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Apr. 19th, 2025 at 7:28 PM
[A few hours of open road makes for easygoing fun. It's great to be traveling again, and the feeling of Chrissy leaning up against his back, holding on tight while he whips ahead on a wide-open freeway through the pitch black of night is like nothing else. The last time they were racing up and down this freeway, they were on the way to go burn a bunch of people's lives down - but now that's hours back, back with the rest of the city. They've left the lights and have nothing to look at but the pavement in Johnnie's headlight, the glimpses of stars shining weakly through hazy clouds, and occasionally an oncoming car.
Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.
But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]
Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.
[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]
Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.
But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]
Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.
[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]
Comments
Oh, I used to go to their shows all the time back when I lived in LA. I was probably about sixteen or seventeen back then. I know I don't look it, but -
[He pauses for dramatic impact, hand pressed against his chest like it might fall out with the weight of all these memories of his youth. It makes Chrissy laugh, and she ditches everything but her skip it in favor of going over to join Johnnie near the counter.]
That was about fifty years ago. I keep some of their records in stock.
[A hand is held up, and he vanishes off to a back room. He comes out a minute later with a wooden crate of records. The Phantom Riders aren't the only band represented in there, but there's plenty of albums, including a couple Chrissy's never seen before. The guy working pushes the crate toward Johnnie to let him flip through it, and eyes him a little more closely.]
Y'know, you look a little like one of them. Who knows, you could be related to him somehow. Guys like that probably have kids at every town they played in.
[He responds before he thinks it through, then laughs, and the man laughs along with him as if it makes sense. It's fine. It's clearly funny to both of them somehow.
But damn, there are records here. Ones he knows they haven't recorded, though he recognizes some of the song titles as things they've played recently with the intent of taking them on the upcoming tour, and others as songs Dale is working on or had discarded and evidently revived later. But there's at least one whole album from the late 70s that is so completely new to him that he just holds it for a moment in surprise and takes in every detail of the cover and tracklist.]
I never heard this one. You mind if we put it on? Just for now? I'd buy it but I don't got a record player.
[Not here, anyway.
The guy reaches for it with a grin, though, and takes it to a turntable in the corner.]
Good thing for you I have one in stock. Just give me a moment, I'll get it playing.
[Unbelievable. Johnnie grins, feeling the strangest mix of giddy anticipation and some kind of nervousness. Is there a world where he didn't die, where they played as a band in a normal way, all four of them? Or does he always die and come back, carried by the love of the music?
He browses the shop absently through the first track, acting like he's looking at items while being fully absorbed in the music instead. It's so strange - the sound is uncanny, in that it sounds like them but doesn't sound like the them he knows at all. Louder, more experimental, using new instruments and sounds. Dale's voice sounds rougher, but no less energetic.
It's weirdly emotional. He might need a minute.]
There's a lot of things she could say, but for once she feels that maybe the best things don't need to be said. He can feel that she's there for him, and hopefully he can sense how happy and proud she is to be getting to hear this alongside him. If they had room to get the album home, she'd buy it. But that would probably be against some time travel rule they don't know about. This is different than burning down an entire town. It's bringing some's future back to their past, and forcing it into their present.]
The Phantom Riders are still around, even this far in the future.
[Maybe not actively playing music in this year, but their albums still are getting played and they still have fans. That's basically getting to live forever in some ways.
Her head turns so she can kiss at his ear after whispering that to him, and she gives him a squeeze before pulling away and letting him have some space to process that. Not much makes him emotional, but she can see how this probably would.]
But. But. He still can't take it as any kind of assurance. The future isn't set in stone, surely. Here they're finding one version of things, a world that could happen. He could go home and everything could change the very next day.
Still.]
Pretty fuckin' good, huh? Man. Who woulda thought.
[He's mostly just talking to himself, and maybe to Chrissy too, but the shop manager speaks up as he rests his elbows on the countertop by his phone.]
Yeah, this one's pretty good. I like the one before this best, I think, but this one's really got some good tunes. Those guys always got us dancing out there.
[Goddamn though it is fucking weird to have some old dude reminiscing about the band as the rock music of his childhood. So fucking strange. Johnnie shakes off whatever that feeling is and carries on, handing that ukulele back to Chrissy.]
You should get that little thing, that'll be easy to carry around. Real easy to learn, too. I could teach ya some of these tunes on it.
[Consider that little thing sold. It's not expensive, and it looks like fun to learn. Just playing around a little strumming the strings right now makes her grin. She can play some Phantom Riders light, Hawaiian style. It'll be fun for everybody.]
Okay, we'll get it. It would be fun for you to teach me!
[The guy behind the counter smiles as he watches them, more charmed that two young people are so into old music from his youth than anything. These two were raised right, good kids.]
Tell you what. I think I've got a little case and a book to teach you how to play some stuff. I'll throw those in no additional charge.
[Chrissy grins and nods, and goes to put the ukulele beside her skip it. That camp stove and little pot were left somewhere, so she goes off in search of those next.]
Do you want to get that little stove, Johnnie? It's not very big and I think we would probably use it a lot. [Aha. There it is. She pauses to pick up both items and head back to the counter.] Did you find anything you wanted though?
[She's curious if he's going to grab those Phantom Riders albums to bring back home.]
Nah. Well, maybe. Definitely get the stove. How much does that leave us with?
[The shopkeeper totals up the ukulele and the camping stove and pot.]
You still have thirty in credit.
[Shit, okay. Johnnie is having a hard time deciding - he doesn't really want to carry around a bunch of shit. He's just not the shopping type. The cash is more valuable to him - that and snacks, which this place won't have. He sifts through the stack of vinyls one more time, but he can't figure out a good way to bring any of them home, they're big enough they won't fit easily and there's risk of damage and anyway he's not taking the Phantom Riders ones back because he can't. He just can't fuck with fate like that, it feels wrong.]
I dunno. Wish I had a way to play shit on my bike.
[The guy drums his fingers on the counter, then nods toward the electronics display with its phones and its little music devices.]
I have a couple bluetooth speakers there. You just pair them with your phone, they work great. Then you have music on your bike, or anywhere you go.
[Johnnie shrugs, shaking his head with an awkward chuckle.]
Nah, I don't got a phone neither.
[The man raises an eyebrow. Johnnie feels like he's being assessed, but that's fair.]
Old school cool, huh? Well, you could do a speaker and one of these little old ipods. They don't sell well anymore, I'm kinda looking to get rid of them. Load one of those up with music and hook it up to the speaker and you don't need a phone. Though without a phone, I guess you'd still need a computer to load the music on. You've got one of those at home, right?
[She sounds shocked and confused that he'd be asking that. How in the world can anyone that isn't rich have one of those at home? If they're in a pawn shop getting money and scrounging up things to buy on store credit, they clearly aren't rich. She laughs a little and shakes her head.]
No, we don't really have much at home. Is that how you work that pink camera back there, though? You need a computer?
[He raises an eyebrow at that question. What kind of kids know the Phantom Riders but are clueless about technology? Chrissy tries to cover up how out of touch they are by moving the conversation right along.]
I do have a walkman though! And a lot of those old tapes? Is there a speaker we can plug that into?
[That he seems to be able to work with, and he holds up a hand as he comes out from behind the counter and goes over to the aisle where speakers are.]
Yeah, I got something that'll work for that. Just got to find it.
No, he swears he's not going to use this to influence Dale or the band, but man, it's cool to get a look at what the future might hold for them. Might. He's not going to assume any of this is guaranteed - and he keeps reminding himself of that, of how important it is to know that nothing is set in stone. One world's future might be nothing to do with his own.
The shopkeeper comes back with a little portable speaker with an aux cord and sets it down on the counter, quickly goes to lift the needle from the record, and then grabs one of the older iPods from the case next to the register.]
Here, you plug this speaker into your walkman just like I'm doing with this thing. Have a listen.
[He spins through the list of tracks and then picks one of his more modern favorites and hits play.
The speaker doesn't exactly have the best sound quality compared to that vinyl that had been playing but hell, Johnnie is still impressed that so much sound can come out of a small thing.]
Hey, that's great! Damn, babe, we gotta pick up more of your tapes, then we can play music anywhere! That thing runs on battery I guess?
[She likes getting to hear how the speaker works, and dances a little in place. Now that it's not as emotional for him, she feels a like it's okay to give him a hip bump and get him to do a little dance with her. It's playful and silly, there's no reason to get moving for real.]
Did you find anything you wanted?
[It feels like they're close to wrapping things up here. She found some things and there's about $30 left to spend. Maybe if they can't find a way to spend it all she can talk him into giving them that little bit extra in cash. He seems to like them, so she thinks she might have a shot.]
Me? I dunno. Kinda eyeing those knives but if that speaker's the rest of the thirty then I don't really need nothin' here.
[And with the total of camping gear, ukulele, and speaker - yeah, that amounts to a hundred, the guy tells them. The knives are nice but just not worth it - there will always be another pawn shop anyway, they have more they need to turn over. They got lucky here but they'll need to be smarter for the next one.
Anyway, Johnnie is ready to move on. Poking his nose into pawn shop corners is the least interesting thing he's intending on doing in this city. The Phantom Riders record was a shock, but it's time to get going.
They get a receipt printed up that lists out their store credit purchases, and Johnnie scoops up the camping stuff and nudges the door open.]
You got the rest of it, babe?
[She gets everything piled up in her arms and offers the guy working a grin before saying goodbye and trotting out after Johnnie. They were in there for a while, she's surprised they managed to make it that long. But she's got some goodies and they've got a way to get music on the road, so it was worth it.]
Next shop, we'll just be in and out.
[It feels like maybe she should promise that, since she knows sometimes she can enjoy indulging in shopping a little too much. He's a guy, he doesn't like stuff like that. But he doesn't mind treating her to things she enjoys and she loves that about him.
They work together to get everything put away, and in no time at all they're back on the road. It's not the right time to get the speaker tied down on the bike and get music playing, that can happen when they're on the road for real. But it only takes about ten minutes to find the next place, and Chrissy finds a few more things to pawn before they hop off the bike.]
We may not get as lucky at this place. What do we do if they ask for ID?
[No point wasting time getting their faces known by getting kicked out. They got really lucky at the last spot but he learned from it. The key is to hang out here a moment and see who walks by who might be an easy target.
Not the older short-haired woman who looks like an outdoorsy type, she's too smart. Not the couple walking past with a stroller, though they might be able to use the cash, but he's not taking his chances with two of them. No, he spots the slightly clueless-looking guy not much older than the two of them, minding his own business as he looks at his phone and walks down the street.
Johnnie runs up to walk alongside him, hands in his pockets.]
Hey! Hey man. I could use a hand here. I gotta turn over some a' my grandpa's watches but I lost my ID, new one's still gettin' processed. Think you could go in there an' sell some stuff for us? We'll give you a cut. I'm just hard up on cash, you'd really be helpin' us out.
[The guy doesn't realize he's being spoken to at first, and pauses his Youtomb video and removes his earbuds. He's clearly not used to being interrupted by strangers, so he looks a little hesitant.]
You need something, man?
[The man looks hesitant, but he does stop walking to consider it, rather than just pressing on.
It doesn't last, though.]
Uh, sorry, I gotta keep going or I'll be late. Good luck, man.
[Johnnie lets him go with a sigh, then tracks down another. A few tries, a few pleading faces, eventually one of his targets must need the cash too because he comes back at Johnnie's side as he leads him toward Chrissy and the bike.]
Hey babe, you wanna grab Grandpa's watches? Found someone who can help us out. Seriously, dude, real lifesaver.
[She gives the guy a smile before pulling out the watches in question to hand over to Johnnie. She'd give them directly to the guy but there's no telling if he'll try to take them and run. The fact that Johnnie is trusting future people is pretty impressive, since they've either been shot at or nearly killed at every other visit to the future.]
Yeah, no problem.
[This guy clearly isn't here to talk and is focused on the cash. It makes Chrissy worry he might try to take the money and run. If he does that, they'll get him with minimal effort.
He seems to be honest enough though, because he heads inside as soon as Johnnie gives him the watches and he comes out about ten minutes later with cash. Chrissy's eyes narrow as she watches him, feeling like a lioness ready to pounce if the guy doesn't go straight to Johnnie to hand over the money.]
But in the end, most people even in the future are honest enough when it comes to a mutually beneficial deal. Johnnie takes the cash and fans through it to count it, then hands the guy a chunk of the change.]
Thanks, man. You're a big help. Seeya round maybe, yeah?
[Not a chance. But the guy seems satisfied with his easy earnings, and the remnant is still a huge quantity in Johnnie's eyes. He stuffs the bills in his pocket quickly so he's not waving them around on the street, but he gives Chrissy a grin as he hops onto the bike.]
See? Perfect. That's the way to do it, nice an' quick. Got us a couple hundred more too. We'll be back home so fuckin' loaded we'll have months of cash at least.
[As soon as he's seated she hops on behind him and gives him a squeeze, laughing as she imagines everyone's faces when they pull out wads of cash. It makes her miss Dale and Rigo, and especially Alex. They've barely been gone at all but it somehow feels like it's been months since she's seen them.]
I wonder what your brothers are up to right now. Not in this time, but all the way back home.
[Back in 1967, Alex is crouched beneath his mother's car, cursing under his breath so she won't hear him get frustrated as he tries to do the repairs necessary to keep her comfortable and able to get around. He's got to get back to Vegas eventually, but it's quiet enough he can linger and get things done that his Mama needs.
About ten minutes away, Rigo and Dale are lazily sprawled out up against the couch. Not on it, but rather on the floor propped up against it. They're both high and working on getting higher, a bottle of beer shared between them. The fact that they're both naked is something that they're clearly fine with and used to now, and the haze of smoke after a good fuck has made everything hilarious.
Dale chuckles at something out of nowhere, and passes the joint over to Rigo.]
You think Johnnie and Chrissy are actually finding anything out there?
[He can't remember why they left, what they set out in search of. But it's pretty funny to him right now just thinking about the two of them focusing on anything long enough to finish a task.]
Fuuuuck, wey, they're finding trouble I hope.
[Were they supposed to find anything? Fuck if he knows. Those two are not his concern. Well, Johnnie is sometimes when he needs to turn up for a gig. Chrissy is sometimes when shit's getting extra weird. Otherwise? Whatever, man.
What would add greatly to this is some music but he doubts he can get up right now to actually put on a record. The best he can do is to roll awkwardly forward onto his knees until he can reach the TV to turn it on and find a channel playing either a band or one of those dance tournament shows. He gets the latter, and that's good enough, so he settles back where he was and passes the joint over.]
We gotta get our people on one of these shows someday, compa, we'd wipe the floor with those little white boys. Look at 'em.
You think they'd let us in?
[He sounds doubtful but is high enough to be hopeful and optimistic.]
Maybe with Chrissy they'd let us.
[The joint is passed back and he laughs, head flopping back to rest against the couch.]
Fuuuuuuck, why do I keep mentioning my brother's pain the ass of a girlfriend?
[It's hilarious.
He rubs a hand down his face and grabs the beer to finish off the rest of the bottle. It's tossed across the floor and he grins as he hears it roll.]
[Fuck, that's fucking funny. Rigo punches Dale in the shoulder, then nudges the bottle with his foot.]
Better watch yourself, man. Telling me all your secrets like that?
[It's stupid and he's high and it's funny - good thing, too. He doesn't tolerate bullshit mind games. Or cheating, which he halfway expects Dale will do one of these days, but he's not going to think about it until it happens. Especially not when they're here melting onto the floor in the summer heat.
He manages this time to tap the bottle hard enough with his toe to get it rolling even farther away. Which isn't exactly what he wanted, but he just can't reach it now so that's that.]
You can make it up to me by getting another beer.
[Dale laughs, nearly howls with laughter at what Rigo's saying. Maybe at one time he would've loved to charm Chrissy and steal her away from his brother just for the thrill of it and for the sake of pride but he sees her as an annoying kid he constantly has to clean up after. Yeah, he's fond of her, but it's definitely in the same way he is Johnnie. Not as fond, obviously. ]
She's family, you can't say shit like that.
[He's laughing though, and punches at Rigo's arm before he gets up to his feet to head into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. It's cracked open and he chugs most of it before he delivers it to Rigo with a smirk on his face.]
Don't say shit, I'm getting another.
[Rather than make himself feel like a little bitch for being the beer maid he reaches over to grab Rigo by the hair and tug his head back enough that it's easy for Dale to lean down for a kiss. It's definitely sloppy but who the fuck cares? There's no tongue involved, he's being a gentleman.
That smirk stays on his face as he pulls away, shuffles off, itches his ass, and burps as he heads back to the kitchen to grab the last beer so Rigo can have a full one. He's practically a saint over here.]
[And the reassurance keeps him from dousing Dale in the last mouthful of beer he's been left with, also. He laughs as he finishes it off, causing some to spill from the side of his mouth and onto his chest. Whoops. Feels nice and cold, though, and he needs that right now.
When Dale comes back with the last one, Rigo swipes it and just presses it first straight to his forehead. And then he starts to try to ask something, but he's just so damn high he forgets the question before it leaves his mouth. Oh well. Maybe it's a sign to just crack that beer open and drink the delicious cold right into him.]
Mm. Hey, have you heard from Jet or Tomás lately?
[He's too high to have a serious conversation probably, but he does miss those guys and still hasn't seen them since he got back. Would be pretty fucked up if they wound up in prison but it's just one of those things that happens sometimes.]
Nah.
[Oh.
Okay so that was easy, a one word response sometimes speaks volumes. Then again, Rigo's only been back...however long he's been back. He probably doesn't know.]
Fuck. [His head lifts, and his eyes drift over to watch white people dancing on TV.]
Jet's locked up. [His eyes glance over to Rigo to try and catch his reaction.] County.
[Looking back to the TV then, and he taps out the beat to the song that's playing on his leg.]
Tomás too. [They're good guys. Every time he hears one of theirs is killed or put in jail or worse, he feels the loss. Hell, sometimes he feels personally responsible. He doesn't in either of these cases, but it's still a fucking downer to talk about.]
Haven't heard from either of them since they went in.
Well, so it goes.]
Fuck.
["So it goes" doesn't make it any less awful, of course. Those guys are good. He misses Jet's races, misses Tomás' stupid bravado. But jail is better than dead, at least. They'll find their way back if they can.
He's quiet for a moment after that, just working at his beer and idly watching the dancers on screen. There's a Black couple in there, actually, and they're damn good too.]
See, there's hope for us all yet.
[Rigo says as he gestures with his bottle and a chuckle.]
All that responsibility is a weight he proudly carries, but it can really drag him down when he lets it. Rigo keeps things lighter. Those smiles where he sets aside his bravado and is just his real self seem to be happening more and more lately.
Yeah, he's not examining that too closely. Figuring out what that means still scares the hell out of him.]
You think they'd let two guys like us on there?
[Does he mean just two brown kids from the wrong part of town going to dance with girls they find for the night, or does he mean the two of them specifically dancing together on the program for everyone to see? He keeps it intentionally vague, trying to imagine a world where it's acceptable for two men to dance together on TV like they don't have a fucking care in the world and they belong there.]