car off at Chuck’s, you could rest assured it’d get a good workout. He’d race it up north towards Lake Village, then turn around and race it home; to him everything was a race. Women especially; bragged ’bout getting more ass than a toilet seat.

Yes, he loved the women. And, every Friday night he had a different one. Some folks say he went through the entire female population of Newton County in one season. Folks say a lot of things.

He was in love once. Just once. She was the president of the Lion’s Club Chapter’s daughter. Young blonde who should’ve known better. Some say he should’ve known better. He’d pick her up after her job at the Family Dollar store. Took her out for a dinner at the Gold Star diner. Then off to the races where she’d hoot and holler throughout the night on every straightaway and left turn. He’d sense her presence. Couldn’t see or hear her in the stands, but, he could feel her. She was real.

Those summers and falls lasted awhile. He asked the young lady to marry him. Had a vision of them riding from church to Chicago for their honeymoon in his beat up Dodge race car. It was just a dream. She turned him down. And that’s when his heart left him. Left him with a blonde walking down the street. She told him she couldn’t take a small town race car driver seriously. Told him he was just for fun. You marry insurance salesmen, not mechanics who race on the weekends, she said.

He was just for fun. That’s all. And, he was convinced he was nothing more. Just fun. That’s all anyone is he guessed;

Years later she married that insurance salesman. Moved down the road to Lowell. Chuck just stayed behind and had fun.