xp_logs | When It All Goes Wrong Again

Julio still can't shake the feeling that something's wrong, and he gets advice from a very odd place.

Julio sighed and sat up, clicking off the television. He'd been trying to take his mind off the feeling that he was missing something by mindlessly watching television, but that wasn't working. He got up and began to pace around the room, mentally going over things he might have missed. He'd done his homework, he was fairly certain Emilia's birthday wasn't for another three months, the exhibition match was in February, and he'd had all of his travel papers sorted out (having dual citizenship helped there) so what could it be? What was it he was forgetting? He shrugged and padded out of the room, perhaps he could talk Ana into making him a sandwich.

Meanwhile, the television turned itself back on.

"Hello, my friend, ever get the sensation your are missing something?" The announcer was white, but he spoke the rapid Spanish favored by most Mexican commercials. "You've gone over everything in your head but you can't find it?" He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited.

Cautiously, Julio stuck his head back in the room.

"It's nagging at you, day and night and won't let you sleep? Everyone tells you that you aren't missing something, and yet you can't shake the feeling?" The announcer smoothed his dark red hair back with one hand.

Julio looked over his shoulders to see if anyone else was there. Then he pointed a finger at himself, confused. "Nah..couldn't.."

"Yes, you! You! You right there!" the announcer pointed at Julio. "I know it's what you're feeling my friend, because many others feel like it too. And do you know what people do when they feel this sensation of lost?"

The boy moved to perch on the edge of the couch again. "What to do we do?" he asked, rhetorically.

"Why, they take a break!" The announcer declared. The picture changed, showing bright sunny pictures of a coastal Californian city. San Diego. "Beautiful San Diego, where you can relax, enjoy yourself and find out what exactly is missing!"

Julio snorted and got off the couch. "That's stupid," he said, and made to move out of the room.

"Wait!" the announcer said, "Do you want to keep feeling this way? Like you've lost something? Do you want to keep feeling like you're crazy?"

"I already am crazy, I'm talking to a tv!" Julio threw his hands up in the air. But...it did make sense. The feeling that he was missing something hadn't occurred until his father had mentioned San Diego. But what would he do when he was there? Where would he go? He didn't know anybody.

The tv switched commercials. This time, it was another white announcer, a strikingly ugly woman with red hair. It was one of those commercials that told you to change your life by going to trade school. "Doll, do you crave excitement? Adventure? Tired of always doing what you're supposed to be doing, being kept in a safe little box? You go to school, you come home, you play sports, you visit with your nice safe girlfriend.... my my my, aren't you bored?"

Julio shrugged. "A little." He confessed.

"You crave excitement, adventure, something to fill the hole in your daily boring existence. The nagging feeling that something is....lost?" The woman raised one artfully painted eyebrow and gestured with a extremely masculine hand. "And everyone thinks of you as the goody-two-shoes, the one who never do something exciting or rebellious. Because every time you try that ends so well..."

"Yeah," Julio said, nodding. "I don't want to be so coddled anymore."

"Well, honey, it's time to break out! Time for some excitement and adventure! Is there anywhere that you want to go?" The picture switched. "How about America? Plenty of opportunity there!"

Julio put his head in his hands. This was the second commercial that had told him to take off and leave. Why? Probably, because it was something that he'd been wanting to hear. It was true he was tired of his nice, safe life. And if there were answers waiting for him across the boarder, then...then he should go. He lifted his head. "How should I get there?"

The commercial switched, playing a jingle for a popular bus line. "The bus?" Julio wrinkled his nose. Only poor people used the bus. But, getting on a plane...his father might find him. And it was the old man's fault for trying to coddle him anyway. He jumped up. "I could leave tonight, be gone a few days, get my answers and then come back. I'll call the old man when I'm on the road so he can't trace me..." He smacked a fist into his hand. "I am completely insane," he turned and walked out of the room. They had to have a directory for the bus station.

Meanwhile, the tv switched back to the woman announcer, grinning triumphantly.

And John Forge is hating his existance, until he hears the right thing.

"....All new Infiniti 4-wheel drive. Perfect vehicle to take if you are dreaming of going elsewhere." The tv in the lounge was permanently set to show different types of cars while people waited on their vehicles. This particular one showed an SUV driving over open roads, practically screaming "take me! take me and we'll go to freedom!"

John glanced up to watch the Q45 sailing around otherwise abandoned mountain roads, with perfectly-placed fogbanks in the distance but ideal visibility on the road. Shaking his head, he wondered why no commercial ever showed the dull highway drive between Dallas and Corpus Christi.

Probably because more people would just fly, then, he supposed. Bad for business. Returning his attention to his computer, he pulled up a game of solitaire and began absently flipping cards.

The commercial switched, showing a generic spokesman in a suit and tie. His dark red hair was slicked back, and when he smiled, you could see the gap between his front teeth. "Hello my friend, job got you down? Going no where in your life?" He was leaning against a dark blue Nissan that the lot had just gotten in last week.

Glancing over at the television, Forge scowled, lazily giving the finger to the pitchman. "Nah, this is what I've always aspired to," he mumbled as he reached into his desk drawer for another contraband can of energy drink.

"Of course it has," the pitch man continued smoothly. "Why, what you need is a vacation! Yes, a vacation, my friend. In this Nissan Versa that I know is just sitting there, waiting for you to take her for a spin." He gave the hood of the car a friendly pat.

Eyebrow raised, John instinctively glanced over at the key rack. Hanging by itself on the bottom row, slowly swinging like a pendulum, was a key ring with the number '2' on it. Without thinking, he reached out to stop it swinging, then saw the familiar Nissan logo stamped into the keychain.

Glancing out to the lot, he saw a blue Versa, exactly like the commercial sitting by itself in the back row. The coincidence -because that was all it could be - made him smile, and he turned back to his solitaire.

The man in the commercial rolled his eyes, which went unnoticed by Forge. "Yes, my friend. Think of the excitement, the adventure! The doing of something that you really shouldn't be doing. You, my friend, are meant for something more in this life, and all you have to do is reach out and grab it! Screw the people in your life who are always keeping you down, who think you won't amount to anything! You'll show them!" The pitchman was growing steadily more excited, and he grinned and shook his fists triumphantly.

"You damn well bet I will..." Forge murmured, watching the cards bounce across the screen. Smiling, he spun his chair around, smoothly snatching the keys to the Versa off the rack. Pausing, he looked at the television and shook his head, reaching to put the keys back. "I mean, if I had anywhere to go."

The man in the commercial smoothed a hand over his hair and gestured. The picture changed to show the Nissan Versa driving down a down a rugged desert vista. "The Versa is well-equipped for long distance travel. The mountains of New Mexico would be a breeze, the deserts of Arizona. It could take you all the way to sunny San Diego," the picture changed again to show the car driving down a coastal freeway. "Haven't you always wanted to feel the salt breeze in your hair? The sweet taste of freedom?"

Forge stared at the screen. For a split-second, the blue Versa seemed to flicker, as if someone had replaced a single frame with that of a somewhat familiar black sports car, then back to the Versa zipping down a highway past a sign reading "San Diego - 410mi"

"Never been to the coast..." he said quietly, then cast a quick glance at Jeff's office door, still shut. "Oh, what the hell."

Spinning around in his chair, he pulled up the reservation software suite. "Nissan Versa... aha, there we are," he mumbled, holding the key ring in one hand and typing with the other. "Reservation under the name of... Galaweckzi, sure. Estimated time of return..."

With a smile, Forge hit "Accept", leaving the last field blank.

The commercial switched back to the man in the suit, who was grinning. "And remember, my friend, obey all traffic laws, and take time out to enjoy yourself. Even in the middle of nowhere. Good luck!" he saluted and the commercial switched. This one describing the comfort and safety of a Lexus.

Pausing for a moment at his desk with the keys in his hand, John looked from his right hand to his left, almost as if expecting to see something. Finally, he looked up and gave a quick middle finger in the direction of his manager's office. "Hell with you, fat man," he chuckled. "It's road trip time."