Off Season

Off Season

Eric Walters

Copyright © 2003 Eric Walters

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Walters, Eric, 1957-

Off season / Eric Walters.

ISBN 1-55143-237-4

(Orca young readers)

I. Title. II. Series.

PS8595.A598O43 2003  jC813'.54  C2003-910199-1

PZ7.W17129Of 2003

Library of Congress Control Number:
2003101353

Summary
: Nick and Kia are just beginning to get the hang of life in the wilderness when a raging forest fire threatens to destroy Ned's home and cut off their escape.

Teachers' guide available from 1-800-210-5277 or
www.orcabook.com

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support of its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Department of Canadian Heritage, the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

Cover design by Christine Toller
Cover & interior illustrations by John Mantha / Mantha Designs
Printed and bound in Canada

IN CANADA
Orca Book Publishers
1030 North Park Street
Victoria, BC Canada
V8T 1C6

IN THE UNITED STATES
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468

05 04 03 • 5 4 3 2 1

Basketball certainly isn't life, but if it's played
well, it can teach some important essons about
life. Play, enjoy, live!

EW

“Under the ‘I,' seventeen.”

“Got it!” Kia said as she placed a marker on her bingo card.

“Under the ‘N,' thirty-four.”

“No good. If she'd call out ‘N' forty-four and then ‘O' sixty-nine, I'd have bingo.”

“Gee, wouldn't that be exciting,” I mumbled.

“More exciting than not playing. I don't know why you didn't get a card and play.”

“It's just too strange to be playing bingo on an air — ”

“Under the ‘O,' sixty-nine.”

Kia screeched with delight as she marked off the spot. “Just one more number.”

“You know what that means,” I said.

“Shut up, Nick.”

“Every time you get to one number left, somebody else wins the — ”

“Shut up, Nick.”

“Under the ‘B,' seven.”

“Bingo!” somebody yelled out from the back.

Kia shot me a dirty look, as if somehow my predicting it had made it come true, and if I'd kept my mouth shut the bingo wouldn't have happened.

“We have a bingo,” the announcer — the flight attendant — said. “Please hold onto your cards until the winning card has been checked.” She walked past us and down the aisle.

“I hope the prize isn't anything that I really wanted,” Kia said.

“You mean like food?” I asked. “What I really want is a meal.”

The flight attendant came back up the aisle and picked up the microphone. “We have a winner.”

There were groans that echoed throughout the plane.

“And that was our last game,” she continued and even louder groans followed.

“Your attendants will be coming and collecting your cards and markers. Thank you for participating in bingo — a game where the stakes aren't high, but where the players are … thirty-two thousand feet high.”

“This has got to be the craziest airline in the whole world,” I said, shaking my head.

“It has been a little different.”

“A little?” I questioned. “No movie, no meals, no headphones, pillows or blankets.”

“Bargain airlines don't give you the extra things. That's why the flight was so cheap. Besides, I liked playing bingo and that one flight attendant was really funny.”

I couldn't argue with that. He had gotten up and given us our safety instructions just before we took off. He then went on to give the “Top Ten Reasons to Fly a Discount Airline.” These reasons included “They let you fly inside the plane,” “You don't have to worry about what the first-class passengers are eating,” and “They can park the plane anywhere because they're not afraid of it getting dented by the other planes' doors.”

“How are you two doing?” another one of the flight attendants asked as she hovered over us.

“Good, fine,” I said.

Maybe it was a discount airline, but all the flight attendants had been really friendly to us. They took turns coming over and talking to us and offering us drinks of pop — there wasn't a meal on the flight, but they'd provided enough Coke, pretzels and cookies to fill us up.

I guess they really didn't have much choice
but to watch us. I'd turned ten in April and Kia's tenth birthday wasn't until September 19 and my Mom had told me that they had to supervise us because we were traveling on our own. Whatever the reason, I found it reassuring. Especially since I really didn't like flying at all to begin with.

“Are we landing soon?” I asked.

“We're going to start our descent within fifteen minutes and be on the ground within thirty.”

“We'll be landing?”

“That's usually how we like to end our flights — with a landing,” she said and Kia chuckled.

“I guess the only other choices are to either stay up in the air or smash into a mountain,” Kia said.

“One isn't possible and the other we don't even like joking about,” the flight attendant said.

“Sorry,” Kia apologized.

“When we do land I want you two to stay in your seats until the other passengers have deplaned. I'll be escorting you off the plane to meet your party. Who will be waiting for you?”

“Ned and his mother, Debbie,” Kia said.

“Ned's my cousin,” I explained. Ned was my age. We were even born on the same day, although I was three hours older. We were going to be spending a week with Ned and his parents in the mountains where they lived. His father was a park ranger and he lived and worked in a national park.

“Aren't they your cousins too?” the flight attendant asked Kia.

“Just friends … Nick and I aren't related.”

“I just assumed you were brother and sister.” She paused and smiled. “You seem a little bit too young to be a married couple.”

“We're not!” Kia protested.

“Friends!” I exclaimed. “Best friends since we were little.”

I was so tired of people making jokes or snide comments about Kia and me being boyfriend and girlfriend or how we sometimes acted like an “old married couple” — my mother had said that about us.

“I should have known you were just friends,” the flight attendant said. “If you were married, you would have been fighting over who gets the window seat.”

“There's no argument there,” I said. I didn't like heights and I wanted to be as far away from the window as possible. I even leaned into the
aisle when we took off.

There was a little pinging bell sound and the “fasten seat belt” lights went on.

“It looks like we're preparing for landing,” the flight attendant said. She walked away down the aisle.

“Don't be nervous,” Kia said.

“I'm not nervous,” I lied.

“Flying in a plane is safer than driving a car.”

“Flying is safe. Takeoffs and landings aren't,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Accidents don't happen in the air. They happen when the plane is taking off or landing,” I explained.

“We've already taken off.”

“I noticed.”

“And in ten minutes or so we'll be on the ground.”

“That's what I'm counting on. On the ground and — ”

The little bell pinged again.

“Can I have your attention please,” a male voice requested over the intercom. “We are making our final approach into Kelowna International Airport. The weather is warm, sunny, with a strong breeze from the northwest. It is
a perfect day to be on the ground.” He paused. “Unfortunately, due to the strong winds, the perfect place to be isn't in the air. We will experience strong turbulence … Turbulence is the fancy aeronautical term for bumpy … really bumpy.”

“Great, just great,” I mumbled.

“Raise your hand if you like roller coasters,” the captain said.

Kia's hand shot up into the air. I liked roller coasters even less than I liked airplanes.

“I really can't see if your hand is in the air because I'm flying the plane, but those of you who like amusement park rides might be in for a little bonus at no additional cost. Please recheck and tighten your seat belts, make sure the trays are up, your seat is in the fully upright position and try to keep all of your limbs inside the vehicle until it comes to a complete and full stop.”

“What did he say?” I gasped.

“He was making a joke,” Kia said.

“Why does everybody on this plane think they're a stand-up comic?”

“Hopefully he's a
sit-down
comic,” Kia said. “Like sitting down in the captain's chair in the cockpit. Get it?”

“I get it … and I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“There's at least one person on this plane who isn't funny … you.”

“Now you two
do
sound like an old married couple,” the flight attendant said as she stood over us once again.

“Prior to landing your flight attendants will go over the safety features of our aircraft and point out the emergency exits. This is required by law and is not an indication of how they feel about my abilities as a pilot.”

Kia chuckled. “He
is
funny.”

“That's just what I want in a pilot. I can see the headlines in the newspaper — the head of the airline is quoted as saying he doesn't know why the plane hit the mountain because the pilot was ‘one of our funniest'.”

Kia started to ramble on about me being too negative and I tried to block her out. Maybe it was just a regulation but I really, really did want to be reminded where the emergency exits were located.

“What was that sound?” I gasped. A whirring, mechanical noise vibrated beneath our feet.

“That's the landing gear going down,” Kia said. “I heard it's always best to have it down when you land.”

At that same instant I could feel the plane
slowing down, and my ears were becoming more plugged up. I chewed harder on the wad of gum in my mouth. The plane suddenly did a little dip and I felt my stomach shoot up into my throat. Maybe not having any meals wasn't such a bad idea. If I did throw up it was only going to be a mixture of pretzels, cookies and Coke. The thought of that particular mix didn't do anything to ease the queasy feeling in my stomach. I reached into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of me and pulled out the airsick bag.

“You're not going to bring up are you?” Kia asked.

“Hopefully not,” I said. “I just want to be prepared.”

The plane dipped again, this time bigger, and then swung to one side. I gave a little burp.

“That's more like it,” Kia said.

I put the bag down on my lap, held onto the armrests tightly and closed my eyes. The plane swayed and rocked and dipped. This didn't seem any better. Maybe my eyes couldn't see what was happening, but my stomach certainly could feel it — and it was my stomach that was causing all the problems to begin with. I opened up my eyes just as the plane bounced and the
tires squealed. We'd touched down!

For the first time I dared to glance out the window. The green grass and the cement of the runway whizzed by us. The engines roared as the pilot used reverse thrust to brake, and the scenery started to pass more slowly by the window.