Tennis
What is your favorite thing to do to relax?
Bonnie was going stir crazy. They’d been on the road for over four weeks straight, hopping from case to case at a rate that was even more hectic than usual. Her eyes were blurring from staring at the computer, she felt sluggish from lack of physical activity, and the walls of the semi’s trailer just seemed to get closer and closer. She was about ready to join Michael in his perpetual lobbying for a vacation.
They were stopped at a rendezvous point waiting for Michael and Kitt to meet them. RC was in the cab with his headphones on looking quite relaxed. Bonnie was envious. She was wired and restless. She really needed to burn off some energy or she was afraid she was going to lose it.
Bonnie wanted to go for a long run, but it would be dark soon. Jogging three miles in the middle of nowhere at night by herself wasn’t exactly the brightest idea she’s ever had. She got up and paced the office area, looking for inspiration. She wandered into the kitchen and then to her closet of a bunk. God, she was starting to hate this place. She was considering the merits of beating something with a hammer when she spotted her tennis racket poking out from under her bunk. She pulled out her gym bag and found that she had in fact packed a canister of balls. Now all she needed was a court.
With her new-found inspiration Bonnie grabbed her equipment and headed outside. They were on a small state highway somewhere north of Wichita, Kansas in a deserted rest stop. There was a chain link fence along one end of the small parking lot, but she only had the three balls. Stopping to go collect them every few minutes was going to get tedious. She stared up at the black hulk of the semi. It was a tempting target, but aluminum and tennis balls weren’t a good combination - well, not if she liked her job. Which she did. Bonnie stared at the imposing truck thoughtfully for a moment before remembering that the back door, which doubled as a ramp, was thicker than average aluminum. After KARR had ploughed into it, they’d taken the opportunity to replace it with something stronger.
She strode around the back of the truck and eyed it up. It was a little higher than she’d like, but it would do. Bonnie backed up a few paces and pulled a ball out of the canister. She bounced it a few times and then tossed it over her head, arcing her racket back over her shoulder and swinging.
The ball whizzed across the distance, bounced against the pavement, and rebounded against the back of the truck. Bonnie stopped it with her racket when it came back her way. Not bad. Not great. Her serve had always been a little weak, even in her heydays in college. But not bad considering she was going on four weeks with no practice.
She tossed the ball and swung again. This time the racket sang as the ball hit dead center on the strings and flew with a better spring. She managed to catch the bounce back in one hand. Bonnie got in a few more serves in rapid succession before RC’s face appeared around the edge of the trailer.
“Eh, Bonnie, should I be callin’ the men in the white coats?” he asked as she served again.
“Not yet.”
He watched the serve ricochet off the back ramp with a raised eyebrow. “You know, if you put any dents in that ramp, the boss ain’t gonna be pleased.”
“I know. It’s reinforced. I don’t think I’ll be able to do much damage.”
“I don’t think Devon would like it either way.”
He was right about that. “He won’t know if no one tells him. See no evil, hear no evil . . .”
“Speak no evil. I got it. If it comes up, I was asleep,” he said, shaking head and walking back toward the cab.
Bonnie continued serving for a while and then started hitting the returns to practice her forehand and backhand. Her muscles were loosening up and it felt good to actually be getting some exercise. The nervous, stringy energy that had been driving her nuts was finally disappearing.
She kept it up until the sun had set and dusk made it too difficult to see the ball. She took one more serve at the ramp and then dropped the ball back into the canister and headed back inside feel a little more relaxed, a little more at peace.
Bonnie was going stir crazy. They’d been on the road for over four weeks straight, hopping from case to case at a rate that was even more hectic than usual. Her eyes were blurring from staring at the computer, she felt sluggish from lack of physical activity, and the walls of the semi’s trailer just seemed to get closer and closer. She was about ready to join Michael in his perpetual lobbying for a vacation.
They were stopped at a rendezvous point waiting for Michael and Kitt to meet them. RC was in the cab with his headphones on looking quite relaxed. Bonnie was envious. She was wired and restless. She really needed to burn off some energy or she was afraid she was going to lose it.
Bonnie wanted to go for a long run, but it would be dark soon. Jogging three miles in the middle of nowhere at night by herself wasn’t exactly the brightest idea she’s ever had. She got up and paced the office area, looking for inspiration. She wandered into the kitchen and then to her closet of a bunk. God, she was starting to hate this place. She was considering the merits of beating something with a hammer when she spotted her tennis racket poking out from under her bunk. She pulled out her gym bag and found that she had in fact packed a canister of balls. Now all she needed was a court.
With her new-found inspiration Bonnie grabbed her equipment and headed outside. They were on a small state highway somewhere north of Wichita, Kansas in a deserted rest stop. There was a chain link fence along one end of the small parking lot, but she only had the three balls. Stopping to go collect them every few minutes was going to get tedious. She stared up at the black hulk of the semi. It was a tempting target, but aluminum and tennis balls weren’t a good combination - well, not if she liked her job. Which she did. Bonnie stared at the imposing truck thoughtfully for a moment before remembering that the back door, which doubled as a ramp, was thicker than average aluminum. After KARR had ploughed into it, they’d taken the opportunity to replace it with something stronger.
She strode around the back of the truck and eyed it up. It was a little higher than she’d like, but it would do. Bonnie backed up a few paces and pulled a ball out of the canister. She bounced it a few times and then tossed it over her head, arcing her racket back over her shoulder and swinging.
The ball whizzed across the distance, bounced against the pavement, and rebounded against the back of the truck. Bonnie stopped it with her racket when it came back her way. Not bad. Not great. Her serve had always been a little weak, even in her heydays in college. But not bad considering she was going on four weeks with no practice.
She tossed the ball and swung again. This time the racket sang as the ball hit dead center on the strings and flew with a better spring. She managed to catch the bounce back in one hand. Bonnie got in a few more serves in rapid succession before RC’s face appeared around the edge of the trailer.
“Eh, Bonnie, should I be callin’ the men in the white coats?” he asked as she served again.
“Not yet.”
He watched the serve ricochet off the back ramp with a raised eyebrow. “You know, if you put any dents in that ramp, the boss ain’t gonna be pleased.”
“I know. It’s reinforced. I don’t think I’ll be able to do much damage.”
“I don’t think Devon would like it either way.”
He was right about that. “He won’t know if no one tells him. See no evil, hear no evil . . .”
“Speak no evil. I got it. If it comes up, I was asleep,” he said, shaking head and walking back toward the cab.
Bonnie continued serving for a while and then started hitting the returns to practice her forehand and backhand. Her muscles were loosening up and it felt good to actually be getting some exercise. The nervous, stringy energy that had been driving her nuts was finally disappearing.
She kept it up until the sun had set and dusk made it too difficult to see the ball. She took one more serve at the ramp and then dropped the ball back into the canister and headed back inside feel a little more relaxed, a little more at peace.