by Mort Gloss
****
The time had come. Balloon walked up the steps with determination. After moving into the single-wide, he turned around and locked the front door. Victory, watching the scene from her sprawled out position on the couch, was about to inquire regarding how simply locking the door could be sufficient for space travel. However, before she could say anything, Balloon began tightening down one of fourteen pressure points. The lock-down mechanisms, three each across the top and bottom of the door, four on each side, turned clockwise to create an airtight seal.
"Better git yerself buckled up, Vic," said Balloon, "ma head's tellin' me thangs is gonna git bumpy." She obeyed Balloon's commands, strapping on the Victory-size seatbelt which had recently been installed on the bolted-down couch.
"That'll do her," said Balloon, checking the straps, "you ain't goin' nowheres. If'n ya needs anythangs, holler. I's gonna be in the command center."
"Wait," said Victory. "Are you sure about this? I mean, is this thing really going to work?"
"Sho nuff. We ain't gonna splode er nothin'. We's gonna be on our way to git that medicine fer yer pappy in no time."
With that, Balloon walked into his former bedroom. There he met Tom and Russ, who had already begun buckling themselves to the brown vinyl command chairs.
"You ready for this?" asked Russ, seated to the right of Balloon's extra-large command chair in the middle.
"Yup," answered Balloon. "I's jist figurin' whicha these here switches to flip 'n then I's gonna git maself all set."
"You know, Russell," said Tom, a fearful chirp in his voice, "the true miracle won't be overcoming the earth's gravitational pull in a single-wide trailer. The true miracle will be getting this white trash spaceship off the ground with both Victory and Balloon along for the ride."
"To be sure, Thomas, but don't let your mind be troubled. I'm sure our scholarly friend here has worked everything out."
Balloon was the only traveler who wasn't nervous. His head had repeatedly informed him that all was prepared for the space flight, and that the voyagers would safely depart. Plus, Balloon was generally too stupid to experience genuine anxiety.
"Alrighty, boys, we's almost there," said Balloon, as he pressed various buttons, flipped various switches, and checked various blinking lights. Tom and Russ were completely ignorant about the single-wide's manual controls, a result of Balloon's near inability to explain the spaceship's features without speaking in total techno-jargon. Russ had tried to ask each question with an "explain it in terms I can understand" caveat at the end, but the process proved so tedious that he lost interest. He later determined he would learn to operate the W.A.S.P. by watching Balloon.
With each flipped switch, the single-wide presented a new humming sound, accompanied by various vibrations. The anxious passengers heard metal sliding past metal, saw west Texas dust rising up around the trailer, and felt stirring jolts as the single-wide changed positions. None of them, including Balloon, understood the significance of any of it.
"Time to plug in them steerin' controls!" yelled Balloon over the increasing noise of the single-wide. With that, Balloon walked to a laminate storage cabinet in the corner of the command room and extracted two video game controllers. He then moved to the opposite side of the room, bent down, and plugged the controls into a gaming console which sat atop a decrepit television set a few feet in front of the viewing window.
"Hey, Balloon," yelled Tom. "This isn't just some space version of Lord Protector, right?"
"Nope, this here's the real deal," answered Balloon. "I's made some changes to this gamin' box, so we's can use her to fly through space 'n what not."
With that, Balloon powered on the gaming console and television. After a few seconds, the television displayed numerous strings of long numbers. Nobody had any idea what the numbers meant. As the sounds became louder and louder, Russ noticed the numbers on the screen were similarly increasing.
"Balloon, what do those numbers on the television mean?" he yelled.
Balloon, stumbling to his command chair with the gaming controllers in hand, stopped for a moment, asked himself the question, and regurgitated the answer. "The numbers on the screen represent a readout of the tachypulsometer's buildup toward infinite energy."
"What does that mean? Is that bad?" asked Tom.
"No, that ain't-"
Balloon was interrupted by the loudest noise yet: Victory's screams.
"Balloon, what is going on in there? I didn't come on this trip to get blown up!"
"Ain't nothin' wrong," Balloon shouted back. "Everthang's sposed to be goin' this way," he said, and then half to himself, half to Tom and Russ, "least I think it is."
With that, Balloon threw himself into his command chair, secured the extra-long seatbelt strap over his tremendous girth, and placed both hands firmly on the game controller. Although Victory was still screaming, he forced himself to ignore her.
"Tom," he yelled. "Grab that other gamin' switch. I needs ya to hep steer us outta here."
"Balloon, what are you-"
But before Tom could finish speaking, the space travelers felt a colossal explosion from beneath the single-wide. The stationary landscape of west Texas was gone, left behind in a mushroom cloud of carnage. The view from the command center's window showed nothing but endless blue sky. As they hurled upward, the space travelers struggled to remain conscious of their surroundings, engulfed in the sound of exploding rockets and the tremendous shaking of the single-wide. Balloon remained steadfast, keeping his finger firmly pressed on the up arrow of the game controller. He thought he could hear Victory shouting from the other room, but he couldn't be sure. His primary concern was whether the shaking coming from the controls emanated from the spaceship's rockets, or the game controller's built in rumblers. Before he was able to come to any conclusion, he realized Tom was screaming at him.
"You ----- ----- moron ------- steer -------- thing!" was all Balloon could make out. Rather than responding audibly, Balloon held up his hands, showing Tom that the proper method for steering the single-wide at the moment was by pushing the up button. Tom shook his head in disgust and followed Balloon's lead with his own set of controls.
After another 30 seconds of violent shaking and ear-splitting noise-a period of time the space voyagers perceived as much longer-the sounds and shaking started to decrease. Through the command center's viewing window, the travelers saw the black of space slowly replace the blue. Eventually, the single-wide's rockets were silent.
Balloon started to panic. "Somethin' must be wrong, boys. Sounds like them rockets quit firin'."
Although still in a daze, Russ managed to speak. "No, Balloon, don't worry," he said, his eyes closed. "You won't be able to hear the rockets anymore. There's no sound in space."
"What ya mean no sound? I done heard ever word you jist said," responded Balloon, now shaking the controls in order to reawaken the rockets.
Russ was slowly coming to his senses. "No, Balloon, there won't be any sound outside the single-wide. There's no air out there. If there's no air, there's no sound."
Just then, Victory screamed from the other room: "What's going on in there, Balloon?"
"Excellent point, Russ. Can we somehow get Victory outside the single-wide?" asked Tom, also emerging from semi-unconsciousness.
"Guys, look at that," said Russ, pointing out the viewing window of the command center. "It's incredible."
The three sat in silence, beholding the scene. The blackness of space had completely replaced the blue sky of west Texas. Toward the bottom of the viewing window, they could see the curvature of the earth, stark against the dark backdrop.
"I ain't seein' Texas down there. Where is we?" asked Balloon.
"We're right above it, man," answered Tom. "There's the gulf of Mexico right there," he said, pointing, "and there's the Rio Grande."
Balloon had a confused look on his face. "Well, that there piece kinda looks like the bottom of her, but where's the panhand
le 'n what not? Where's them dark lines?"
Russ and Tom laughed out loud.
"There's no lines around the state, you idiot," chuckled Tom, "that's just what they do on maps so you can tell where the different states and countries are."
"Hey, something's not right here, Balloon," said Russ. "There shouldn't be any gravity."
A satisfied grin appeared on Balloon's face. "Don't y'all worry, I got her all figured so we's can still walk 'round about when we's space travelin'. I know y'all is gonna-"
Balloon's explanation was interrupted by Victory's screams. "Balloon," she yelled, "get in here and unhook this stupid thing!" Victory was either unwilling or unable to free herself from the couch constraints. Balloon began detaching himself from his command chair in order to help her.
"Balloon," said Russ, "great job on the blast off. You really did it; and none of us are dead."
"Well, not yet," added Tom. "But, Balloon, next time can we do a countdown before we take off? Seriously, I had no idea that was coming."
"Sorry 'bout that," answered Balloon. "I thought y'all knew."
As the single-wide ascended further from the earth, Balloon left the command center to assist Victory. Down below, where Balloon's single-wide trailer used to sit, a large crater bubbled to the brim with crude oil.
Chapter 9 - Single-Wide
Balloon and His Fellow Travelers
Voyage through Space
