I did consider making the guys walk across the mountains, but in the end, I decided that that trek was a whole 'nother story. So aloft we go!
Aloft I had worries, lots of them about the balloon, none of which Ben seemed to share. And as we got things pulled about and the silk laid out on the ground (and not on the water, which Ben suggested at first) and we untangled ropes and lines and turned the burner on and then remembered to make sure that the basket was tied down to something, some of his optimism started to rub off on me. Then, as the balloon began to fill with hot air, and we saw the huge bag, so long that I had to walk for nearly thirty seconds to get from one end to the other start to bulge and push upwards it felt like we actually knew how to fly this thing. My stomach rumbled, and I checked the basket; no, we were definitely out of food. Ben and I have gone hungry before now, but it's always been with the knowledge that there'll be somewhere to eat at the end of it. Now... I wasn't so sure. "There's fish in the lake." Ben's timing was impeccable. "We got anything to get 'em out with?" Ben frowned. "When I was young we used to tickle trout," he said. If his face hadn't been so serious I would have laughed. "But these don't look like trout to me; I'd say these want fly fishing." I shrugged. "That need a rod?" "I guess so." Ben sighed, and for a moment I wondered what it would be like to stand on a river bank with him, just fishing and enjoying the summer day. Then I realised that the likelihood of us managing that depended entirely on us getting too old to do anything more exciting and put the thought away. At least until retirement. "Better get on our way then," I said. "Unless you want to find a rabbit to shoot?" Ben shook his head. "No small game tracks in the woods," he said. "Strange really, that usually means that something else has chased it all off. Or eaten it." "You say the most comforting things," I said. "Yeti, maybe?" "Too far south," said Ben, chuckling. "Maybe it's a fire-breathing duck." Thankfully the balloon pulled itself up into the air and held there at that moment, so I didn't have to embarrass myself by looking nervously across the lake. Just in case, alright? Just in case. I'd seen stranger things. Fifteen minutes later the basket was pulling away from the ground, so Ben jumped in, and I ran around loosening the ropes. The plan was to loosen them so that they'd slowly pull free, just as I got into the basket. Instead, three of them pulled free just as I was loosening the fourth, and the balloon started going aloft with me hanging on to the end of the rope. "Pull me in!" I yelled, and when I noticed that Ben was laughing too hard to do anything useful I had to haul myself along the rope, arm by burning arm until I could grab the side of the basket and pull myself over the edge. I collapsed on the bottom of it, my arms both burning hot and cold and leaden at the same time, my heart pounding in my chest and blood singing in my ears, my vision going a little dark then lightening again, and tried to breathe. "That was funnier than the time we tried synchronized swimming," said Ben between snorts of laughter. "You tried synchronized swimming," I said. "I can't swim, remember?" "You were in the water," laughed Ben. "Which is why you were laughing! Aargh, I can't feel my fingers at all. Everything's just tingling." I suddenly went cold all over. "Ben? Ben, quit laughing. I can see the ground." "Yeah, it's below us." "Through the bottom of the basket, Ben!"
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I did consider making the guys walk across the mountains, but in the end, I decided that that trek was a whole 'nother story. So aloft we go!
Aloft
I had worries, lots of them about the balloon, none of which Ben seemed to share. And as we got things pulled about and the silk laid out on the ground (and not on the water, which Ben suggested at first) and we untangled ropes and lines and turned the burner on and then remembered to make sure that the basket was tied down to something, some of his optimism started to rub off on me. Then, as the balloon began to fill with hot air, and we saw the huge bag, so long that I had to walk for nearly thirty seconds to get from one end to the other start to bulge and push upwards it felt like we actually knew how to fly this thing. My stomach rumbled, and I checked the basket; no, we were definitely out of food. Ben and I have gone hungry before now, but it's always been with the knowledge that there'll be somewhere to eat at the end of it. Now... I wasn't so sure.
"There's fish in the lake." Ben's timing was impeccable.
"We got anything to get 'em out with?"
Ben frowned. "When I was young we used to tickle trout," he said. If his face hadn't been so serious I would have laughed. "But these don't look like trout to me; I'd say these want fly fishing."
I shrugged. "That need a rod?"
"I guess so." Ben sighed, and for a moment I wondered what it would be like to stand on a river bank with him, just fishing and enjoying the summer day. Then I realised that the likelihood of us managing that depended entirely on us getting too old to do anything more exciting and put the thought away. At least until retirement.
"Better get on our way then," I said. "Unless you want to find a rabbit to shoot?"
Ben shook his head. "No small game tracks in the woods," he said. "Strange really, that usually means that something else has chased it all off. Or eaten it."
"You say the most comforting things," I said. "Yeti, maybe?"
"Too far south," said Ben, chuckling. "Maybe it's a fire-breathing duck."
Thankfully the balloon pulled itself up into the air and held there at that moment, so I didn't have to embarrass myself by looking nervously across the lake. Just in case, alright? Just in case. I'd seen stranger things.
Fifteen minutes later the basket was pulling away from the ground, so Ben jumped in, and I ran around loosening the ropes. The plan was to loosen them so that they'd slowly pull free, just as I got into the basket. Instead, three of them pulled free just as I was loosening the fourth, and the balloon started going aloft with me hanging on to the end of the rope.
"Pull me in!" I yelled, and when I noticed that Ben was laughing too hard to do anything useful I had to haul myself along the rope, arm by burning arm until I could grab the side of the basket and pull myself over the edge. I collapsed on the bottom of it, my arms both burning hot and cold and leaden at the same time, my heart pounding in my chest and blood singing in my ears, my vision going a little dark then lightening again, and tried to breathe.
"That was funnier than the time we tried synchronized swimming," said Ben between snorts of laughter.
"You tried synchronized swimming," I said. "I can't swim, remember?"
"You were in the water," laughed Ben.
"Which is why you were laughing! Aargh, I can't feel my fingers at all. Everything's just tingling." I suddenly went cold all over. "Ben? Ben, quit laughing. I can see the ground."
"Yeah, it's below us."
"Through the bottom of the basket, Ben!"
Greg - seems like a wise choice :)
Enjoyed the fire breathing duck thing, particularly Red's response to it. And that... was a proper Ben and Red takeoff if I've ever seen one.
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