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He never got tired of seeing it. Even sitting still, it looked fast! It was so beautiful. So glorious. So unsupervised!

Just as he had that first day at the track, he jumped onto the hood, onto the roof, and rolled into the driver’s seat. This time, he was careful not to get his foot tangled in the window net!

He picked up the pieces of the driver’s special seat belt, the “five-point harness.” It was a fascinating system: all the straps and connections that kept the driver safe. Revver remembered his ride in the car, being stuck against the back and then falling on his nose. He wondered if anyone could make a five-point harness for a squirrel.

He inspected every inch of the car. He touched and turned and wiggled absolutely everything. He went to the back, behind the driver’s seat, behind the metal can, which he now knew was called the “fire bottle.” He pretended the car was speeding around the track, just like that first day.

He kept exploring the inside of the car. He prodded and poked. He sat on the wheel well on the driver’s side and slid down, like a little slide. He did it again. Then again. That time, OUCH! He felt a zap! He was confused. I must have sat on a bee! He looked for the bee while he rubbed the stingy feeling out of his bottom but didn’t see one. He shrugged. I guess it flew away, he thought.

Then Revver went back up to the front seat of the car. He flipped a switch. He pushed a button. He flipped and pushed and pressed more things. R-rrrrrrrrrrrr! Something made the car roar to life! It surprised him, but it was AMAZING! The sound echoed through the garage. Oh, it’s magical! he decided. He jumped down to the gas pedal on the floor, and the engine roared louder. I just love that sound!

He was dying to make it move! He wanted so badly to go fast again! But he knew he wasn’t big enough to work the shifter by the seat with the clutch and the pedals on the floor. Bill had explained it to him: the driver had to work all of it together to make it go. Maybe tomorrow, Revver could try asking Bill to let him ride in the back, like he had that first day. Hopefully, Bill would be in a better mood tomorrow.

With the engine still racing, Revver jumped out the window opening.

There, in a corner, was what the team called a “creeper”—a little sled with wheels that some of the crew used to work under the cars. This gave Revver an AWESOME idea! He pushed it forward as he ran along behind, and then he jumped on. It rolled a few feet. “Vrooooom!” said Revver, imagining that he was driving a race car, moving ahead in the final turn.

I want to go faster! Revver decided to try a longer run. He pushed the creeper with his front paws and ran farther and faster before he jumped on. This time, he was able to get up some real speed! “Woo-hoo!” he squealed, imagining crossing the finish line to a checkered flag. Revver looked around for an even better, longer runway. He pushed some things out of the way until he had the perfect, clear space for a long, LONG run. He started up again: push-run, push-run, push-run, JUMP ON! He glided on the creeper, loving the feeling of air blowing through his whiskers!

Uh-oh! Revver bailed off just before the creeper hit the concrete wall ahead of him. The momentum threw him backward, and Revver went flying through the air, end over end over end—right into a tall rolling cart full of tools.

Bash!

Clankety!

Clang!

Clash!

Kaboom!

Revver, the cart, and the tools all crashed to the ground.

Revver heard a click, and a light went on. He heard someone yell, “WHAT IN THE . . . ?”

And there, with bulging eyes and a dark-red face, stood Grumpy Jack! Now he did not just look grumpy—he looked MAD.

Uh-oh, Revver thought. Jack’s eyes met Revver’s for a split second. Revver saw the veins on Jack’s forehead, vibrating like branches in the wind. Jack made a grab for Revver’s neck. Revver ducked just in time.

The white machine had continued leaking, and now the water started oozing under the door and into the main garage, soaking the shiny floor. Revver started running, feeling the cold water on his paws. Jack ran after him. More lights flicked on. All around him, Revver could see that crew members were running in, yelling as they stumbled over tools.

Jack almost caught Revver again, but Revver zigzagged. This time, Jack slipped and fell on the wet floor. Jack yelled again, and it was the loudest yell Revver had ever heard anything make, almost as loud as his own. Revver wanted to turn to look, but he didn’t dare. Revver heard Jack get up and start the chase again. Revver kept running, zigzagging every which way and climbing and jumping where he could, just like Mama had taught him.

Then Revver thought about Bill. Where was Bill? Bill could help him! Revver lost focus for a fraction of a second while he considered this, and then Revver couldn’t breathe! Jack had caught him! He gripped Revver TIGHT around the neck, squeezing hard.

Jack was screaming at Revver. The car was roaring. The crew was yelling. Tools and equipment clanked and bashed. Revver caught the quickest sight of Bill, looking confused—and maybe even a little scared. Their eyes met just as Jack took Revver to the door, threw him into the air, and kicked him HARD across the rear with a steel-toe boot. Now Revver’s yelping added to the chaos.

Revver landed, rolled, and came to a stop a long way from the garage. It was dark outside, except for a little bit of moonlight. He rubbed his bottom, which was now sore from the zap! AND the kick.

Revver sat, trying to sort his thoughts, when a horrible, familiar smell caught his attention. Revver looked up. There, standing right in front of him, was Farty.

“Revver, you have to come with us RIGHT NOW. Lick!”

“He means ‘quick.’”

“I mean lick-spit!”

“He means ‘lickety-split.’”

Bounce had appeared. Revver was still trying to collect himself and make sense of the last few minutes. “But h-how d-did you know where to find me?”

“It was easy.”

“Mama helped us.”

“B-but how did she know where I’d be?”

“Mama said, ‘Just listen for trouble, and you’ll find Revver.’”

“And here you are.”