Thursday Afternoon

submission for our July Flash Fiction Contest

Billy Blake sat lying on his stomach at the edge of his bed staring into the small portable TV on his desk. On the screen two boys were shooting each other with the brand-new Ultra-Soaker 6000.

Billy sighed.

It was hot. Billy’s arms stuck to the slick black comforter on his car-bed. From the window, the hazy summer sun streaked across the bed and in Billy’s eyes. Billy sat up and looked outside longingly.

“What a crummy day.”

Only an hour ago Billy had been outside with his friends battling against the invading zombie hordes when his sister got hit with a stray grenade. Now she was soaked with water, his friends were sent home, and Billy was stuck inside.

On the small TV in front of Billy there was a man standing at the top of a waterslide.

“Has the summer heat got you down?”

“Yes,” Billy said, as he turned his back to the TV and reached for a glass of lemonade on his nightstand.

“Looking for a way to beat the heat?”

“Yes.”

“Come on down to the Waterin’ Hole!”

He was a young man, wearing a life preserver, and holding a microphone. Behind him, Billy could see the bright yellow water slide twisting and turning at least 100 feet into the gigantic pool below. 

“We’ve got slides! We’ve got rides! We’ve even got an arcade!”

“Aw man…” Billy muttered to himself. 

There was no way Billy’s parents would take him to the Waterin’ Hole today, after the grenade fiasco. 

“Slide on in! Don’t Delay! The Waterin’ Hole is here all day!”

Billy took a sip of the lemonade and put it back on the nightstand which had since turned into an inner-tube with cup holders.  

Billy looked down at the floor but his bed was floating in clear blue water.

“Come on in, Billy! The water is fine!” 

Billy jumped with surprise upon hearing his name. The young man turned and dove down the slide. The scene slowly began to morph and shift. 

Instead of a water park there was now an asphalt racetrack on the screen. The young man was standing in full racing gear off to the side holding a fuel can in his hands.

“Drive on down Billy, I’ll fill ‘er up for you! The race is about to start!”

“I don’t have a car…” He grumbled to himself.

“Sure you do, Billy.”

“You’re in it right now.”

The water was gone. Around him, there was now a guard rail and some hay bales to protect anyone who might crash. Billy sat up straight and realized his comforter, which had been printed to look like the black interior of his red corvette car-bed was now a soft sleek leather. 

The engine of Billy’s car-bed growled softly and Billy realized he was now sitting in the driver’s seat of his car-bed. He slowly pressed his foot down on the accelerator and the engine’s growl built to a roar. Billy placed his hands on the steering wheel, like he learned, and looked back up at the TV. The young man was still talking about the great adventures a boy could have down at The Track but he quickly looked straight into Billy’s eyes.

“First place gets the grand prize!”

At that moment two cars raced by. Billy could feel the blast of wind as they passed.

Until then Billy hadn’t noticed it, but the TV was growing larger. The screen, which had once been an old 8 inch black and white portable that Billy’s father, who worked for NASA, had given him on his tenth birthday, now displayed vibrant colors in crisp high definition. The screen filled nearly half the room now and continued to grow.

Billy gasped with exhilaration as he pressed down on the gas pedal again and the engine roared. He pulled the visor of his racing helmet down and made sure his driving gloves were nice and snug. He could hear the shouts of the crowd as he flew past the checkered flag!

“In first place, driving the red number seven, Billy Blake!!”

He imagined himself standing on the victor’s podium with his friend Nate at second, and Chip at third. He watched as a beautiful girl—who looked a lot like Jessie from across the street, which Billy thought was odd—put a championship medal around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

He saw crowds in the stands waving red number seven flags and shouting his name.

The screen now filled the entire room and Billy could only distantly see his bedroom as he peered into his rearview mirror. 

“You’ll be a winner down at The Track!” Shouted the young man, who now appeared to be only feet from Billy’s car. 

“Gentlemen, start your engines!” he shouted, and began waving the green flag he held.

Without thought, Billy put his foot down on the clutch and shifted the car-bed into first gear.

“Boys, have at it!” The young man dropped the green flag.

Billy slammed his foot on the accelerator and released the clutch. His tires squealed.

“Billy?”

Billy lurched with surprise. He straightened up and turned from staring at the small television on his desk and looked back at his bedroom door where his dad stood, peering in.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Go outside.”