by Mort Gloss
****
As soon as he returned to the single-wide, Balloon called Victory's office at Midland College. After the first ring, she answered. "Victory," she said.
"Hey, Vic," said Balloon, his voice trembling as he spoke, "I wanted to call ya 'n ask if'n you can come over yonder after ya gits done with yer teachin' stuff today."
"Okay, I can come over." Victory's pleasant demeanor over the past few days was shocking to both Victory and Balloon. Victory had never thought she could treat Balloon, the imbecile that he was, with such kindness and respect. Balloon, on the other hand, was reveling in Victory's niceties, falsely believing that he had finally won her over due to his supergenius abilities. "What's going on?" she inquired, with no hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Well, I reckon you been askin' 'bout this astro-space flyin' stuff 'n yer pappy 'n everthang so I's figured it's 'bout time we figure her out 'n such." Balloon tried not to reveal too much; he didn't want to upset Victory before she came over. He mistakenly thought it was best to break it to her in person.
"Well, okay...." Victory said, hesitating. She could tell Balloon had made a decision, but she was unable to guess the outcome. "What time do you want me to come?"
"Jist come tonight after ya done teachin'. I gots me some corndogs we can eat up," suggested Balloon, hopefully.
"I'm not much for corndogs, Balloon; but I will be over. See you then."
Balloon thought about saying "I miss you" or "I love you" or some other variation on that theme, but abandoned the thought as he heard the click of Victory hanging up her phone. He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd heard Victory curse just prior to the click.
After hanging up the phone, Balloon instantly became nervous: more nervous than he had been at any other point in his entire life. To calm himself, he played Lord Protector VI, Curse of the Elves. Since acquiring his abilities he had only conquered the game forty-three times, far less than the other games in the Lord Protector series. After he was kicked out of Midland College and fired from his job at Telemarx, he had nothing to do. His days were mostly filled with sleep, Lord Protector, Certain Death, and the consumption of vast quantities of what he considered food. He would occasionally bathe, but it was only upon recognition of the despicable odors emanating from his portly body. Unlike Tom and Russ, he had no interest in the millions tucked underneath his bed.
After a few hours of mindless video-gaming, he heard a loud knock on the door. Confident it was Victory, he quickly turned off the television and attempted to tuck in his food-stained t-shirt. After failing to find an opening large enough to tuck, he stumbled toward the door. On the other side, he was greeted by Tom and Russ.
"Hey, Balloon," said Russ, walking up the makeshift staircase leading inside the single-wide. "We wanted to come over tonight for, well, moral support. We figured Victory probably gave you the business when you told her."
"Absolutely correct, Russell," added Tom. "How did she take it, Balloon? Did she try to murder you by reading Victorian poetry?"
"She ain't done nothin'," responded Balloon, making room for Tom and Russ to enter the single-wide. "I ain't told her yet. She sposed to come over here tonight 'n I's gonna break it to her then."
"Well in that case, perhaps it's best for us to stay. We can help you stand your ground. What do you say, Thomas?"
Tom, by now searching the pantry for something to eat, voiced his agreement. "That's spot on, Russell. The way I figure it, it's going to take all three of us to get her calmed down once you tell her, Balloon. It's really too bad we don't have any elephant tranquilizers."
Russ joined in the fun. "Balloon, guess where the closest elephant tranquilizer is. Maybe there's still time for one of us to go on a run."
Balloon closed his eyes and asked himself the question. "There ain't one nowheres close. Y'all gots to go up yonder to Amarillo to git one of them."
"Why would there be elephant tranquilizers in Amarillo?" asked Tom, suddenly curious.
"On account of the circus goin' through up'n there," responded Balloon.
"Well it's settled then," said Tom. "If she gets too out of line, we just drop her off with the other circus freaks up in the panhandle. She could have a happy life with the carnies."
Just as Tom finished speaking, a loud boom sounded on the front door of the single-wide. Balloon made another last ditch effort to tuck in his shirt, but it was useless. He moved as quickly as his lumbering body could take him and opened the door.
"Hey, Vic," said Balloon, stepping out of the way while motioning Victory to enter. As she passed by, he saw her clinch her jaw as she made eye contact with Tom. "Russ 'n Tommy got here jist 'fore you did. They wanted to say... uh... hi to ya 'n such."
"Hello, Victoria," said Tom, bowing low as Victory came into the room. "As always, it is my extreme pleasure to see you again. Have you been exercising? You look ravishing my dear, simply ravishing."
To both Tom and Russ' surprise, Victory restrained herself. "Good to see you," said Victory, consciously trying to keep her voice low, "I don't mean to be rude, but I was hoping I could speak to Balloon... alone. Is that okay?" She wiped the bright-red hair from her face as she spoke.
"Well, Victoria," responded Russ, "I think we should leave that up to our dear friend Balloon here."
"I concur, Russell," added Tom. "Balloon's mommy owns this single-wide, so Balloon gets to decide who stays and who goes." Tom gave Balloon a meaningful stare, trying to convey that he should let them stay.
"Alright," said Victory, even more tense, "it's up to Balloon then. If he wants you two ..." she muffled a small cough, "gentlemen to stay, that's his decision."
All eyes shifted to Balloon, who stood next to the front door. The beads of sweat trickled down his unshaven face. After an awkward silence, he spoke. "Well, we's all friends so I's thinkin' it's okay if'n we all have us a talk about everthang 'n what not. And I reckon havin' y'all here at the same time may be fer the best."
Victory did her best to hide her anger. "Alright, Balloon, I understand." She paused, giving both Tom and Russ a hateful stare. "So you invited me over tonight because you said you had made a decision about helping my father. What's your decision?"
All eyes again moved to Balloon. His voice quivering, Balloon tried to speak. "Well, I's been thinkin' 'bout all the stuff fer this astro-space flyin'...." He paused, looking at the ground. "And outer spaces 'n stars 'n rainbows, and well... jist everthang." And there it stopped. Ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds went by without another word.
Finally showing signs of impatience, Victory prodded him to continue. "Okay, you've been thinking. Go on."
"And... well, I's also wonderin' 'bout space bandits 'n laser guns, like they gots in them Star Trek movies. I mean, like them alien warriors 'n such." Another long pause. Balloon shifted his feet nervously as he stood in silence.
"Well, what have you been wondering? Why are you thinking about all that nonsense? That's just in the movies," interjected Victory, becoming openly upset about Balloon's hedging.
"Balloon's got a good point," said Tom. "There's got to be some kind of bandits and space gangsters out there. You know, trying to steal people's spaceships and stuff."
"Oh definitely," added Russ. "There are other risks as well. For example, what if you get sucked into a black hole, or hit by an asteroid? There are several calamities to watch out for. So, I think Balloon's correct to consider these issues."
"But you're forgetting something," responded Victory, using every ounce of her remaining self-control to keep from strangling Tom, "Balloon knows everything. Or at least he can know everything. Maybe there are space bandits, black holes, and asteroids that can cause us harm. But Balloon will know where they are; he'll know how to get around them. Balloon is invincible!"
Upon hearing Victory's accolade, Balloon lifted his eyes from the ground and looked at her. In all his long years of chasing, she had never once complimented him. She had never uttered a single word of praise. An
d inside his feeble mind, the old familiar longing for Victory began to crowd out his fears.
Sensing this turn of events, Tom scrambled to get Victory back on defense. "Balloon may always know the answers, dearest Victoria, but he rarely, if ever, knows the question. These bandits could travel through time, using some kind of space flux capacitor, and show up to pillage you and Balloon before he even had the chance to ask the right question." Tom could see Balloon's hesitation return. He went in for the kill. "Plus, Balloon, I guarantee they won't have music stores in space that are selling Certain Death's latest reunion tour CD. And I know you won't be able to get that new Lord Protector you've been talking about." Balloon hadn't actually been talking about a new Lord Protector game. And, in fact, there was no new Lord Protector game in the works. However, upon hearing Tom's words, Balloon assumed he had talked about the game, and he wanted it. "And one thing's for sure Balloon, you won't be able to get Mexican food as good as Taco Villa in some other galaxy."
Victory fought back. "Balloon, I know it will take some sacrifice. But I'm hoping you'll do what's best for my father ... and me."
The moment of decision had come. All in the single-wide sensed it. Balloon refocused his attention on the ground and began to speak. "Well, Vic, I been thinkin' 'bout this deal here long 'n hard. And I reckon yer pappy wants to go on livin' 'n what not. But here's the deal, I jist ain't no astro-space flier. And I think they's way lotsa dangers we could git mixed up in out theres. And I's worried them bandits could keep us from ever gittin' back home if'n we was caught."
Victory abandoned all notions of restraint. Her fierce anger accompanied her thunderous voice as she spoke: "There are no space bandits, you moron! Tom just put that idea in your head to scare you from going. Just like he scared you into thinking you'd miss some new CD, or a new videogame, or tacos! Are you seriously going to let my father die over tacos? I always knew you were an idiot, but this is ridiculous." Victory began stomping toward the door.
"But, Vic, I's jist tryin' to protect you from them there bandits. I love me some tacos, that's a fact, but they ain't the reason I ain't wantin' to go yonder." Balloon followed her to the door, frantic. Victory turned around to offer one last insult.
"You are nothing more than a coward. I hate you. I have always hated you. I will never stop hating you. Don't ever talk to me again."
With that, Victory descended the steps of the single-wide and moved toward her car. Balloon watched her vaguely, apparently dumbfounded by her outburst. Although he appeared to be in a daze, Balloon was actually deep in thought. He was reconsidering his prior position. It was the most difficult decision he had ever made in his life. He knew what was at stake. And he knew there would be consequences-all of which he considered disastrous-either way. As he attempted to navigate through his own indecision, he refocused his attention on Victory. Just as she was about to stuff her various extremities into her vehicle, a gust of wind softly blew her orange mullet across the back of her exposed neck. At that instant, Balloon abandoned his fears and embraced the darkness.
"Vic, wait up!" he yelled, running down the steps of the single-wide. "Don't leave me jist yet. I's had me a change a heart." Tom, rolling his eyes and giving Russ an 'I told you so' glance, chased after Balloon.
"Balloon, don't do this man. She's not worth it. Just let her go," shouted Tom.
Balloon ignored him completely. "Vic, wait fer me please. I done changed ma mind!" said Balloon, pounding on the driver's side window of Victory's car.
Victory rolled down her window a few inches and responded to Balloon's pleas. "You're just a coward. You haven't really changed your mind. You'll let yourself get scared again and we'll be right back here. I'll just find some other way to save him. I don't need you."
And something changed. Balloon's eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his usually overwhelmed belt buckle loosened. Then he screamed. "I ain't no coward! And I ain't afraid a nothin'. I AM NOT AFRAID!"
Victory placed her foot on the brake, moving the gear shift from reverse to park. The frown she normally wore on her face turned to a sly smile. She had defeated him, and she knew it.