Balloon Boy and the Porcupine Pals: Antihooliganism
Page 12
The next few weeks went by quickly, with Tom and Russ on the hunt for the last remaining parts, and Balloon perpetually underneath the jacked up single-wide. He had originally tried to guess about how specific items should be installed, such as the "steerin' wheel" and "space rockets." This was a somewhat sensible approach, but required too much independent thought. Within a few days of construction, he had learned to simply ask himself, "what I gotsta do next on the single-wide?" And thus he spent his days, fitting parts together, stringing wires, and constantly asking himself the same question. This approach, while logical, had an unfortunate drawback: Balloon had no idea what he had installed, or how it worked.
Every few days, either Tom or Russ would get curious about a new contraption affixed to the underbelly of the single-wide, and ask Balloon what it was. Balloon, of course, never had the independent knowledge sufficient to answer the question. If Tom or Russ invoked his guessing power, they would typically get highly technical, babbling responses which were indecipherable.
Although the space voyage was ostensibly for her father, Victory had no interest in contributing to the work of construction. Nevertheless, she would incessantly prod Balloon about working at a faster pace. Victory did her best to refrain from calling him names like moron, imbecile, half-wit, and the like, but once every couple of days-almost as if out of habit-one of her old familiar pejorative epithets would slip out.
One such incident took place near the end of the construction process. Balloon was wedged in between the bottom of the single-wide and the dry cracked earth of west Texas. Although Victory was no light-foot, she had approached the spot where Balloon's feet stuck out from underneath the single-wide undetected.
"Balloon," she said, in her booming voice. "How's it going?"
The shock of Victory's thunderous voice caused Balloon to jerk his head, which crashed into the bottom of the trailer. Despite the blinding pain, Balloon was quick to answer Victory's call. "I'ma comin'. Hold on a sec." Balloon moved his arms close to his flesh and attempted to roll out from underneath the single-wide. After a few hang-ups, he successfully emerged from his workstation.
"Hey, Vic," he said, rubbing his forehead. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm fine, Balloon. I just wanted to come and check on your progress. Are you almost done?" She folded her arms as she waited for Balloon's response.
"I think I 'bout got her whipped. Lately I's been hookin' up all sorts a wires 'n what not. I ain't never seen so many wires in all ma life." Balloon spoke with a slight tremor in his voice. Victory was usually unhappy with his progress, no matter how hard he worked.
"Well how much longer is it going to be?" she asked, staring at the ground.
"I's figurin' she's gonna take me another week er two yonder 'fore everthang's all done up."
"Didn't you tell me it would only be a week or two last time I was here?" Balloon couldn't quite recall when she had been there last, but he thought it had only been the day before. "I don't understand why it's taking so long." Victory hadn't yet raised her voice, but-as Balloon knew-she was getting close.
Truth be told, Balloon didn't understand why it was taking so long either. To Balloon, the construction process was nothing more than a series of single questions and answers. Lately, the answers were telling him to attach a lot of wires. Every night, Tom and Russ would ask him what materials he would need in two days. The next day, they would go hunting for the parts Balloon needed for the next day's work. At first, they tried to help him with the actual construction. However, because the question and answer process was so tedious and time-consuming, they felt it best to lend their assistance in more productive ways.
"Well, best I can figure is she's takin' a long time 'cause they's lotsa stuff needin' to go in that there single-wide. I ain't had no idea they's gonna be so much stuff."
Victory paused before answering, no doubt attempting to restrain herself. After a few moments, however, her restraint gave way to impatience. "I don't think you realize what's at stake here. My dad's about to die and you're lying around moaning about how there's 'a lot of wires and what not.' Just get it done, Balloon!"
Balloon typically remained quiet during Victory's outbursts; he was too scared to do anything else. But that day was different. Balloon responded in his own defense. "Well," he began, mumbling, "I been workin' real hard. And it ain't easy settin' up a single-wide fer astro-space flyin' 'n all. And, ya know, if'n you's wantin' to git her done real fast-like, maybe ya could hep me out some. I bet I could git her done real fast if'n you was hepin'."
"Balloon, I told you before, I've got a lot of ... things to take care of over at the school before we leave," said Victory, surprised by Balloon's response.
"Well I gots me lotsa things I's doin' here on this single-wide, 'n I ain't gittin' nothings done now jist sittin' here. So I's gonna git back at her. If'n ya want to do somethin', lemme know."
Victory was nearly speechless. Balloon had rarely, if ever, criticized or questioned her. "I really ... appreciate all your hard work, Balloon," she forced out, with some difficulty. "But I don't think my place is here at the single-wide. I'll just get in the way. I'm going to go now. See you."
Balloon only grunted in response. He pulled himself back under the single-wide, watching Victory's tree-trunk ankles walk back to her car. As she drove away, he realized what he had said, and the way he had said it. He was horrified he'd lost her forever.