Pitch: First Season 9 Chapter 9 Under Wheel

"Dude, it's just until we get to the Festival," Wes debated with me.

"Wes, the floors are sticky as h.e.l.l, the mirrors are hanging on by a thread, and it smells like a bull's jockstrap," I said jokingly but holding an air of seriousness.

"It's just two days," he said.

I hated we couldn't take a plane, but neither of us had that kind of money. Not to mention, with my luck, I was bound to cause some sort of accident.

"That's a long time," I said.

"When we make it, I'll owe you one," he added.

Before I could say anything else, Wes and I cut the conversation short when Russell walked back outside from the house.

"We ready to go?" Russell asked as he got in the driver's seat.

Russell was a lot bigger and buffer than Wes. Standing side by side, Wes looked like the before picture of a "how to bulk up" work out regimen while Russell looked like the after. With more fur and more prominent horns, Russell seemed to lean into his goat side more than his human side. At least he wore a jacket like Wes rather than going all-out nude.

Wes got in the front pa.s.senger seat, leaving me to be the last to get in. Reluctantly I opened the car door and stepped in.

"Yea, we're ready," I said as I shut the car door.

It's times like those that made me wish I could wear shoes.

Day 1

I left town with my best friend and his cousin, who had just been in trouble with the law a few months prior. I'm sure my dad would not have approved. He would have hated the car we left town in before even getting to the matter of who was driving it. So much for being the good kid he raised me to be, but what was the harm as long as things went according to plan. I was beginning to sound like my mother, but I had to justify my actions to myself somehow. Honestly, it wasn't hard to justify after a while, especially since dad wasn't around to talk me out of it. None the less, all I had to hope for was a smooth trip to STR. If we could make it without blowing up, driving off a cliff, or running from the cops, then it would be good enough for me.

The trip from Montana to New Mexico was a 20-hour drive. Of course, we had to take a few pit stops and rest at night, but we should have made it in two days.

On the road, I forced myself to ignore the constant sensation of something slick under my feet. The scent of sweat was heavy, and the summer heat made it dense enough to taste with every breath I took. I could tell I was bringing down the mood in the car. It was too quiet. Even with the music going, I could tell my constantly having to shift or adjust in the backseat was making everyone uncomfortable. I tried to get my mind off the discomfort as best I could by breaking the silence.

"So Wes told me you've been to STR before," I said to Russell after an hour and a half of painful silence.

The weight on everyone suddenly got lighter. I said I'd try to give Russell a chance. I said I'd try to relax. I said a lot of things because I wanted to trust my friend's judgment. I had to try some kind of way.

"Yea, little man, I've been three times now," Russell said with a grin I saw in the rearview mirror.

"What's it like," I asked.

"It's always different. Last year they held it on this island in the middle of the Pacific, and the year before that it was up in the mountains. Its never in the same place twice, so you never know what to expect," Russell said.

"Thanks for coming with us by the way, I know we asked last minute," Wes said

"You're good cuz, not like I had anything better to do," Russell stated.

"What do you do anyway?" I asked.

"What's up," Russell asked before I made myself clear.

"Wes told me you travel a lot. Do you do that for like a job or something?" I asked.

"Oh! Naw, little man, I'm on a spiritual quest," he said.

"A quest?" Wes and I both questioned.

"To find the world's best a.s.s," Russell joked.

"Dude," Wes exclaimed as if he were embarra.s.sed for me.

"I'm f.u.c.king with you. Yea, it's a part of my job, or it was until I was fired. Now I travel because I can."

There was an off sound that came from the car. I'm sure we all heard it because it cut the conversation short.

"What was that," I asked.

"Probably a rabbit under a wheel or something ...no offensive," Russell said.

"None taken, but that didn't sound like something under a wheel," I added.

"It's an old car, makes all sorts of sounds, I'm sure its nothing," he said.

We drove for about 7 to 8 hours straight before finally stopping at a motel for the night. Russell seemed to be right, we heard plenty of those noises come from the car, but we made it to a rest stop with little to no issue.

My legs were so stiff as we got out of the car. We all did a bit of an impromptu stretch before Russell left Wes and me to get a room.

"What I tell you, not too bad, right?" Wes questioned as if he needed my approval.

"Dude, I have your cousin's j.i.z. under my feet," I said before stopping myself.

I sighed and pulled myself back.

"But I guess it could be worse," I added in an attempt at looking to the bright side.

Wes pulled me under his arm, happy to see I'd loosened up. We walked around the lot for a while getting air in our legs while we waited for Russell to come back.

"Pitch, man, I'm glad you came with me over some internship," Wes said.

"Yea," I said, knowing technically I didn't decide.

"I mean it like you don't get how cool you are."

"I didn't realize getting into life-threatening accidents was cool."

"Dude, you can hear stuff from miles away."

"I can hear through cheap walls," I corrected.

"You can go invisible."

"Only when I'm completely naked," I added.

"And you're a rabbit," he said like it was the best part.

"Half rabbit, unless most of the rabbits you know are 5 feet tall and walk upright," I joked.

Wes had to be the most optimistic person I ever met, second only to my dad, but I just couldn't see myself as anything special. Or nothing special in the right way. Having a few extra skills never felt like enough to make up for being the kid who cursed himself. If it weren't for the bad luck, I could have lived with my new form. It came with slight perks. It would have been shallow to say no one wanted a hybrid, especially when my best friend was one. But when people saw me, they could visibly see the mistake I made, and that's why I couldn't accept what I was. It didn't matter if rabbits were cool, or I had powers when people saw the long ears and fur. I knew all they could really see were my mistakes and failure to fix them.

"You know you're the only person I know from school who hasn't tried to f.u.c.k me," he added casually.

"Wow, that's...that's...dude," I stumbled, but with his arm still around my shoulder, I didn't pull away.

"And you're smart as h.e.l.l. You're always willing to help me and the a.s.sholes from school who treat you like c.r.a.p. Man, you're like top tier," he said.

Things were getting extra cheesy, but part of me didn't mind the compliments. Coming from a stand-up guy like Wes, the words had weight to them.

"Am I cutting into something, I'd say get a room, but I just paid for ours," Russell said and surprised us enough for Wes to let me fall away from under his arm.

It was a little awkward how he suddenly let me go, almost like he'd done something wrong he needed to hide. He quickly helped me back up to my feet, though.

We spent the rest of the night in our motel room. That awkward tension between Wes and I made a comeback, but I think I was beginning to be used to it. Wes was more open and comfortable about things than I was. His family was basically nudist, after all. Knowing he was a more casual person than I made it easier to avoid looking too far into when he broke boundaries. For him, those boundaries I carried probably never existed. Wes was one of if not my best friend. If we couldn't be blunt or unfiltered with one another, even about the awkward stuff, then who could I be loose with? In a way, his ability to say whatever was on his mind, without worrying whether or not I'd think it gay or too much, made me question if I worried too much about filtering myself. Wes came out to me only a day ago, and he did it so smoothly I almost couldn't believe it. I, on the other hand, never shared anything like that with anyone. Not my mom, dad, BJ, or Wes. To be fair, I couldn't say whether or not I was into guys or not. Don't get me wrong I always knew I liked girls, but I never asked myself if I was interested in anything else. My s.e.xuality was never as big a focus as dealing with being a rabbit. That being said, I never shared how my transformation made me depressed or even talked about the stress and terror of always almost being killed by freak accidents. I was lucky enough that my dad saw it sometimes, but not always. I hid a lot of things from my friends and family but never knew why. It could have been my ego or my shame, but I was nowhere near as open and comfortable as my friend.

The funny thing is, ever since I split myself in two, I don't think I had a single episode of depression or anxiety. I split all of myself in half, so maybe that also cut my bad parts down too. Maybe being around Wes kept me happy enough to avoid my negatives. Come to think of it; I hadn't been in a single freak accident ever since my split either.

Day 2

The next morning rolled in slowly. With no alarms set, the daylight woke us. After showering and eating breakfast from a vending machine, we all got in the car ready to hit the road again. Unfortunately, I was right about my initial a.s.sessment of those noises we heard the previous day. My dad worked two jobs. One was being a manager at a fast-food place, and the other was as a mechanic. He didn't always bring his work home, but he did enough for me to know a little about cars.

Russell's car wouldn't start.

"Don't worry, you guys. Happens all the time," Russell said, trying to rea.s.sure us of the situation.

"So what are we gonna do," Wes asked.

"Wait it out," Russell said.

"But what are we waiting for," I questioned.

"When this sort of thing happens, it's best to give it some time; usually a few hours is enough for it to work itself out," he said.

"That's not how cars work," I said.

"That's how mine works," Russell said with a grin.

It was Russell's car. In a world full of magic, who was I to say a vehicle couldn't magically fix itself.

Day 3

That car was not going to fix itself magically. We killed an entire day waiting and trying the engine over and over again with no luck.

"Why don't we call a mechanic or something," I asked.

"Do you have mechanic money?" Russell asked rhetorically.

"No," I said.

"Neither do I, little man," he said.

My dad would have been able to help us. I'm sure if I called him, he could have talked me through fixing whatever was wrong, but then he'd have been p.i.s.sed that I left town without telling him. Then he'd be p.i.s.sed when he realized I split myself in half with a spell I got from mom.

I almost thought the car trouble was my fault. It had been days since my last freak accident, so I was due for something extra bad. Whenever my luck was to blame, my life was usually at stake. Car trouble was less than life-threatening, so as far as I could tell, I wasn't responsible.

"Maybe I can fix it," I suggested.

Having my dad's help would have made it easier, but I believed I had enough second-hand skills to try fixing the problem.

"What do you know about cars?" Russell asked.

"My dad is a mechanic."

"I thought your dad was a fry cook?" Wes asked.

"He's a manager at 'Smash Box' and a mechanic," I corrected.

"Try whatever you want little man, I'm gonna be across the street," Russell said before leaving us.

It's like he didn't care.

"Is it safe for your cousin to be drinking?" I asked Wes as I noticed Russell walking straight for a bar.

"Relax, satyrs like us can hold our liquor," Wes said.

That wasn't what I meant, but I didn't want to push the issue.

"Do you really think you can fix the car?" Wes asked as I popped the hood.

"Well, there's no smoke, so that's good," I said.

I knew a little, but I didn't know enough. While I was able to distinguish between different parts, I was clueless as to which one was the problem. Wes kept me company while I played grease monkey, but I'm sure after a while he could tell I wasn't getting anywhere. Eventually, I had to call it, the car won, and I lost. I shut the hood.

"Ok, so plan B," Wes said optimistically.

"What plan B?" I asked.

"I don't know. There must be something else we can do. Why don't you call your dad?"

"I can't," I said.

"If he's a mechanic shouldn't he know what to do," Wes added.

"My phone is wrecked, remember, I can't call anyone," I said, trying to deflect.

"Do you know his number, you can use my phone," he said.

He took his phone out of his jacket pocket and tried to hand it to me.

"I think I'm close to fixing it, I just need a little more time," I said.

"But, if your dad can help?" Wes added.

I walked around to get into the driver's seat. Russell left the keys, so I figured why not try starting the engine again.

"I just need a little more...," I said before I turned the key, and like magic, the car started.

"Did I do that?" I asked myself.

"Dude, you fixed it," Wes cheered, and I was relieved to see him put his phone away.

But I didn't do anything. Literally, the only thing I did was look around the inside of the car. I didn't change, move, or fix anything.

"Let's go get my cousin," Wes said, pulling me out of the car to head across the street.

I was still in shock and disbelief. How did I fix the car?

By that time, it was dark out. Russell must have spent at least a good 3 or 4 hours at that bar, "The Splint." Wes and I both noticed something was off as we approached the front entrance. There were a bunch of people knocked out, lying around the door.

"What the f.u.c.k," I asked out of confusion.

We had to kick and nudge people out of the way just to get the door open. Once inside, it was like traversing a minefield. There were more bodies lying around, broken gla.s.s, and the sound of off-key live music playing in the background.

"f.u.c.k," Wes said, as we both caught sight of Russell standing at the bar ordering another drink with his knuckles bloodied and raw.

His fur was blood-soaked in so many spots there was no question of what went down.

It was a bad time to make a joke, but I couldn't help myself.

"What happened to Satyr like you can hold your liquor?" I said.

Wes knew the severity of the situation as well as I did, but we laughed just the same.

"We need to go," Wes said

"Definitely," I said before we walked over to Russell.

"Hey cuz, little man, what brings you to the splint," Russell said between taking sips of his drink.

"We got the car running," I said.

"s.h.i.t! How'd you do that?" he said, slurring his words.

The bartender poured his drinks out of fear. From the looks of it, Russell got into one h.e.l.l of a bar fight and won hands down. The longer we stood there the clearer something became.

"We need to go," Wes said.

People were moaning in agony, which meant two things. The first being that no one was dead, and the second being that people were beginning to wake up.

"Let's stay another night," Russell pleaded.

"Rus, we need to go," Wes pleaded.

"Can you drive?" I asked Wes as we pulled Russell away from the bar.

It took all of our strength to get Russell to stand. Drunk or not, he was a big guy.

"No, can you?" Wes replied.

We got outside with relative ease if you didn't mention how heavy Russell was and how many times he tried to reach for another drink. By the time we started crossing the street, people were getting up.

"You guys, we can stay one more night, just one more," Russell mumbled.

"We're leaving," Wes said to his cousin as we stuffed him in the backseat of the car like an adult toddler.

I could feel the numbers growing behind us like zombies. Wes and I got in the front and It was on me to drive. I started to pull out of the parking lot but quickly found that the car was being surrounded.

"s.h.i.t!" I said as I turned on the headlights and saw the crowd of broken bar-goers blocking the way.

"Just drive," Wes exclaimed.

"But what if I," I stumbled.

"Dude, Drive!" Wes said louder as hands started hitting the car and trying to open the doors.

I drove off as quickly as I could, and I'm sure I ran over several people's feet. All the while, Russell was in the back laughing his a.s.s off drinking from a bottle of beer I don't remember him having.

The adrenaline coursed through me for a while before I finally mellowed out. I must have been speeding for a long time before I realized the danger was well behind us. Wes and I both laughed as we heard the sound of Russell snoring in the backseat. I couldn't be p.i.s.sed or even exaggerate anger. I'd been through too may life or death situations for what we went through that night to get to me. I think Wes laughed because we got through it, but I laughed because those suspicions and fears I held back about having Russell be our third were confirmed that night. And we were stuck with him.

"So he didn't have mechanic money, but drunk bar fight money," I said jokingly.

"Dude, you just ran a red light," Wes said with a grin.

"It's my first time driving without my dad," I said.

"Well, you're better at it than me," he said.

Day 4

We drove none stop. I don't think Wes or I were willing to let Russell take the wheel even after he sobered up. We didn't hold it against him that he got drunk and started a bar fight, but from there on out, he was the third wheel to our duo.

We made it to the edge of the STR festival by day's end.