Buckle Up

Everyone was frozen, and probably just as confused as I. It seemed that there was something off with the level of our ride. Thanks to the gyroscopic nature of Victor's lap, that was like a self leveling nest, I was pretty ok, and all the parcels I held were still in order. However, the head levels of Sergy to Kazy created a sloped mountain effect, with Passo looking like a protruding hood ornament.

Then, we all looked at the iron pole that was sticking out right in between the carriage and the bike. That was new. And waaaay too close to my head for comfort.

Slowly, we dared to begin to move. Checking for any broken or missing limbs. Everything was attached and mobile.

I was finally out of the lap, standing on my wobbly feet. Gradually beginning to feel that there will be a nice bruise growing over back of both of my thighs, where they were touching the side of the cart. I was sure that we will all feel this trip in our bones for at least a couple of days.

When boys were pulling the bike off the pole, they were merrily laughing at the fact that the only thing that left the vehicle at the time of impact were the marbles in their escape shoot.

The bike was stuck on now leaning iron pole that was right between the cart and the bike. It was like a bull mounting a cow, the bike climbed up the leaning pole and refused to let go.

Eventually the show was over. The bike was dismounted. And we all begun looking for our marbles in the grass, literally. However, I was questioning whether some of our figurative marbles should be reexamined with how blasé we all were about the entire event.

In no time boys found all the marbles, turns out they were trained to sense energy, since marbles were fully charged it was effortless for them.

With the war relic showing no sign of damage, it was escorted to the top of the hill and onto the road. I looked at the leaning pole of our adventure, said a silent apology to it, and trotted behind the group.

It was really hard not to say that we could have done this from the start when we were reloading ourselves onto the vehicle. But my annoyance probably showed on my face since the guys just grinned when they saw it, expecting me to complain. Nope! I'm not gonna be typecast as a nag, y'all are perfectly aware of what you did without my input.

When we have reached the part of the road, where dirt road packed with gravel turned into dirt trail, I was beginning to appreciate my double seat padding created by a cushion called Victor. The extra high bumps and rumble strips created with hardened mud, that was pushed up by previously passing vehicles on rainy days were insufferable. This shortcut made our metal war horse jump and buck so hard trying to get rid of us that I caught myself missing our flying phase.

By the time we arrived to the lake camp area I was mentally done with the whole event. After Passo grabbed the parcels from my lap, and Losi got me out and put me on the solid ground, I wobbled a little forward and just dopped to the ground. Laying down in the green, fresh smelling grass, I rolled over and looked up at the blue sky while trying to re-calibrate my sense of balance. Everything still felt wobbly. It wasn't even noon yet…

I looked to my left and through the green blades I saw Seta sitting at the camp bench, behind a long wooden table inside a semi open, but still covered stilted hut. With her dress back to normal length, and the usual deadpan expression, you'd think nothing happened. Being cushioned by two meat shields, I'm not even sure she saw enough to be affected. Ignorance is bliss.

Looking down my feet, the serene water reflected sunshine through the tall Reed Grasses. My whole jumping in to the body of water enthusiasm was gone. I decided to rest more and closed my eyes while the guys unloaded and set stuff up. I am not going to be helpful today.

My rest was interrupted by a cool shadow stealing the sun's warmth.

"You alive?" I heard familiar, but audaciously smirking voice.

"Yup. Go away and be useful." I said as I heard clanking and chatting in the background. Guys were clearly still setting stuff up.

"Come on, talk to me." I heard a mock version of a hurt tone.

"Maybe later." Nothing was gonna make me open my eyes and socialize, at least for an hour, this was my final decision. I was annoyed at how close we sounded with each other. Maybe there is something about that theory about people growing closer from going through extreme situations?

"HA-Chooo!" I sneezed like a broken horn from the tickling feeling that just went up my nose, and all the way to the back of my throat. I sat up glaring at the bastard that crouched near me, still holding the feather part of the Reed Grass, the fluffy culprit which just entered my nostrils. With the infuriating grin on his smug face, he rolled the straw mockingly in his fingers.

"THE HELLLLL!!! Blergh!" My outraged shout was interrupted by the evil feather reed grass landing on my tongue.

That's it! I reached out for the damn straw with a leap. Within seconds, Victor caught my back with his right arm and used my inertia to roll me over his left side. I ended up landing under him, getting pinned down under the weight of his right knee separating my legs.

My mind went blank....

Did I just follow a cat toy into this?….

What is this predicament I got myself into?!

His right arm slowly slid up my back, trailing my spine with its fingers, and raising my right arm out of the resistance pivot spot it was on, consequently destroying one of the pillars that his chest was resting on. He got a hold of the nape of my neck, tightly squeezing my hair he gradually pulled it down thus rising my chin…