by Thomas Babak
I did it! I rescued them!
Sandy flew back towards home at a much more leisurely pace after circling the burning building a few times more to make sure there wasn’t anyone else. He tried to check thoroughly but he didn’t see anyone else.
It had been an exciting night. He glanced at his dash clock. It was approaching 11:00pm. It had been less than two hours but it seemed like much longer. He’d go home and take a shower and crawl into bed with Tasha. The thought brought a smile to his face. The smile slowly left his face as Sandy began to think about all the cameras. The cameras in the helicopters, in people’s hands and the news crews on the ground. Would they be able to recognize him at all? Would…Sandy never completed the thought.
Suddenly, all the lights and displays went off. In the utter darkness of the van, it began to drop like a rock out of the sky. The wind was a roar as the Bubble Van plummeted towards the earth.
Twenty-Five
Failsafe! Failsafe! Failsafe! The word raced through Sandy’s mind. A covered switch on the dash was glowing, the red illumination the only thing that was powered on in the entire van. As the van plummeted and air whooshed past outside, Sandy quickly lifted up the cover, reached down, and flipped the switch.
The van stopped immediately and hovered in the darkness. The Lifters had activated and were providing support to the van. The sudden stop caused Sandy to jerk down in his seat and his head and shoulders to snap forward until the seatbelt caught and stopped him.
“Holy… crap!” Sandy muttered to himself. Back when he had built a drone using the newly invented Bubble Tech, there had been an incident where the power had cut out and the drone had dropped several hundred feet to the ground. The frame of welded rebar had bent slightly and all the internal components were smashed. It took him several days to rebuild it. After that he’d built in a failsafe system separate from everything else to power the Bubble field and the Lifters.
Sandy unhooked his seatbelt and got up slowly. He fumbled in the pouch behind the driver’s seat, his hands still shaking, for the flashlight he kept there.
Turning it on, he flashed it around the van as if the solution to the power failure would jump out at him. He didn’t know how much time he had with the battery he kept separate for his failsafe system. He’d never had time to test it other than to make sure it worked. It should be hours but he couldn’t trust that. After all, what had just happened shouldn’t have happened and yet it just did.
He first checked his impromptu wiring panel he’d built in the small closet. Everything looked okay. Next he followed the wires as far as he could from inside the van. They all seemed fine too. The fuses! The fuse were up front. Under the hood. Outside of the van. Stupid!
Sandy moved back up to the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window and stuck the flashlight out and pointed it down. He couldn’t see the ground. He’d been flying at a thousand feet when the power went out. He had no idea how far he’d dropped but he should be able to see the ground. He looked over at the failsafe switch. I can do it, he thought. He could make it to the ground, but he’d have to be careful.
Reaching out he held the failsafe switch in two fingers and leaned back out of the window shining the flashlight down. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he flipped the switch off. The van immediately began to drop. The ground came into view and Sandy immediately flipped the switch back on. The van stopped falling. He noticed other buildings below at least one with lights showing, but there was no choice. He flicked the switch briefly repeatedly until he was hovering just off the ground. He turned the switch off one last time and the van dropped about a foot to the ground. The Bubble Van bounced hard on its springs, flinging him about. It finally settled down after a few seconds. Sandy let out a sigh of relief, just as dogs began to bark and floodlights lit up the van.
“Don’t move! Come on out!” a man’s voice yelled out in one loud breath.
Sandy froze though his heart was racing. He hesitated though. He didn’t know whether to stay frozen or get out of the van.
After a few more moments the voice called out again. “Might as well come on out.” The voice had a hint of exasperation in it, the kind of exasperation you used for yourself rather than for others. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Sandy thought.
Sandy shut off the flashlight that he’d been holding out the window and opened the van door and got out slowly. He tossed the flashlight onto the driver’s seat and faced the voice. By this time his eyes had adjusted going from the darkness to the sudden blinding lights and he could see an old man standing on the porch of his house not twenty feet away. He was holding a shotgun.
Sandy froze again.
The old man, seeing Sandy freeze, understood immediately and said “Don’t worry. It ain’t loaded.” He put the shotgun down and leaned it against the side of the house.
Sandy let out his breath and relaxed.
He looked Sandy over for a few moments and then said, “Come on up.” The old man picked up the shotgun causing Sandy to tense up again for a moment but the old man then walked into the house, the screen door slamming behind him.
Sandy looked around for the first time. He’d landed in a fenced in yard of a farmhouse. It had been sheer luck that he hadn’t come down on the house itself. It could have been worse. I could have come down over a lake. Looking around, he could see the outline of a barn and a silo nearby silhouetted by the stars. He slowly walked up onto the porch and to the door. Dogs were still barking somewhere inside but the old man was sitting on the couch watching TV. Scenes of Sandy’s van appearing and disappearing while flying up the building played repeatedly.
The old man looked up at him from the armchair he was sitting in and said “Come on in.”
Sandy hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside.
“You hungry?” he asked. Sandy shook his head no. “Thirsty?” He was already getting up, left the room and came back moments later with a cold beer and handed it to Sandy.
Sandy stood there at the door holding the unopened beer can. He looked around but didn’t see the shotgun anywhere.
“Sit down. Sit down” he said repeatedly and motioning to the couch next to him, as he sat himself.
Sandy moved over and sat down.
He looked the old man over. He was large and from what Sandy could see poking out from under his battered baseball cap, most of his hair was gone. It was either that or the man’s hair was just cut so close as to be almost bald-looking. He wore clean but well-worn jeans and a short sleeved shirt unbuttoned and showing his too-white t-shirt underneath. He wasn’t shy about smiling.
“That was you wasn’t it?” he said nodding over the TV.
Sandy nodded his head in the affirmative.
“You flew into my yard didn’t you?” continuing through Sandy’s nod. “Dogs didn’t notice you until you… landed,” he said chuckling. The dogs were still barking but not as furiously now. They were obviously somewhere upstairs, locked up.
“You’re not some sort of alien or something, are you?” the old man asked, the open smile leaving his face briefly, replaced by a mischievous one.
“No, sir!” Sandy exclaimed in shock speaking for the first time since he landed.
The old man chuckled. “Just funnin’ you boy.”
The old man looked back at the TV for a few moments. The words “Flying Van” were written on the caption as it showed the van flying up the side of the burning building.
“My name’s Fred. Best you not tell me yours,” he said. He was still smiling, the smile only leaving his face briefly as he said the last part seriously.
Sandy just looked at him.
“So why did you come here? Not that I don’t mind visitors,” he inquired.
“Something went wrong. Power,” Sandy said simply.
The entire time the old man had been sitting there he had been sipping on his beer. He held it to his lips and drained it now.
“Well, we best get to fixin’ it,” he said getting up with
a grunt.
Sandy put his unopened beer down on the coffee table and got up as well. The dogs began barking again and the old man yelled upstairs, “Quiet!” There was no apparent effect other than startling Sandy.
They both went outside to the front of the van.
“What kind of motor do you have in there?” the old man asked.
“Umm…no motor, sir” Sandy responded. He was about to continue when the old man said “Best not tell me. Not sure I really want to know.”
Sandy went around to the driver’s door, opened it and popped the hood. He came back around to the front after grabbing his flashlight from the driver’s seat. He lifted the hood and was startled again as the old man appeared suddenly at his side and took the flashlight from him. He turned it on and held it while Sandy lifted the hood up, propping it open.
The fuse box was mounted on what used to be the engine firewall. He popped open the plastic cover and pulled the main power fuse. It was burned out. He shook his head. Stupid. When he got back home he’d replace the fuse box with resettable switches. He’d make sure they were inside the van.
The old man stood silently a few steps back, pointing the flashlight so Sandy could see. Sandy showed him the fuse. The old man took the fuse from Sandy and held it out away from his body, shining the light on it.
“100 Amp, huh? Got a few of those around here. Just a minute,” he said. He walked away towards the barn. Sandy stood there and waited while the old man disappeared into the barn and a couple minutes later came back.
“Here ya go,” he said, handing Sandy two fuses.
“Thanks, sir,” Sandy said.
“Fred,” the old man said.
“Thanks...Fred,” Sandy said turning back to the hood as the old man held the light so he could see again.
Sandy pushed the fuse back in and then moved around to the driver’s side. He had never shut anything off, so lights and monitors were already back on. The laptops were booting up. Sandy went back to the hood and shut the plastic cover over the fuse.
“Thanks, Fred,” Sandy said again with a smile. Fred hadn’t stopped smiling.
He walked back to the driver’s side and got in. The old man followed him over. Sandy checked the monitors and switches. Everything seemed to be okay. The old man stood silently outside the van. Eventually, the main monitor displayed “No Errors or Alerts” from the forced diagnostic Sandy had initiated.
Sandy closed the door and buckled his seatbelt. He looked out at the old man.
The old man smiled, shut off the flashlight and handed it to Sandy. “Here’s your light.”
“Thanks again, Fred,” Sandy said smiling for the first time.
“No problem, son. Stop by anytime” Fred responded and stepped back a few steps.
Sandy reached out and turned on the Lifters, clicked a button and pulled back on the stick. The van began to rise slowly. He leaned out the window and waved at Fred. Fred, an amazed smile plastered on his face, waved back. Within a second or two, Sandy was out of the circle of floodlights. He flew up higher, switched on the Bubble Field, and headed for home.
The rest of the way back to the Yard was uneventful and the drive home in his truck, this time at a more sedate pace, was quiet. Fred had been a really nice guy. Would he report me? Would they believe him if he did? Sandy thought about it briefly, but instead focused on driving home safely after the nights adventures.
The house was dark when he got home. He quietly made his way in and crept upstairs. Tasha must already be asleep. It was already well after midnight. Sandy showered and then made his way to Grandma’s room. It was fast becoming known as “our” room to Tasha and himself but he occasionally still thought of it as Grandma’s.
He tried to crawl in bed without waking Tasha but she woke up anyway.
“What time is it?” she asked sleepily.
“Late. Go back to sleep,” Sandy answered quietly.
He crawled the rest of the way into bed and snuggled up against her.
As he was getting settled, she whispered “I saw your Grandpa’s van on TV.”
Sandy froze.
“What…what did you say?” he whispered. Tasha had already fallen back asleep. Or at least pretended to.
Twenty-Six
Sandy was downstairs making breakfast when Tasha came into the kitchen. He’d been thinking about what Tasha had said last night, about seeing Grandpa’s van on TV. Until he had towed it out of the garage out back to convert it to Bubble Tech, it had been sitting in there for years. His dad never drove it or even started it up. Sandy could remember exploring the van with Tasha when they were kids. They’d even spent several weeks one summer using it as a clubhouse. When he’d pulled it into the barn at the Yard and had starting working on it, he’d even found some of his books and Tasha’s stuffed hippo which was now jammed between a couple monitors. She knew Grandpa’s van. She’d recognize it.
“Good morning” she said smiling at him and going to the counter to pour a cup of coffee. He wasn’t a fan of coffee at first, but soon was drinking it every morning with Tasha. He drew the line at black coffee, though. He found he liked it best with half and half and no sugar.
“Morning,” Sandy said as he finished up making the last pancake and put it onto a plate. He’d gotten better at making them. They weren’t ugly anymore.
At the table, Sandy sat there slowly spreading butter and syrup onto his pancakes. He glanced occasionally at Tasha, who stared at him while sipping her coffee. She hadn’t even looked down yet at the pancake he’d placed on her plate. He cut a wedge of pancake off with his fork, speared it and was bringing it to his mouth when Tasha asked, “How is everything at the Yard?”
Sandy hesitated a moment longer then answered with “Fine,” before putting the pancake bite into his mouth.
Tasha’s face was neutral when she asked the question. The answer made her mouth turn into a slight frown. She put her coffee cup down, got up and turned on the small color tube TV next to the table. She started switching channels and only had to go through a couple before the screen showed the “Flying Van.” Though it was dark, lights from the ground and helicopters illuminated it. There were flashes where it was completely visible.
Tasha went back to her chair and sat down and crossed her arms and leaned back. She was staring down at her coffee mug. It was a white mug with a heart on it with the words “World’s Greatest Mom” written in it. It had been in the cabinet for years but Sandy never used it.
“Sandy,” she started and then hesitated. “Sandy. You aren’t lying to me, but you aren’t telling me the truth either.” She looked at Sandy intently as she finished her sentence.
“That’s your Grandpa’s van,” she said, uncrossing her arms to point at the TV before crossing them again. “As soon as I saw this last night, I went out to the garage and checked. It’s gone.”
Sandy put his fork down. He’d shared the secret of being on his own with her and trusted her with that at the time. She’d find out eventually anyway. Why not now? Seconds passed while they both stared at each other.
“Sandy?” Tasha said finally with a note of pleading in her voice.
“It’s something I have to show you, rather than tell you,” Sandy said quietly.
A look of surprise came over Tasha’s face. “So it really was you?” she asked with wonder in her voice knowing what she’d seen on TV but that it involved Sandy almost beyond the realm of belief.
Sandy nodded and smiled. Tasha smiled, laughed, and got up to kiss Sandy.
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she said before turning and dashing out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She already had a thousand questions, but knew it could wait until Sandy told, or showed, her.
Sandy wrapped the uneaten pancakes and put them in the fridge. After cleaning up, he went and changed himself. He waited downstairs for just a couple minutes before Tasha came skipping back downstairs.
“I’m ready!” she exclaimed excitedly. It was the fastest she’
d ever been ready for anything.
Sandy smiled and they went out to his truck. On the drive over to the Yard, Tasha tried to ask questions several times. Sandy kept putting her off by saying different versions of “Wait and see.”
Pulling into the Yard parking lot, Sandy noticed that Mr. Bullock’s car was already there. Sandy parked and shut off his truck and said “Tasha, I want you to meet someone first.”
“Okay,” she said, knowing exactly who Sandy meant. He’d only talked about Mr. Bullock about a thousand times.
Sandy smiled back and they both got out and went to the door. Sandy opened the Yard office door and held it for Tasha. Once inside, Sandy closed it and called out “Mr. Bullock?” There was no response.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Sandy said taking Tasha by the hand and leading her around the counter towards the back. He stopped at Mr. Bullock’s office door. It was closed, so he knocked softly and called out again “Mr. Bullock?” They heard boots hit the floor and Mr. Bullock’s voice call out, “What?”
Sandy opened the door. Mr. Bullock was sitting at his desk, eyes slightly puffy from where he’d obviously been taking a nap. “What’s up, Sandy?” he asked.
Sandy opened the door the rest of the way and as he moved inside the office leading Tasha in he said “Mr. Bullock, I’d like you to meet Tasha…Natasha Johnson.” His hand went from holding hers to entwining her fingers in a tight clasp. He squeezed her hand twice and Tasha squeezed back. It was something they had just started to do. If he squeezed twice it was to ask “Okay?” and if she squeezed back once it was to say “Yes.” It was Tasha’s idea to stop Sandy from constantly asking her if she was okay when they were out and about. That first week they had been together, Sandy had needed a lot of reassurance. He’d had a hard time believing that she was with him, let alone okay.