beyondtheline | Tornadoes and skeletons and nacho dogs, oh my

My parents were really little when the war ended. They told me about what my grandparents were like when it happened. So I can imagine.

[Sometimes the fact he was born a long time before she was hits her hard. This is one of those moments. It isn't anything bad, but it does make her thoughtful as she gets on the bike and he wraps his arms around her. All those thoughts flood right out of her head as he kisses her though, and she enjoys the music drawing to a close as he's in close.

She can imagine what it was like back then, so happy to see her soldier come home from the war. Johnnie would be so eager to see her, and she would've pushed through the crowd to tackle him down with a hug and a kiss. And oh, they would've danced the entire night away. They can do that now, of course. But she can imagine what it would've been like back in the 40s. And that makes her smile as she breaks away, giving him a gentle nudge.]

You know, this may be the year you were born. Wouldn't it be weird to be able to call up your parents when you were a baby and tell them they better be ready for trouble?

[She laughs, before caressing his cheek and giving him one more kiss. He gets another little nudge, this one meant to shoo him off the bike so she can take his place driving.]

Yeah, that'd be pretty fucked up. Like they don't already have trouble with the other two. Hell, I could warn them about all three of us.

[He laughs and scoots away to go investigate the debris ahead of them, then starts working on clearing a path for her just as she had been doing. Man, something must have twisted wrong when he landed and he's just now feeling it while lifting this chunk of fence and dragging it out of the way, it makes his shoulder twinge in sharp protest. But other than a grimace, what's he going to do about it? They need to get out of here somehow.

There's something kind of relaxing about doing hard manual work while listening to oldies. It triggers some weird sense of nostalgia, which isn't something he usually feels.]

Well at least if there's ever another war, I won't have to worry about it much. They can't draft dead people!

There's always other wars. You know about Vietnam, right?

[He has to. She's not very great at history, but she's pretty sure that would be from his time. Unless it doesn't happen in his version of Earth, which is a possibility.]

And then there's the cold war, but that's not exactly the same. I guess everyone says it was over last year, but it still feels like the entire world is constantly fighting.

[Which is stupid, but that's just how the world is. Always violent and clashing. But she's not looking for a heavy conversation, so she just shrugs and focuses on driving. She's confident enough on the bike that she's not wobbly or shaky at all this time, which makes her smile a little.]

But hey, I know this one!

[She turns up the radio as Perry Como's Prisoner of Love plays. Her parents listened to this enough that she knows the words, and sings along as she stays focused on driving and keeping the bike upright. They really do make a great team.]

'Course I know about Vietnam.

[It just feels far away, like part of a different lifetime. Anyway, fighting the Nazis is one thing. Fighting Vietnamese people is fucked up and stupid. She must know how it ended, then, but only in her world, and who's to say it ended the same way in his? Also, he just doesn't care. One more fucked up injustice by the pigs at the top of the pile, flinging shit down on everyone else. Hard to focus much on that when wrapped up in all the stuff going on in his part of the state.

Speaking of wars, and phone calls, man. They'd really better hit '67 so he can call Alex.

He grunts as he shoves a bunch of shattered wood to the side for her, then taps his fingers on his leg to the beat coming from the radio. Somewhere ahead, the road looks less like a warzone. They'll get out of this.]

What's the cold war about?

It's not a war like you're thinking. I guess it was more like...everyone was afraid Russia was going to use nuclear weapons on us in America. And I think they were afraid of the same thing there. Growing up, we always had to do these drills where they'd make us duck under our desk. Like that would really save us if there was ever a bomb dropped.

[Her laugh is empty and almost bitter. Now that she understands more about the world, she sees how fucked up the situation is. How people in power ruin everyone else's lives, just so they can stay in control.

Things likely don't ever get any better, but at least she can say she's finally on the right side of things. That thought makes her more content, especially as she sees the road starting to clear up ahead. Not much further, and then they'll be able to just drive.]

But even a standoff can feel like a war, I guess. It still doesn't make any sense to me.

[It's better not to think about it, so she brings the bike to a stop and uses her foot to get the kickstand in place. He's got one last cluster of debris to clear, then she can drive for a little while.]

Huh. I wonder if in some version of things, that did happen. The bombs, I mean.

[Given apparently there are all kinds of possibilities for how the future goes, there must be some alternate world where things got to that point. What then? Talk about an end of the world scenario. Maybe that kind of thing is what makes those forces of chaos and entropy happiest, if "happy" is even a word that can be applied to a being like the one he's aware of.]

Sounds like it'd be one hell of a light show, though, if that's the last thing you get to see.

[Better than what he got, but he can't change that, so oh well.

He's sweating and exhausted as he moves a large panel of plywood over the top of a bunch of shattered windows. It's the last of the roughest stuff, though, finally, and he hangs there a moment to catch his breath, then gestures forward.]

Think we're good for a while now as long as the road isn't trashed ahead. Here, I'll stand on this so it doesn't move when you hit it with the bike. See if you can just get enough speed to get over that bump an' then I'll come join you.

[Oh, look at her. She's a daredevil, a stuntwoman! Crossing over a pile of debris. She revs the engine before hitting the gas, and winds up going a little too fast. So yeah, she gets over the bump. And winds up having to apply the brakes with a squeal of the tires. That all makes her red in the face as she laugh, and she gives him an apologetic look as he eventually approaches.]

Sorry! I'm still getting the hang of this!

[But she doubts he's actually mad, so she leans in to kiss him before once again putting down the kickstand and scooting back so he can hop on and drive.]

Next stop! San...Angelo?

[Okay, she forgot the name of the city they're headed toward, but she's excited to get there, all the same. Next big city means motel and a comfy bed and a shower. Maybe even something to eat, too.]

[He laughs tiredly but still with plenty of approval and gives her a round of applause, then makes his way over to jump up onto the bike.]

You did great, babe. Thanks for all the help.

[He twists and leans back for a kiss and gives her thigh a squeeze.]

San Antonio, you mean. Or Austin, I think we hit that next, but I wanna get some distance as long as we got highways so I think we'll just go right through. San Antonio's only a little farther than that.

[And if they get stuck in the 1800s again, well, he'll figure it out. But pavement under the bike means it's time to get back up to speed. He pulls his goggles back on just in case they hit more storm, and gets them flying down the road to some radio DJ's chatter about the same stormy night they're a part of. Tornadoes in not just Nacogdoches but other nearby cities, people missing, likely dead. All the while, he has music in his head, not from the forties but from his own time. Just another weird night on the road to home.

An hour or so of good road puts him in a better mood. He's had plenty of time to rest up now and feel all the weird bruises and sprains resulting from being flung from a tornado, but since it's all stuff sustained from riding a tornado he'll wear it with pride. A sign passed along the way makes him laugh and point.]

Wait, Davy Crockett National Forest? Really? Was that dude real?

[She's enjoying driving the motorcycle more and more, every time she gets to do it. But there's still nothing better than being behind him, holding on tight and pressing in close as he drives. The companionable silence stretches out between them, and she enjoys listening to the radio and the road noise as they drive.

When he laughs and points, her head turns to try and catch what the sign says. She misses it, but he fills her in.]

I guess so. I remember there used to be a song about him. And a movie my dad would watch all the time. I always just thought he was a character. But I guess he's real in Texas.

[Here, everything feels like a world of its own. It's hard to believe one state is so big and open.]

I'd say we should go check it out, but we haven't been on the road long enough for a break yet.

[That, and it's just a park. They both know exactly what they'd get up to out in a park, where there's plenty of trees to press up against.]

It would be really neat to buy a hat like he wears though.

You'll come outta all this travel with so many new clothes you'll never wear again, but you could be a one person theater if you wanted.

[Seriously, a raccoon hat? Costumey for sure, but funny. Hard to see that trend taking off in LA.]

I guess eventually we oughta stop an' see about food, actually. It'll be a while until we get to a real city that's likely to have anything open late. You think any of those jars survived?

[Now probably isn't the best time to dig around in bags either, not while they're going this speed, but he's hungry. He's just not hungry enough to risk eating jerky full of glass shards.]

Pull over and we can check.

[She points over to the side of the road. There really isn't much in the way of light, but it's quiet and she's able to actually open the bags to look through them as they come to a stop. The inside of the bags are pretty messed up, but only one of the jars is broken.]

It looks like the jar of dried fruit is broken. And I think one of the bottles of alcohol broke too. But the jerky is okay. That's pulled out, and she takes a couple of pieces for herself before handing the jar over to him.]

It's not really a lot, but we can probably make it another hour or two if we eat all of it. Maybe we can make it to San Antonio by then. But babe, we look so bad right now. We can't go in anywhere and eat.

[She has to laugh, because they are such a mess that she's pretty sure anyone that can see them would be worried about them.]

[He pulls over and lets her sort through things, and gladly takes some of that jerky to chew on. He's still working on that when he laughs in realization at her comment.]

Oh, shit, yeah I kinda forgot already. Too tired to think about that. Demons who went through fire and a tornado, it's not a great look, is it?

[He cackles a little at imagined expressions by people seeing them, though, then swallows a mouthful of jerky.]

So we break into a grocery store an' grab food, then break into a motel an' clean up, how's that sound? Just get us some bread, peanut butter an' jelly, or crackers and cheese? That's a meal.

That sounds really good. And you know what else I want?

[Oh gosh, there's so much she wants. But she tries to limit herself here.]

Dry, sugary cereal. And those little juice boxes that aren't actually juice at all.

[Everything sounds amazing when you're hungry, but something about stealing a box of Fruit Loops and some Hi-C sounds like the best thing in the entire world. Especially if it's accompanied by cheese and crackers or a good PB&J.]

I think we'll need to break into a clothes store at some point soon too. I need some new things.

I want pop tarts. Fuckin' sad they're hard to find until you get late enough in time.

[His favorite discovery on this whole trip, aside from her. He laughs, grinning as he gladly dreams about sugar right along with her.]

I wouldn't mind getting more clothes either, some of my stuff is pretty wrecked. If you could pick clothes from any decade, what would you go for?

[As long as they're daydreaming, might as well. And hey, if they happen across a town when the radio says they're in the time she wants, he can sure pull over again.]

Honestly? I miss my clothes from the 80s sometimes. But I really liked what I picked out when we were in New York in the 90s too!

[She can find something she likes in just about any time, for the most part. Her favorite outfit is one they grabbed in the 50s, and she doesn't plan of letting go of that candy stripe ensemble any time soon. But new, clean things would be great.]

I need to get used to shopping in 1967. They have malls in LA, right?

[More than anything she enjoyed back home, she misses the mall. It was one of her favorite places, which is probably stereotypical. But who cares, she likes going and that's all that matters.]

[The question makes him laugh as he starts in on another piece of jerky.]

Yeah, babe, we got malls in '67. LA is huge, you'll find whatever you want, don't worry. Malls, little smaller shops, tailors if you want any of it made to suit you real nice. An' if you get bored of American fashions, there's always the stuff imported from Italy, Mexico, India, China, wherever. Somethin' for everyone.

[Of course, you probably have to know someone to find some of those, tucked away in little neighborhoods and special ordered for someone's auntie's home business. But it's all there. Just one more reason he loves his city. It's like all of America in one place, and plenty more you can't find anywhere else, either.]

Except I shouldn'ta told you that 'cause now you're gonna fill my whole closet up, aren't you?

[That question makes her laugh, and she leans forward to drape over him, so they're pressed cheek to cheek. Which feels funny as he's chewing and eating, and it only makes her laugh more.]

I'll try to be good and only take up half of the closet. But there's no promises, you've really made me like shopping for myself!

[It's all his fault, he's given her the ability to pick out her own things and wear whatever she wants. It's still a new novelty to her, since she always had her mother buying things and telling her it's what she has to wear. But she's found things she likes, and then one or two outfits she really likes. Maybe she'll go a little crazy buying all kinds of new things (or stealing them, really) but she doubts she'll fill his whole closet up.

Probably.

He gets a big wet, smacking kiss to his cheek before she leans back and finishes her piece of jerky. It's not a very big snack and won't tide her over forever, but it's nice for now.]

Didn't make you do anything, baby girl, you did that all on your own.

[He chuckles and leans against her in that hold while it lasts. And yes, he knows what she means, and he's glad to have enabled her discovery of things like fun and freedom, that's what he's all about! But he also believes that it's been in her all the time, just being stifled by some real assholes.

Once finished with the jerky, he gives her a one-armed squeeze and a kiss to the temple, then hops back on the bike and tugs his goggles down over his eyes.]

All right, let's see how long this highway holds out. Any bets for what time we show up next time we hit a town?

Let's aim for 67.

[Like they have any control over it and can choose what year to go to.]

We really need to call your brother, remember?

[Oh, his goggles are all tangled on the back of his head. She takes a few seconds to pull the strap back and straighten them out, and kisses the back of his neck once they're in place.]

We're not very far from home at this point. He needs to know you're coming back!

You think I'd forget? Heh. Just keepin' my fingers crossed.

[There's nothing to do but drive and see if they make it to his year. He's not betting on it, what's one year out of centuries? He tries not to hope too hard either, just because the odds seem pretty poor. But, fuck, it would be real nice to get lucky.

He waits as she fiddles with the goggles strap, then fires up the engine. Time to drive.

This part of Texas is really barren in almost all times, it seems like. Aside from a handful of tiny towns in various states of near-nonexistence, it's hours before they get anywhere that looks like civilization, but soon they start seeing highway signs for Austin, and then after that, the blinking lights of the city outskirts.]

How you doin' back there? I think we still have another two hours to San Antonio from here if the roads stay good.

I think I can hang on for another couple of hours. Let's keep going, okay?

[With as much driving as they do on a regular basis, two hours is really nothing. The landscape in this part of the state is pretty boring, and there isn't a lot to look at. So he keeps driving, and she lets herself doze off against him for a much needed nap.

She comes to as they're coming to a stop at a streetlight. Her head lifts and she blearily looks around. It's really hard to tell what year they might be in, but it at least looks like something that's modern like they're used to.]

Did the roads stay good?

[It looks like a bigger city. One with traffic and people and lots of buildings. They have to be in San Antonio by now, right?]

Mostly. Think you woulda woken up if they were all fucked up. You didn't miss much.

[And actually, it was sort of a nice drive. One big modern freeway, not much traffic, just listening to the radio dip in and out between cities and times.

There's a grin on his face she can't see, and he doesn't say anything, just turns the volume up a couple ticks on the dial. He's found some little rock and roll station that claims to be playing the hottest new releases from "bands you've probably never heard of," some kind of hipster shit, and that's honestly fun enough, but as she wakes up, the station is currently about thirty seconds into Not Dead Yet.

Why that one took off and the rest of theirs haven't just yet, he's not sure. One of those weird quirks of working in a creative field. But hell, he can't complain. They're on the air in San Antonio? Guess he has at least one fan all the way out in Texas.]

[It takes her a few seconds, but after he speaks something clicks. It's with a gasp that she scrambles to lean forward around him to try and turn up the radio.]

It's your song! Oh my gosh, it's your song, isn't it? You've sang this to me before! You're on the radio!

[She's ecstatic to hear it, and is really proud of him. It's the first she's heard the band altogether, and it makes her excited to get to LA to see them live.

With the radio turned up nice and loud, she sings along and dances in place on the bike. She's just going to take this song playing as a sign that San Antonio is going to be amazing. ]

Wait. Does this mean you're famous?

[The question makes him laugh, a little giddy.]

Maybe we're finally gettin' there, yeah! If they're playin' our stuff as far out as Texas, then that totally counts as famous.

[To someone. Famous beyond a small studio and a few bars. Famous enough that they could probably book a gig all the way out here and a few in between, a real goddamn bonafide tour.

Except Rigo is probably still missing. Damn idiot better not have gotten himself killed, or if he did he'd better still be around to mash those drums because it's not like Johnnie is giving up on backing guitar.]

An' I think that means this might even be 1967. We just got this record out, what, six months ago? Hey, shit, we gotta get you to a record store!

[Could luck finally be on their side? Did they really make it to 1967 and a big city? Chrissy's giddy with laughter, hugging him and peppering him with kisses wherever she can reach. Her boyfriend is famous, and they're going to go into a record store and buy his record and people will know who he is.

She's the girlfriend of an amazing musician and San Antonio is going to be the best time they've had on this trip. She can feel it in her bones.]

Yeah! It's time we finally found one. But let's save it until after we're clean, okay? You may be a Phantom Rider, but you don't have to actually look like a phantom.

[She's only teasing, obviously, and it's easy to tell by the way she pinches at his filthy cheek.]

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