AlteredTundraEverything was hot. It was the kind of heat she'd expected to live in on the road: latent, awful soup heat. It was the kind of soup that condensed in her skull and poured out of her ears. It rolled down her sides, moist and steamy and stinking of pot and wild yeists and mud. But she could retreat into her van and watch the world run past her on the road. The sensation wasn't overbearing because reprieve was just a key turn away. The drama of moisture and warmth coming from the world and not just other people could be left to other people.
But her van's air conditioning had died in the night, and now she had to stop in the middle of nowhere because, in all likelyhood, her van's front axle had cracked again. Even if Mani were here he'd not patch the axle a second time. No sane mechanic would. She would have to replace it. This, the AC, and the waning transmission. And maybe the driver.
"James says we have to start moving again soon."
...and Rozzle.
Paulie didn't move, her face still pressed into her folded arms. She was laying out on the browning grass in the empty lot beside parking for Gordon's station, face down. There had been good rains all over the northeast this year, but Gordon's was in an almost fifty mile patch experiencing this weird micro-drought. The surrounding woodlands and pastures seemed one accidental spark short of a brushfire. And here was Rozzle walking up with her tenth cigarette of the afternoon. Paulie winced into her arms, shaking her head mumbling unintelligibly.
"Oh come on, cheer up! You can pack up your shit in like, ten minutes. We squeeze into Nancy's bus and hit the city limits a little after sundown!" Chipper as a sunbeam in a winter storm. Paulie felt a weight against her lower back as Rozzle flopped onto the ground and rested her head. "James can tow your van to his parents' place in Rhode Island. You head west for a trimming season, save up, fix everything by the end of next spring."
A part of Paulie wanted to reach back and shove Roz away. But it wasn't as though Roz could actually make Paulie feel any warmer than she already did. Besides, a much larger part of Paulie still wasn't sure she could function without knowing Rozzle was near by. She needed Roz when she saw Simon tonight; someone to ease the tension. Paulie lifted her head to prop her chin on her arms, staring out at the empty highway. From her vantage point she could see Nancy's converted school bus and James' truck side by side in the parking lot, over a dozen people crowding around and busying themselves while everyone waited for Mister Gordon to tell them what they already knew. Paulie's van was fucked.
"Rozzle... Nancy hates me." Paulie said, watching a pair of Nancy's weird cult people wrestle with one another.
"Yeah, but she looooves me." Roz cooed. Pauling felt Roz rolling onto her side to look at the back of her head. She ran a hand through Paulie's mess of corn husk hair and started scritching gently at her scalp. "It's like, three hours to New York from here. Preeeetty sure she owes me that much for keeping her so comfy during tear-down." Paulie moaned something between mirth and disgust, closing her eye and delighting in Roz's touch.
They rested like that for a minute or two, Roz sitting up after a while to scratch with both hands at Paulie's back, digging nails deep. Then Paulie opened her eyes as Herb Gordon's voice rang out from his little garage.
"Yup! Your van is fucked! I dunno how ya'll got it here with this axle in one piece!" For being open fifteen years somehow Herb still had his accent, a southern drawl so twangy it reminded Paulie of her cousins on Sand Mountain.
It was still putting her back up, so obvious that Roz squeezed her shoulders comfortingly before rising from the ground. Paulie pushed herself up to her knees, looking through her mop of blonde hair over at James whom, like the rest of the convoy, was looking over at her. He was the calm center of a small little crowd of mournful faces sharing a sudden and pointed silence.
Then Nancy came out of the store with her daughter in her arms. Nancy was the big, billowy, bosomy whirlwind leading this mad tornado of people back to their homes. And her daughter was wailing, appropriately timed for the funeral dirge of Paulie's van. She didn't want to go west again this year. She wanted to stay in one place for more than a month for once. She didn't want her van.
Maybe it was the sheer discomfort of the situation, or maybe she just needed to mourn for a little bit. Paulie wasn't going to fix her van, and sitting there in the dead grass and dirt, with Rozzle offering her a hand, she started to cry.
Date: 1st August 2017
Location: Simon's Penthouse Suite, Queens NY, USA
Time: 11:30PM
Location: Simon's Penthouse Suite, Queens NY, USA
Time: 11:30PM
Paulie and Rozzle sat against the wall across from Simon's door, leaning against one another, Rozzle's phone murmuring with today's stories from All Things Considered. Paulie was barely listening to the story, just concentrating on the smell of Rozzle's pungent odor and her weight. She leaned up for another kiss. Anything to keep Paulie present. Paulie couldn't remember the last time she'd gone more than a few minutes in a city without Blanking. This had been the most uncomfortable night of her life, having to pay for food and talk to everyone she needed something from. It had to be worth it to keep Rozzle here. It was the strongest connection to her normal life she'd had. Rozzle had been around since Paulie's first burn. She meant everything.
"...Virginia today." Paulie snapped out of it, jerking her lips away from Rozzle and staring blankly at nothing, listening to the radio stream. Rozzle moaned and tried to pull Paulie back in, and Paulie reflexively butted her head at Rozzle's chin gently. The girl laughed, but rested back against the wall. They listened.
"...Among those aboard were House representatives Mason Pike and Laura Eiselstein from districts in Maine as well as several senior staff of Pare-Shaped Solutions. A viral video of the accident has already made its way through social media, with several outlets hosting the video file after multiple youtube uploads were taken down for content flags. As of this broadcast those uploads have been allowed back on the site. Local authorities have not yet commented on the situation save to say that investigations are--"
The elevator down the hall beeped, and Paulie turned to look. Simon strolled out into the corridor, with two friends of his Paulie had met beforehand and one she hadn't. They all teetered behind Simon in various states of intoxication as she stood up, helping Rozzle to her feet. Simon just looked at them, his crew noisily making their way into the apartment. He closed the door behind they and Rozzle, who threw herself into the mix like the relentless lapdog she was. Simon just stared down at her for a few moments, Paulie staring back, each of them defiant.
"Look, I can explain,' they said in unison. Paulie guffawed and fell back against the wall laughing, and Simon looked away in that sheepish way he did when he felt guilty about something, ginger curls hiding most of his face.
It's going to be a good night. Paulie thought, grinning. She leaned down to pick up a couple of luggage bags, Simon following to help her as they began to tell each other the stories about their day. Paulie's van. Simon's latest production gig. Rozzle's hands. One small story after another, each wrapping the sharp stone that floated between... burying it as the night carried on into morning.
Maybe things would work out.
