We had long passed Tama; it's light soaked, neon paradise, of the Meskwaki Casino was the last sign of life in western Iowa.
The Inchmobile II (this time a Buick Park Ave) had been firing on all cylinders since we left. The smell of cigarette smoke and energy drinks was heavy in the air. The Inch looked reserved but his knuckles were white as he held onto the steering wheel as he knew the contraption could burst into flames at any moment.
The only light was from other cars on the highway and passing lights from towns we passed. The more street lights I saw, I knew that we were close to the city of Boone.
We got off the highway and came onto the main stretch of town. We had little to eat at this point, we saw a country buffet and was prepared. We walked in and it was the usual country sight, people porking down on greasy food, and swatting at their kids to shut up.
I glanced at the menu, saw the prices, and felt that the crap wasn't worth that much so we settled for Burger King across the way. I was laughing at the woman's reaction as we left, she looked disgusted but couldn't seem to recognize the disgust around her.
The Inch was ready to set his teeth on a hardwood table so we rushed in and got our food. I sat there, next to a TV, and watched the weather forecast; cold and colder. It felt like it took us forever. I kept scanning out the window to try to get a glimpse of what we would be seeing but it was pretty dark. I could see a small strip mall but all the lights were off, the buildings empty, and only a decrepit car wash sat; radiating hissing neon light in the night.
When we were finally finished, we walked out and got back into it. Just before we got downtown, I heard the thump of bass and saw bright, colored, lights radiate off the passenger side mirror. A party bus slowly passed us, the people inside were full of drunk 20 somethings grinding all over each other, I laughed and leaned out of the truck to get take a picture of the debauchery. Once I got over the window ledge, some chicks and dudes turned, smiling and drinks in hand as I took their picture. I got back in and took out a cigarette. The Inch was laughing and so we cruised on through town looking for something to explore.
It was dead, we went up many hills, passed a lot of locally owned hardware stores, and finally realized that we were downtown. It was much like any other small town downtown; dim streetlights, quiet streets, and the turn of the century architecture that always seemed to glimmer in the night.
We wandered the streets until we passed a bar that was being filled from the party bus. They were already drunk and ran into each other as they all stumbled into the bar only to get more drunk but everything was still quiet. Inch was plotting to sneak into the booze shack with the drunks but we had a mission. Granted, it wasn't much of a mission, but, getting hammed and being stuck in Timbuktu with The Inch, wasn't it.
We, then, took to seeking about anything interesting. It only seemed to be getting later and nothing was panning out. We were spreading more and more out of town until The Inch spotted this large building behind a high school. We drove over the high school parking lot and saw that there was an abandoned concrete building. We eyed it for a while until The Inch drew a cigarette and walked up to the front door of the office. He laughed, saying, ''watch this motherf***** be unlocked'' and pushed open the door. I was laughing at this point and followed him in.
The place had a real musty smell and everything was dark except the front office. There was insulation and plaster all over the floor. I told Inch to take out the light on his phone and point it to the floor as we went through the place. We walked down a small corridor, I looked to my right, and saw a stack of antique computers thrown around the floor. Inch was in the next room and commenting about we were either going to be arrested or murdered by junkies coming out of the dark. The whole place was in front of a relatively busy intersection of the end of town. Headlights kept bleeding through the windows as we crept around.
The Inch would keep stopping in mid walk and tweak about how he could hear ''footsteps'' or something. ''I'm getting really bad vibes from this place, man'' he'd say. I could see outside from a window and saw that the place must of went back a 100 feet more back. The place just seemed too big for this small building and I couldn't figure out how to get back there. I walked into, what must of been another office, and almost into the insulation hanging in big, pink, slabs out of the ceiling. Ceiling fans were busted and more parts were covered in water damage.
We finally found ourselves where we started and saw another corridor that we didn't notice the first time. It led towards the back and into a staircase heading down.
There was no light at all. Inch could see the gears turning in my head and said ''Hell no, no way, for all we know there's a horde of angry metters down there just waiting to cop another dollar fifty to buy some H''. Inch thought he heard some noises from down there and ran towards the front door. I followed him out and we were out in the cold again but it was all exciting. I was ready for about a thousand more experiences like that; getting more intense with each one. The Inch was stumbling back to his car like a drunk old man. Just drunk off his own fear.
The Inch was spooked. The demons had reached into his brain and took out his senses. He was convinced to leave but instead we went deeper into Boone County.
We reached the end of town and passed this school. The parking lot was full of cars and people kept coming and going out of the gym doors. I was intrigued so I had him stop and we went inside. We wouldn't see any of these javes ever again anyway. It ended up being a Catholic school having a basketball game. Parents and kids were walking in and out of the halls to get to the gym. I turned and saw on the wall was a picture of the Pope, of course, but somehow it struck me as hilarious. Just a large picture of an old guy with an awkward smile on his face plastered on the wall.
The Inch was rolling on the floor as we went to the closest restroom, some kid was horrified by our appearance as we walked past, and we left. Now, The Inch was in a hurry to leave. He had drug connections back in town to attend to.
We wandered until we saw a gas station. I spotted this shacked out one and only found that the place was abandoned and had a car graveyard in the back and a pop machine, still full, that had been there for at least five years now; the wrapping long faded and the liquid probably now more poisonous than it started out as.
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