TG Race Week 3 Day 4
“What is it, Lassie? Is Tracey down the well?”
Doc drips a drop of plastic on the twisted knot of the two wires he just joined and pushes it back into the wall. He looks over at Tracey, the blue butterfly girl. She is sitting next to the hamster cage on her oversized hind quarters. Her pointy legs are spread in front of her. She uses one sharp arm to keep her balance and the other handless arm rests on the cage but unable to open it. Her rubber back and wings are up against the safe room forcing her head to face forward.
She uses his pause to speak, “This. Stinks. This. Is. Worse. Than. The. Clumsy. Magic. Girl. This. Is. The. Worst. Ever.”
“Now, now. Where’s the happy, cheerful Tracey I know?”
She glowers quietly.
He continues as if she answered, “Guess what? I figure we’ll be across this sea today. That will put us in the position to finish the race tomorrow.”
Her eyes light up if that’s possible with the multifaceted jewels she has. “Can. We. Viz.” Pause. “Go. See. Mast.” Pause. “Ele.” Pause “Ani.” Pause.
“Mastodons,” He finishes, “The ones to the side of the exit hole? I don’t see why not.” Her little circular mouth upturns.
The rest of the repairs continue uneventfully. “So, you want to stay down here all cooped up or get some fresh air up top?”
“Up. Top?”
“You could hold on to the mast.”
“Yes!” He slides open the sun roof and she flies up. She lands next to the TRS-8000. She clutches it by crossing her four limbs. This drives the vertical shaft deep into her swollen chest giving her that much more safety.
Once she is safely above, he turns on the van and backs off of the bank. Released from the weight of the van, the pontoons fall off. Doc sees them floating away. “I hope we don’t need those, because I’m not going back for them.”
Despite having power to cross it in an hour, they leave the sail up and use just enough power to get to the other cape in roughly eight. Along the way they see a flying school girl robot with ivory wings. The only sign that they acknowledge her existence is a lone pointed arm and “Her. Her. Goo.” Doc nods and continues.
More exciting by far are the repeated joyous cries of, “Look!” with bendless appendages fluttering all about pointing at all the prehistoric sea dinosaurs swimming about. Doc looks to each while making sure not to disturb any.
Upon reaching the exit cape, they turn and head along the coast. After a while, Doc feels the van dip slightly and bound up again as the blue Tracey darts for the trees. He docks the van and flies after her. They peek through the trees as he walks and she flits from branch to the next. There in the clearing they see the massive beasts and men with them. Tracey lands next to him and slides to a seated position. Doc joins her. They watch while they keep themselves concealed.
Time marches on and so do the elephant like creatures. “We should probably get back now. It’s getting late and we need a place to stop.”
She flies up excitedly, “Race?”
“Certainly.”
“Go!” Tracey zips off through the trees leaving Doc behind. Dodge left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Then she sees it.
Out by the water isn’t their van, in front of it flying at her quickly is a black car like mine. Bomb from Vince! Can’t Stop! She tries to slow. Why stop? This could be …
BOOOOMMMM! The trees shake as the explosion sends the air quickly all around Doc. “Tracey!” Doc pulls out all the stops as he flies faster than ever before. As he clears the last tree he sees her lying prone on the ground possibly unconscious.
He lands near her noting that she is no longer rubber. Her hair is strawberry blond once again. Her face has returned with a small smile. Her chest has shrunk some from the rubber change but is still quite large and covered by a flannel shirt with the top 3 buttons loose, rolled up sleeves and tied up to show some midriff. Finally she is barefoot and wearing Daisy Dukes.
He lifts her up in his arms cradling her. Her eyes open weakly. She wraps an arm around him to help support herself, “It’s so nice to have hands again. And to use sentences, too.” She closes her eyes and lets him carry her to the van.
She climbs in and slumps into the same spot as before next to her beloved pets. Doc starts up the bus and heads back to the exit. “Horatio, what are you doing so close to Hamlet?”
“They were like that before.”
Tracey manages to raise an eyebrow, “Doc? I think Horatio is an Ophelia.”
“That would explain a lot.”
Tracey crawls to the back room and grabs a sandwich from the fridge. As the food enters her body, her energy returns. She finds her place in front of the computer. As she opens a game of Pyramid Solitaire, her toes unconsciously start bouncing her legs up and down under the table.
Doc carefully maneuvers to the exit and enters. The van slides forward at a nearly vertical drop. And then the ground drops from below them. After a moment of weightlessness the vehicle lands in a small pool of water. It’s probably wide enough for four winged VW Buses to fit comfortably. Doc yawns. “I should have Tracey drive the next leg. I’m exhausted.”
He reaches for the speaker button, but she beats him to it, “Moaneek! Is sho goo to see jew!” He leans back and closes his eyes.