Status: Chapter 25 to come!
Reach for the Sky
Insomnia.
Oh man, why did televisions always have to have so many remotes? I could take apart an entire engine, clean it, paint it, lubricate it and put it back together without (m)any spare parts, but trying to figure out which remotes to use for what on a television was far beyond my grasp. Achilles sat on the couch beside me, his massive head on my lap as I attempted to get the TV to play satellite and not Video Games.
It a few minutes shy of midnight, and I was trying to hack into Travis Pastrana’s TV; insomnia was a strange thing. I didn’t mind not sleeping so much as having nothing to do while not sleeping - I would normally have read a book, but Jolene was already asleep and I was loathe to turn on the light and risk her wrath or something. If I hadn’t been worried about the lack of light or waking everyone in the house, I would have gone outside and raced on Travis’s dilapidated Motocross track. Frustrated, I picked up the first remote (the largest, I had placed them in size order) and ran my fingers down the buttons, hoping something would happen.
Success!
Finally, I could flip through the satellite channels with ease. Contrary to popular belief, there was always something interesting on at midnight, one just had to be very determined to find it; personally, I enjoyed the History Channel late at night, or Animal Planet, or if I had taken a few knocks on the head during practice, Comedy Central. Tonight, it was the History Channel’s documentary of Dracula’s Transylvania and Animal Planet’s Animal Cops: Houston for the commercials. After a few pats of Achilles’ enormous head, I traveled back into the kitchen for a glass of water, digging around in the cabinets for a cup before pouring tap water into it.
Which was when I heard it.
It had definitely been a scream - was the house just haunted, or was someone being murdered? I whistled softly to the great mutt on the couch to accompany me so I could play Nancy Drew safely. Curiosity killed the Scottie. Achilles and I followed a second shout out of the kitchen and into the “dining room” - which was really just filled with gear (from sponsors) and stuff - and then down a hall I hadn’t been down before. I could hear someone stumbling around, and silenced Achilles’ menacing growl as we turned around the corner.
“Travis?” At the end of the hallway he stood, staring out the window in nothing but his boxers with a look of absolute horror on his face. Tentatively, I reached out a hand and placed it on the middle of his back (because I didn’t want to get close enough to reach his shoulder), and called his name softly.
Suddenly, he spun around, eyes wide with fear as he grabbed both of my shoulders in his enormous, calloused hands. “I’m going to crash this time! You have to help me! I’m going to crash!”
“Travis, it’s alright, you’re not going to crash. Just wake up,” I spoke softly, as if soothing some sort of wild animal, and reached up to pinch his cheek as hard as I could. The look in his eyes instantly changed from terror to disorientation, like he didn’t know my face. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t… Uh…”
“Travis?”
“Scottie? What’re you… Aw, hell.” He threw his hands up in the air and walked back into what I assumed was his room, as I stood in shock. What the hell was wrong with these people? A minute later, Travis emerged from his room in a pair of basketball shorts with a t-shirt slung over his shoulder. “Sorry about that,” He reached down to pat Achilles’ great head for a minute, and as we walked back to the living room Travis explained this strange phenomenon.
“Night Terrors, huh?” I asked, retrieving a glass of water before we both sat down on the couch.
“Yeah, well. Why are you up?”
“I dunno, I just can never sleep. I’m always up. The doctors say it has something to do with fear, it makes no sense.” Travis nodded like he understood, which was a first because nobody could ever catch the concept.
“Suppressed fear.”
Somewhere around 3AM, while Animal Cops were saving an enormous, neglected Great Dane, I must have fallen asleep; I woke up sprawled across the couch with my head in Pastrana’s lap, Achilles on my stomach, and somehow Travis had curled around so that his head rested on Achi’s back. I felt just a little bit pinned down.
“Did I miss something?” Startled, I looked up at Gregg Godfrey, who’s face floated above mine.
“What time is it?” I felt Travis sit up groggily, and Achilles yawned as if we had inconvenienced him somehow by waking up.
“Today’s backflip day! Down, boy!” Obediently, Achilles climbed off my legs as I extracted myself from the couch; Travis eyed me incredulously.
“Uh… Scottie, Gregg. Gregg, Scottie.”
“Sorry, a little overexcited. Sorry.” I stuck out my hand to the shorter man. “Nice to meet you.”
“Backflip, you say?” Gregg looked at Travis as if questioning his sanity.
“Go get your swimsuit and meet me by the pool in ten minutes.” I raised an eyebrow at Travis, but did as I was told. Jolene slept on as I bustled around in our shared room; bustling in and out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth and dressed simultaneously. Five minutes later, I met Travis on the pool deck in a bright blue bikini.
“Su, uh, why the audience?” Achilles had jumped in the water as soon as he saw it and paddled around happily as I eyed the guys - who had conveniently chosen to eat their breakfasts outside.
“They, uh… Well, when we were trying to teach Jolene the ties on her top came loose.” Travis admitted with an embarrassed shrug.
“I’ll be right back.” I turned and went back inside, and emerged again with one of my jerseys thrown over my shoulder, checking the ties of my bathing suit. I could hear audible groans from the guys as I pulled the blue Thor riding jersey on over my bathing suit, and flashed Travis a smile.
“Alright, so the key to doing a backflip…”
A few minutes later I lay poolside with the wind knocked out of me from jumping off the upper deck into the pool - a backflip had accidentally turned into a belly flop.
“Let’s see it, Scottie! Let’s see that pink belly!” I flipped Tommy the bird as I regained my breath, and stripped the jersey off my chest. Apparently, I had managed to hit hard enough to draw blood from the pink skin of my legs.
“I will get this,” I growled, as Achilles licked my face. With the support of the dog and Travis, I got to my feet, set my jaw, slipped on the jersey again, and took a running leap off the diving board. Stretch, tuck, splat… right on my back. But it was alright. I swam to the surface, crawled out, and tried again. And Again. Just when I was about to quit, I completed a rotation, and actually hit the water with my feet.
I surfaced amid cheers, but really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the guys.
“So can we go get a bike out now?”
It a few minutes shy of midnight, and I was trying to hack into Travis Pastrana’s TV; insomnia was a strange thing. I didn’t mind not sleeping so much as having nothing to do while not sleeping - I would normally have read a book, but Jolene was already asleep and I was loathe to turn on the light and risk her wrath or something. If I hadn’t been worried about the lack of light or waking everyone in the house, I would have gone outside and raced on Travis’s dilapidated Motocross track. Frustrated, I picked up the first remote (the largest, I had placed them in size order) and ran my fingers down the buttons, hoping something would happen.
Success!
Finally, I could flip through the satellite channels with ease. Contrary to popular belief, there was always something interesting on at midnight, one just had to be very determined to find it; personally, I enjoyed the History Channel late at night, or Animal Planet, or if I had taken a few knocks on the head during practice, Comedy Central. Tonight, it was the History Channel’s documentary of Dracula’s Transylvania and Animal Planet’s Animal Cops: Houston for the commercials. After a few pats of Achilles’ enormous head, I traveled back into the kitchen for a glass of water, digging around in the cabinets for a cup before pouring tap water into it.
Which was when I heard it.
It had definitely been a scream - was the house just haunted, or was someone being murdered? I whistled softly to the great mutt on the couch to accompany me so I could play Nancy Drew safely. Curiosity killed the Scottie. Achilles and I followed a second shout out of the kitchen and into the “dining room” - which was really just filled with gear (from sponsors) and stuff - and then down a hall I hadn’t been down before. I could hear someone stumbling around, and silenced Achilles’ menacing growl as we turned around the corner.
“Travis?” At the end of the hallway he stood, staring out the window in nothing but his boxers with a look of absolute horror on his face. Tentatively, I reached out a hand and placed it on the middle of his back (because I didn’t want to get close enough to reach his shoulder), and called his name softly.
Suddenly, he spun around, eyes wide with fear as he grabbed both of my shoulders in his enormous, calloused hands. “I’m going to crash this time! You have to help me! I’m going to crash!”
“Travis, it’s alright, you’re not going to crash. Just wake up,” I spoke softly, as if soothing some sort of wild animal, and reached up to pinch his cheek as hard as I could. The look in his eyes instantly changed from terror to disorientation, like he didn’t know my face. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t… Uh…”
“Travis?”
“Scottie? What’re you… Aw, hell.” He threw his hands up in the air and walked back into what I assumed was his room, as I stood in shock. What the hell was wrong with these people? A minute later, Travis emerged from his room in a pair of basketball shorts with a t-shirt slung over his shoulder. “Sorry about that,” He reached down to pat Achilles’ great head for a minute, and as we walked back to the living room Travis explained this strange phenomenon.
“Night Terrors, huh?” I asked, retrieving a glass of water before we both sat down on the couch.
“Yeah, well. Why are you up?”
“I dunno, I just can never sleep. I’m always up. The doctors say it has something to do with fear, it makes no sense.” Travis nodded like he understood, which was a first because nobody could ever catch the concept.
“Suppressed fear.”
Somewhere around 3AM, while Animal Cops were saving an enormous, neglected Great Dane, I must have fallen asleep; I woke up sprawled across the couch with my head in Pastrana’s lap, Achilles on my stomach, and somehow Travis had curled around so that his head rested on Achi’s back. I felt just a little bit pinned down.
“Did I miss something?” Startled, I looked up at Gregg Godfrey, who’s face floated above mine.
“What time is it?” I felt Travis sit up groggily, and Achilles yawned as if we had inconvenienced him somehow by waking up.
“Today’s backflip day! Down, boy!” Obediently, Achilles climbed off my legs as I extracted myself from the couch; Travis eyed me incredulously.
“Uh… Scottie, Gregg. Gregg, Scottie.”
“Sorry, a little overexcited. Sorry.” I stuck out my hand to the shorter man. “Nice to meet you.”
“Backflip, you say?” Gregg looked at Travis as if questioning his sanity.
“Go get your swimsuit and meet me by the pool in ten minutes.” I raised an eyebrow at Travis, but did as I was told. Jolene slept on as I bustled around in our shared room; bustling in and out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth and dressed simultaneously. Five minutes later, I met Travis on the pool deck in a bright blue bikini.
“Su, uh, why the audience?” Achilles had jumped in the water as soon as he saw it and paddled around happily as I eyed the guys - who had conveniently chosen to eat their breakfasts outside.
“They, uh… Well, when we were trying to teach Jolene the ties on her top came loose.” Travis admitted with an embarrassed shrug.
“I’ll be right back.” I turned and went back inside, and emerged again with one of my jerseys thrown over my shoulder, checking the ties of my bathing suit. I could hear audible groans from the guys as I pulled the blue Thor riding jersey on over my bathing suit, and flashed Travis a smile.
“Alright, so the key to doing a backflip…”
A few minutes later I lay poolside with the wind knocked out of me from jumping off the upper deck into the pool - a backflip had accidentally turned into a belly flop.
“Let’s see it, Scottie! Let’s see that pink belly!” I flipped Tommy the bird as I regained my breath, and stripped the jersey off my chest. Apparently, I had managed to hit hard enough to draw blood from the pink skin of my legs.
“I will get this,” I growled, as Achilles licked my face. With the support of the dog and Travis, I got to my feet, set my jaw, slipped on the jersey again, and took a running leap off the diving board. Stretch, tuck, splat… right on my back. But it was alright. I swam to the surface, crawled out, and tried again. And Again. Just when I was about to quit, I completed a rotation, and actually hit the water with my feet.
I surfaced amid cheers, but really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the guys.
“So can we go get a bike out now?”