How my Brother Got a Zap Zap Racetrack

Julie Burness

Headlines across the world boasted of the Soyuz 38 carrying two cosmonauts to Salyut 6 space station. The Royals' Willie Wilson had just seized the record for bases stolen in the American League. On a sadder note, American essayist, short story writer, and journalist Katherine Anne Porter died at the humble age of 90. September 18, 1980, was surely eventful enough to fulfill inquiring minds with a vast majority of information. Yet in Santee, California, the wishful thoughts of a 3-year-old boy lingered on a Zap Zap Racetrack.

What a wonderful way to introduce me into the world. Being 3 years old, my brother Bryan could not fathom the meaning of suddenly not being the only child anymore. A sister? That word simply did not exist in the Webster Dictionary for pre-school aged boys. He couldn't possibly get excited about my arrival. So my mother in her infinite wisdom decided to manipulate my brother into thinking that the day she would go into labor, would be the time he received a Zap Zap Racetrack. Obviously this was done in hopes that maybe, he would have a new profound interest in the situation.

It worked, of course. With the onset of the first contraction you could hear my mother groaning loudly from the living room, "Hurry, Bryan, it's Zap Zap Racetrack time!" Bolting out of the bedroom he came, eyes glossed over with excitement, hovering at my mother's feet. "Go wake your Dad up," she motioned at him gently, her gaze fixated upon the T.V. Shogun, an engrossing mini-series based upon James Clavell's novel, still had a good half hour left. This baby was going to have to wait.

Bryan scurried off into the bedroom only to find that my father lay sleeping sprawled out between the sheets, feet dangling slightly off the bed. Tickle his toes to wake him up, he thought to himself as a smirk lit up across his face. He trickled his tiny fingers along the sole of my father's bare feet, letting out a tiny cackle. My dad wiggled his toes a bit and shuffled under the covers.

"It's Zap Zap Racetrack time, Daddy!" He persisted. Of course my father knew the code. It must be time to get the wife to the hospital. Flicking on the lamp, he peered up at the clock, which was illuminated 11:16 p.m. in bright red letters. With the sight of that, he decided a little more sleep could do no harm. After all, this was the second baby. No need to get excited. Tucking his feet back under the covers, he mumbled something to Bryan and promptly shut off the light.

Nothing could contain my brother's excitement as he bolted around the house. My mother waddled slowly behind him, packing up things she would need at the hospital. Peering into the bedroom, she observed my father still sound asleep, face buried in pillows. Squatting down on her swollen ankles, my mother leaned across the bed towards my dad and nudged him gently. "It's time to go to the Toy Store, Greg." Reluctantly he managed to crawl out of bed. Making a quick call to my Nana and Papa, he let them know the time had come to fulfill their duty as grandparents. It was designated their job, as my Mom delivered a baby, they must deliver a Zap Zap Racetrack to the hospital to help occupy a certain 3-year-old boy. In the meantime, bags packed and ready to go, our family of three piled into a Chevy Nova and headed towards the Toy Store, which in reality was a cleverly disguised synonym for hospital.

Arriving at Kaiser seemed a bit of a shock to my brother. His eyes scaled the enormous exterior of the building in sheer wondrous amazement. This had to be, by far, the largest toy store he had even laid eyes upon. A nurse greeted my family with a welcoming smile as she provided a wheel chair for my mother to sit in. As they walked the sterile halls, my brother was uncharacteristically mum. One could only imagine the thoughts that were being conjured in his juvenile mind. All these shiny metal contraptions? What sort of kid would want to play with these toys?

After waiting an ungodly amount of time, the family doctor came in to examine my mother's progress. Following an informal introduction, he proceeded to lift up the blanket covering my mother. Popping back up rather quickly his eyes focused on the floor as he began to explain some things to my mother. "It looks like we have a slight problem." He sighed, both gloved hands resting firmly on his hips. "Nothing to be too concerned about. I do see something, though." He nodded at the nurse and as if they were speaking some silent language, she acknowledged him and left the room, only to return shortly with two more doctors. "You see, Mrs. Burness," he continued, "Your baby is being born breech."

Oh yes, you heard correctly. My first moment in reality, the first sensation I felt, my beginning in this grand world started with my feet. At this point my mother couldn't care if I was born an alien, she just wanted this baby out! Upon recalling this story to me, she claims that her feelings were made rather hastily and were personified by intense pain. No medication was allowed due to the delicate nature of the birth. Not even Tylenol. By this time the persistent whining of my brother about his Zap Zap Racetrack was shorting out my mother's very last nerve. The constant kicking she was enduring, caused by yours truly, set the stage for a possible mental breakdown. My father's inability to remain semi-awake was also a factor in my mother's seething rage. Thankfully she put this sudden oncoming of aggression to good use. At 6:08 a.m. September 18, 1980, I was officially born into this world (if you don't count my feet).

Sadly, my mother can not recall the events immediately following my birth. By that time the doctors had allowed her some pain medication which allowed her to relax, and she was executing that right to the fullest extent. When her eyes did open again, she glimpsed what appeared to be a surreal dream. There was Bryan, sitting beside my crib making zooming noises as he played with his Zap Zap Racetrack. My curious blue eyes, lit up at the sight of my brother zipping cars along the plastic track below me. I would have been able to see my father slouched over in a chair, sleeping, drooling and looking much like a baby himself. My mother just locked her eyes on mine and smiled with content.

In retrospect, I believe in the hearts of all, a void was filled. My mother may have gained 40 pounds in her pregnancy, but gaining the daughter she longed for was worth every ounce. My father finally got the sleep he was so desperately seeking (at least for the time being anyway. Little did he know the next 23 years would be filled with many sleepless nights)! And probably most importantly, my brother Bryan, acquired a Zap Zap Racetrack. While eventually he did get bored with cars, racetracks and toys in general, he never managed to get tired of aggrieving his younger sister.