beyondtheline | Tornadoes and skeletons and nacho dogs, oh my

I think I saw it over this way.

[She had briefly caught a glance as she was looking for him. There's nothing wrong with being his crutch for now, and she stays at his side and lets him hold onto her as needed. She's got some pretty strong leg muscles, she can support his weight.

When she catches sight of what looks like the motorcycle, she makes sure he'll be okay on his own two feet before running up ahead.]

It's over here! And it looks like it's in one piece!

[Like she had in Wilmington, she tries picking it up on her own. She really needs to work on her upper body strength, because it's a real struggle. But unlike before, she's able to get it up after a few tries. Once the wheels are on the ground, she makes sure the kickstand is down before leaning against the seat to catch her breath. Gosh, she wants a fluffy bed to fall into right about now.]

As long as it runs, we can try to do any repairs in the next town we get to.

Yeah, hope it's a big enough city to have bike parts. Poor thing's taken a beating on this trip.

[The rest of their stuff has too. Boy is he ever glad he has a sturdy case for his guitar, but the liquor in their bags is probably all broken and spilled all over again. He can't bring himself to investigate right now, though. He looks over the bike itself, decides that aside from some dents and scratches nothing seems obviously broken, then carefully swings a leg over and sits. The engine starts, so, as long as it keeps them going down the road, he'll make do with any other discoveries as they come.

Around them, people are continuing to emerge and assess the damage to their town, but the two of them are mostly ignored. Everyone has problems to tend to. For him and Chrissy, the biggest problem now is going to be the road.]

Think we wanna aim for Austin, or San Antonio. That way.

[That way, like every way, is completely full of debris.]

Gonna take us a while to get outta here. But hey, we can switch off, one clears shit outta the way on foot, one drives to keep up, until we make it outta the path of the tornado. Which job d'you want first?

[It's really hard to keep in the tiny sound of disappointment. She's so tired, but knows that he can't do this on his own. She's got to woman up and be strong, and pull her weight.]

I'll clear the debris first.

[She wants to watch how he drives in these conditions, see how he applies the brakes and gas so she can try to copy it when it's her turn. Besides, she'll need to do the heavy lifting while she's still got some adrenaline left and some strength in her. She's going to quickly reach a point where she's too tired to be much use other than driving, so it's smart to get the lifting portion of things out of the way now.

As he slowly moves up ahead, she hops off the back of the bike to jog ahead and clear the road as best as she can. Some stuff is really heavy, but she's able to get it moved enough that he can slowly swerve around.

Rather than hopping right on the bike, she has to walk for what feels like miles, clearing things so they can keep progressing forward. It would be easy to sulk about having to do so much work, but instead she tries to make conversation. ]

What year do you think the tornado dropped us in? It's hard to tell looking at the people we've seen.

[Driving first gives him time to clear his head from that crazy ride, anyway. Focusing on the path ahead, tricky though it may be, is a fun kind of challenge. Maybe a little frustrating on account of how slow it is, but nothing terrible. She must be wearing herself out, though, seeing all that stuff she has to move. Whenever she's ready to switch he'll gladly let her just so she can have a break.]

Uh, good question.

[The radio is probably the easiest way to find out, so he switches that on and lets it run while he navigates around a section of road that's been pretty broken up by rubble hitting hard. By the time a few songs have gone by, it's pretty easy to narrow down the date. Harry James, Frank Sinatra, and Dinah Shore? The fourth comes on and he finds himself singing along to It's Been a Long, Long Time - never a favorite, exactly, but one of those things he remembers well enough from when he was little.]

Mid-forties. Maybe 45, 46? Around there, anyway. You can tell rock hasn't hit mainstream yet. You know this one?

[Easier to judge the date by ear than try and look around while the town is in such a wreck, but the cars look more or less right, too.]

[She pauses in the middle of dragging a piece of sheet metal across the road, just so she can give him a lopsided grin. It's really amazing to her how he can pinpoint the year just from music alone.]

That's a gift you have, baby.

[She laughs, and finishes dragging the metal to shove away before she makes her way back to the bike. There, she can hear the song that's playing. It's not something she recognizes, but she's still able to pick up the tune and hum along as she walks at the side of the motorcycle.]

I don't think I've ever heard this one, but I think the earliest music I hear on the radio is probably from the 50's. It's really neat sounding though! It would be perfect to dance to, actually.

[A hand is held up then, signaling for him to wait. She moves on ahead and clears the debris before shuffling back to climb on the bike. She just needs a minute to rest before they switch.]

[He grins and brushes her compliment off with a shrug. Sure, a gift, otherwise known as a life full of music. And it happens to be a decade he's familiar with just on account of what his parents were listening to when he was young.]

Yeah, it's one a' those my parents an' their generation all woulda been dancing to as the war ended an' all the guys came back home. Man, can you imagine?

[So many of them didn't come home. And while he's not exactly a huge fan of governments sending people off to die, fuck the Nazis. That war had to be actually worth fighting.

She comes back to the bike and he drops the kickstand and hops off, but she needs a breather so he stays close and loops his arms around her, giving her a kiss as the song plays out its last bars.]

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!

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