Axel Todd

The first interval

Sunday is the day Axel Todd has breakfast with his daughter Lena, assuming the quick text he sends before breakfast does not get somebody else to send him a question. The two of them have a custom of buttering toast while it is too hot to hold. Lena devised a little stand out of her fork and a mug. Axel keeps balancing the slice on his fingertips until she points at the fork. When he was busy teaching her how to stay clear of the toaster, she was quietly teaching him something he had more use for.

The volunteer hall in Fernwood Hollow kept him fed as a boy. His aunt sold tickets for matinees and let him carry tea into the light booth. Axel has been back as manager long enough to know which doors can make a late arrival blush. At folk nights he leaves a seat where a person can come in from the side. He likes running a room people want to sit in. The minute everyone is settled, he finds a chore three rooms away and misses the first song.

The empty chair test

He brought Lena to the DGM paddock the week the McLaren W1 finally had a family slot on the closed practice course. She'd been asking to come along while she was still young enough to ride with him to Fernwood and back without friends asking where she'd been. The first thing she asked for was a chair. He saw four folding chairs by the rail, two with bad feet, and immediately volunteered to look at the set. She sat on the curb while he disappeared to find a wrench and came back holding a box of different jobs.

An open box of brackets belonged to Jesse Pink-Man. Axel set it clear of the hose and helped mark a useful blank. Then somebody else promised Axel a bolt for the chairs if he could shift a supply tote. When they called for his preparation check, the front wheel on the W1 was still waiting for his hand. Nick Torque asked if he wanted the slot held. Lena asked if Axel wanted to know how it felt to be promised five minutes by him.

A door that shut

Axel drives the McLaren best when he can picture the whole string of bends before the first one. Under a rushed call he will nail one movement and spoil the next by steering at it before his eyes get there. He and Lena started the next day with a close check and a route note at the bench. Only then did they find a chair. Lena heard his radio go three times. Axel shut it off and handed her the card, which had a faint mark drawn across a section he was approaching too hard. She held it up to the light to see whether he'd drawn it himself. He had.

At the hall the following week, Axel told the producer in advance when he intended to go off duty. He was still in the building at that time, but he went into the little office behind the stage and shut the door for ten minutes. His assistant got to answer one of the questions Axel would have answered differently. He has yet to decide whether he's going to bring that up.

Last Sunday in the diary

Lena wants to work the hall spotlight for a touring puppet show. Axel badly wants to give her the cue sheet and has caught himself typing it for the operator instead. At DGM he wants two whole clear practice runs without calling them warmups for something else. For now there are four chairs outside the hall. He took one to Lena, who was eating toast on the step, and left the other three for the setup crew to notice.