Alan's Rug

Alan Tracy opened his eyes and yawned. He was lying on the floor of his room again. The bed really was softer and warmer; so why did he always seem to wake up sleeping on the floor? His brothers had long ago ceased to find it a source of amusement, but Alan himself still had not worked out the reason. Was he just being contrary, as John had once accused him? It was since dad's crash it had started happening. He rolled over on to his back and sat up. Secretly he knew the reason of course. The reason all of them had changed in subtle ways since dad's...Alan blinked the thought away.

Scott had once always been the epitome of discretion and self-control. Now he was a great deal more overtly passionate. Or to put it another way, he cared even more than he ever had done before, if that was possible, but he was less able to control his frustrations when uncaring or selfish people outraged his sensibilities. On one or two occasions he had had to be held back from reacting to someone callous or selfish to stop him bopping them one. On the other hand, he was the team leader, and was aware of his own failings and more determined than anyone else to control it. The resultant inner conflict was often visible.

John had at one time looked forward to having every other month off, so he and John had taken turns at manning Thunderbird Five, and John had revelled in the freedom on his time off. Then John had pleaded with Brains to find him some way of getting himself home without outside assistance so that he could run the space station independently. So Brains had come up with the space elevator. Since that had been installed, John had declared an end the times of being relieved every other month, and he now manned the station himself permanently, coming home for a few hours whenever he needed a break. The fact that he now had the ability to control some of the space stations functions from Tracy Island made it even easier for him to become a workaholic. Alan was not sure dad would have approved of John's slightly obsessive attitude, but there was no denying that both Scott and John did a bang up job.

Virgil was the only one that on the surface at least did not seem to have changed any recently. He was skilled and precise, and devoted to saving lives. He cared about that more than anything else. He was also intelligent and quick thinking, and liked to take a personal hand in the upkeep of his ship, Thunderbird Two, rather than leaving it all to Brains. He had started doing weight training in his scant free time, and as a result had become heavier and thicker set than before with strong muscles and bulging biceps. And he was certainly strong. Of that Alan could certainly confirm. Virgil probably had the best of everything in Alan's opinion. He had two older brothers to learn from, either the bad or the good, and two younger brothers to take the heat off him if need be. Alan had vague memories of he, Gordon and Virgil as young children being involved in some kind of scrum, and Virgil being Virgil had taken himself sweetly out of the way until the two mischievous tots had taken the blame and the punishment. These days Virgil was very much the voice of reason when the brothers disagreed. Overall, Virgil was definitely a good guy, Alan decided.

What then of Gordon? Gordon's once reckless attitude to his job had earned him honours certainly, but it had also earned him three months in hospital, just a short time before International Rescue had started operating. In fact, he was lucky to be still in one piece at all. For a day and a half, he had been in a coma, and it had not been at all certain that he would ever walk again. Nowadays, Gordon had learned a very healthy respect for the sea, and he was the organisation's notable expert on all things nautical. The only thing that had changed about Gordon was that he was a lot more outgoing than he used to be.

For some reason dad had kept him at home as a backup a lot of the time, so he had never seen a great deal of action. Alan himself had seen more action, being a month on duty in the space station and then splitting his time on Tracy Island between his studies and joining his brothers on rescues when dad had calculated there would be little chance of Thunderbird Three being needed. Gordon had been rather left out. He had never betrayed any negative thoughts or feelings about it, but he had been a rather quiet, introverted and thoughtful individual then.

Now dad was…not here, John seldom went on rescues. He spent his time as the dispatcher and coordinator on the space station, and he and Scott were much stricter with Alan about his studies than even dad had been. So Gordon now saw a great deal of the action. Gordon was usually the first choice of the brothers when an extra pair of hands was needed in Thunderbird Two, their reasoning being that Alan might be needed in Thunderbird Three and so would need to remain as back-up, which was often the case, and that in any case he had schoolwork to do that must not at any cost be neglected.

Gordon's self-confidence had skyrocketed, and he had blossomed into a lively guy, full of fun and jokes….and although often they fell flat, he never seemed to be put off. Alan also suspected that Gordon was secretly carrying a torch for Lady Penelope, although he would never admit that to anyone, probably never even to her.

So how had he changed himself? Alan was aware that nowadays he was kept at home a lot more than before. Scott was determined that he would not miss out on his schooling, and if anything John was even more firm about it. Between them they became an invincible wall that no amount of pleading or reasoning would ever break through. Alan's education had become their responsibility, and they were determined to do the thing properly. In Alan's own opinion, they were grossly overdoing it, but he understood the reason why, and he couldn't resent them for it. It was simply proof of how much they cared. About him and about dad's legacy. He would have his time, he knew that, and in the meantime he was interested in his studies, and he had on occasion found himself able to use his newfound knowledge to help his brothers in completing their assignments.

Alan decided that all five of them in their own ways were expressing their own helplessness by seizing control of something that they could control. Scott's helplessness over dad was shown in his occasional difficulty in controlling his frustration, so he exercised greater control over his youngest brother, who was still under age and therefore under his personal official supervision…with grandma's help of course. John was never happy feeling helpless. Who was after all? So he was as firm as Scott at keeping Alan in line, he noted ruefully, and yet he had seized control of Thunderbird Five in a very direct way, almost making it his own personal property. Alan had no real way of taking control of anything in his world of schooling. He was in command of any space rescues, but that was not difficult, as his usual companion was Kayo, who although a very skilled pilot, was no astronaut.

Alan wondered what would happen if somehow he were to go on a space rescue accompanied by John. Would John accept Alan being in command? Would he take command himself, being older and a more experienced astronaut? Would he sit as an equal? Why was he even thinking about it? Did he really have so little faith in his brother's personal integrity that he would really doubt him like this? John still saw Alan as a young boy, who really was too young for the responsibility he had, but being together in Thunderbird Five, in some kind of Jam together, he knew that John would act like the professional that he was. He would bow to Alan's greater familiarity with Thunderbird Three's systems. Alan had become less trustful of people; he had become a brilliant pilot. He could say that without boasting. They all acknowledged Alan's skill. It was one of the reasons he had kept his job as the official IR astronaut despite his youth. His skill as a pilot coupled with his quick thinking ability had somehow increased recently.

He had become sharper since dad's demise, he recognised. More grown up in his attitude, despite the fact that he still loved computer games and rock climbing and sunbathing, he was able to switch at the drop of a hat and be totally focussed on what he was doing. But he still couldn't manage to sleep the whole night through in the bed. Wherever he started the night, he always woke up in the morning lying on his bedroom rug.

Alan thought about that again. Why the rug? Was it more comfortable than the bed? Was it warmer? Was it softer? He thought back.

When he was little, his bed had always seemed to be a bone of contention between himself and his father. He was placed in a cot every night, and as soon as he was old enough he would climb out of the cot, and climb up onto the bed to be near mom. Mother had put up with it of course, but after her death, dad had insisted that Alan stay in his cot at night. And on one occasion had even wrapped him up in his blankets tightly so that the toddler couldn't move. But always somehow Alan would find a way to wriggle out and climb on to dad's bed.

Next, dad had given him a proper bed all of his own. Alan loved his bed. It was warm and comfortable and made a wonderful trampoline. But he still got out of it every night and tried to climb into dad's bed. Dad then placed Alan's bed in his own room, and locked the door so that Alan couldn't escape. Alan now recalled banging on his door trying to get out of his room, and his father sternly ordering him to get back into bed. Alan had done so but only for as long as it took his father to walk away, then he was up again.

Alan stood up, stretched and sat down on the edge of his bed. He had had a history for much of his growing up of getting out of bed and climbing in with one of his brothers. Many times Jeff Tracy had found his youngest son on the balcony in the morning, curled up as though he had fallen asleep watching the sunset. So many times Alan had been told off by his father for leaving his bed at night. Of course, he had grown out of the habit a long time ago. So why had it started again recently? He had not left his bed at night since he was about nine years old. Why now?

Looking out of the window, at the amazing view across the island, and the ocean beyond, Alan knew. Suddenly, he knew very well why he always awakened these days laying on his bedroom rug. He was waiting for dad to come back and order him back to bed. Once dad came home, if he ever did, he would check on his sons through the night as always, find Alan on the floor and order him to get up and back into bed where he belonged. Alan was, without realizing it, simply waiting for his father to return.

He had asked each of his brothers at one time or another whether they believed dad would ever come back. They all expressed a desperate hope, but none of them really believed it. Perhaps Alan was destined to spend the rest of his life, sleeping most of his nights on the floor of his room? If so, so be it. Alan was taking command of one tiny thing in his life. The thing that as a child he had always been in trouble for…in the hope that sooner or later, dad would come home and order him back into bed.