by Mort Gloss
Chapter 8 - Launch
Balloon Launches the Single-Wide and Becomes an
Astro-Space Flier
"Balloon," said an impatient Tom, "get your fat butt out from underneath that trailer and let's go!"
"I's jist checkin' all them wires to make sure we's ready to jet outta here," responded Balloon, his voice muffled by the underbelly of the single-wide.
"You've already checked all the wires and asked yourself if everything's ready 10 times," said Russ. "It's time to do this thing."
Although it wasn't yet noon, Tom and Russ had already spent hours making the final preparations for launch: stocking the single-wide with the proper amount of water and foodstuffs (which was a tremendous task, in light of both Victory and Balloon's presence on the voyage), packing clothes, and asking Balloon a litany of questions in order to ensure that every conceivable necessary item was on board. Victory, of course, did nothing to assist in the work, other than arrive with a gigantic load of luggage and demand Russ somehow fit it inside the trailer.
Victory's usual bitter mood was even worse today, as she dealt with the fear of blasting out of the earth's orbit in Balloon's single-wide trailer, coupled with her father's uncaring response to the news she would be gone for months: "Fine with me. I hope I'm dead by the time you get back," he had snarled when she told him. Ned's nosebleeds, which had intensified, were now accompanied by debilitating headaches. The little patience he reserved for Victory was gone at the earliest sign of pain, subjecting her to terse responses and insults whenever she tried to speak to him. Victory tried to blame Ned's behavior on his illness, but she couldn't help remembering similar moments from her youth. Although she was always rude and belligerent with Balloon, Tom, and Russ, Victory's harsh treatment intensified proportionate to her father's behavior. The result on the day of the launch was that Victory's presence was simply intolerable.
"Balloon," she screamed, directing her booming voice underneath the single-wide, "it's time to go! I don't want to spend one extra minute with you morons that I don't have to!"
"The feeling is certainly mutual," shot back Tom. "Anyway, if you hate being around us so bad, why don't you just stay here?"
"Agreed," said Russ quickly, "we can handle everything."
"Oh no," responded Victory. "I'm going. You idiots could screw everything up if I wasn't around to keep an eye on you. There's too much at stake. My dad's only going to get worse, and...." She trailed off.
"And what?" asked Tom.
"What do you mean 'and what?'" snarled Victory defensively. "Dad's sickness isn't enough?"
"Just forget about it," said Russ. "If we're going to be together for two months, we should try to figure out how to get along."
Victory stomped back into the single-wide and threw herself down onto the old flower-couch. "If you want to get along with me," she said, "you'll stay out of my way."
"Given the dimensions of our space shuttle, that may prove impossible," said Tom.
"Tommy, git out here and hep me fer a piece. I gots a surprise fer y'all," said Balloon, finally crawling out from underneath the trailer.
Tom obeyed, following Balloon out to where the three cars were parked. "What's the surprise?" inquired Tom, "do we need to strip the Coupe for spare parts?"
"Nah," answered Balloon, his greasy hand rubbing his forehead as he thought, "I need y'all to pull the Caddy over yonder back behind the single-wide there, but don't git her too close."
"Why?" asked Tom.
"Don't worry 'bout nothin', jist git her moved over yonder 'n I's gonna show y'all what the surprise is."
Tom followed Balloon's instructions, starting the Cadillac and driving it into position behind the W.A.S.P. In the meantime, Balloon ran into the single-wide, entered the command room, asked himself what the right button was, and after a moment's hesitation flipped the seventh switch from the right. The scraping sound emanating from the other end of the single-wide informed him he had hit the right button. He ran outside to meet Tom.
By this time, Russ had heard the commotion and gone outside to investigate. Victory couldn't care less about the noise, opting instead to stay inside and fan herself.
"So what y'all think?" said Balloon, an eager smile on his face.
Tom stuck his head out of the Coupe's window and surveyed the scene. Extended from the back of the trailer were two long, metal platforms, each wide enough to hold a tire. Two chains were attached to each of the platforms, separated by the same distance as the front and back wheels of the Cadillac.
"So, I guess we're taking the Coupe?" said Tom, with his signature sarcastic tone.
"Yeah, ain't y'all excited?" asked Balloon, his demeanor quickly changing to disappointment.
"Oh yeah," said Russ, "this is awesome, Balloon. Only, when are we ever going to use it?"
"I asked ma head that there same thang," responded Balloon, "'n guess what? We's gonna be drivin' her around."
"Just two concerns," said Tom, still sitting in the driver's seat of the Coupe, "first, where are we going to get gas to drive this thing? And second, this car's my most prized possession, Balloon. Is it going to be alright?" Tom pulled the key out of the ignition and waited for Balloon's response.
"On the first one," answered Balloon, "ma head's sayin' all the gas we gots to take with us is in that there tank. And, on the-"
Russ interrupted. "Wait a second, Balloon. That thing only gets nine miles per gallon. Even if it's full, that's not going to get us very far. Where are we going to get gas? I mean, I believe you of course, but it almost seems like it won't be worth all the hassle."
"We'll be usin' that thang aplenty. And don't y'all worry nohow, we'll git her movin'," said Balloon.
"Okay," conceded Russ, "I believe you then. But I'm with Tom; that thing's not made for driving on top of asteroids."
"Don't worry 'bout her. Everthang's tellin' me she gonna be fine."
"Good enough for me," said Tom, firing up the engine, "guide me in, Balloon."
With Balloon's assistance, Tom drove the Coupe onto the metal platforms. Russ and Balloon harnessed the tires, while Tom ensured the Cadillac's emergency brake was in place and gearshift firmly set to park. After a few extra chains were attached from the back of the single-wide to the front of the Coupe, the job was complete. The W.A.S.P.'s length had nearly doubled.
