''Some people claim that there's some paint thinner in my veins....'' The Jaffer sang to the tune of Margaritaville as we raced down the highway.
We've already been on the road for a few hours now. The first couple places we had been searching for was either blocked off by trespassing signs or non existent. The Jaffer was huffing a bag of cigs he got for 10 bucks but steady on the wheel.
The day was a colder one out of the beginning of Spring but the sun was still out and we were ready for a day's worth of travel.
Almost by accident, we were going past a windy road that led out to the highway when I saw some pillars of metal that were built into the large hills of rock on our right.
There was a little place to park and we stopped to see what they were. It was cold when I got out of the car, I fetched a sweater out the back, and we walked up to the pillars.
They were lime kilns, long abandoned, and now a fixture on the side of the road. The large furnace doors were now bricked up and were left with only with the metal lids to recognize what they were. There was a stone stairway built alongside the pillars that led to the top of them.
Once we got up the steps, I recognized the small building on top of the hill from a picture on the internet. It was a building that served as a warehouse for the lime as rocks were poured, from a wooden cart track, by the side of the top of the kilns to be turned into limestone. The warehouse was all shacked out, covered in trespassing signs, and that was all that was left of an entire town that was built around the kilns called Hurstville.
You could see that all around it was private property, from all the crap laying around, and there were more huge hills off in the distance. It looked spooky even in the daylight.
We got back on the highway, and crossed the street into gravel; ''ooooh myy..ooh HOO myy. That could of been bad'' said The Jaffer in his low, nasally, stoner voice as we hit rock. He was going 30 on that crap and I could feel us being dragged into different directions as The Jaffer kept on course. We went up huge hills into the nothingness; just gravel and obscure 50s music blasting.
Once, we got deeper and deeper into the gravel road, I had a feeling that this place wouldn't be out here.
Part Two: The Booze House
''Okay. I'm in a full abandoned house now..umm..quite terrifying, The Jaffer won't come out, so I'm stuck in'' I said as I walked into a trashed house along side of the highway. I could see The Jaffer shaking his head as he sat in the parked car from the busted out windows of the house.
I came in from the back door as I walked from the small driveway. There was another house on the property but The Jaffer's refusal made me felt pressured to move quickly.
The overgrown lawn was covered in junk, the other house looked worse, even had a car with a smashed window besides it. I moved slowly to the back, not wanting to step on anything that would slice through my shoes, until I saw the back door.
I could see the rest of the small lawn, an empty pole that was for drying laundry, and the highway just 20 feet away. I walked right up to the open back door and walked in.
The house was really trashed. It was a small, single floor, garage combination house. It had looked abandoned for at least 10 years.
On my immediate left, was a red tablecloth table covered in dust and an old stove beside it. The floor was covered in cardboard and empty booze bottles.
I looked to my right and saw the kitchen and that was even worse. It was covered in pink cartons of eggs and other assorted trash. I could see that there was a bathroom by the stove, which was covered in grease and dust, that it was inaccessible from all the trash on the ground.
I saw that there was a small living room and hallway that lead to multiple rooms. I felt the dread of junkies flying out of the empty rooms with razor sharp teeth and heroin needles so I grabbed a large, empty, wine bottle off of the floor and slowly made my way down the hallway. It was completely silent except for the sounds of birds chirping in the middle of the day.
The broad daylight lit the house up and I saw that they were all empty. Each footstep made clinking noises from all the booze bottles on the ground. I saw that all of the rooms were empty.
The spring breeze poured through the shattered windows of the trashed rooms. I noticed one at the end of the hallway must have belonged to a child since the cheap, wooden door was covered in stickers. All that was inside was a stack of mattresses. I exhaled and walked back into the living room.
The living room had dirty couches flipped over each other and a gallon bottle of Crown Royal was sitting on an empty TV stand. I peered out out of the front door, covered in branches, and saw that cars kept slowly passing The Jaffer's car and zooming off into the distance. I got nervous but was still determined so I turned and saw that there was a door leading to the small garage and opened it.
The garage looked like it had been a workshop, telling from the large table in the back, but now was a huge trash pile covered in bed frames, mattresses, boxes of empty booze bottles, an old computer, and various appliances stacked next to each other in a heap.
The garage door was jammed slightly open by decay and a red jacket hung on the wall by the door I came in. I saw through the door of the garage, blocked by junk, that The Jaffer was waving to get my attention. I didn't want to leave but I knew I could always come back. I ran across the lawn and into the car where The Jaffer quickly backed up and got back onto the highway.
I was confused and also annoyed so I asked what his deal was. He told me that, when I was in the garage, a car off the highway came down the road even slower than the others and parked down the road until I came out and got into the car.
After that we drove further and further East until we saw the Mississippi and The Wapsipinicon overflowing over the rural land.
We were on the main road, going south, so we were safe but on each side of the road; the water was slowly filling up the land and pouring out onto the roads.
It made it look almost like marshes in Florida.
The daylight made the trees fluorescent green and made the road glow with a bright reflection that bit into your eyes. It was like we were driving off of an island and back into Iowa.
By the time, we felt like we were back in Iowa, we had spent most of the day looking and finding nothing. The land had opened and devoured these places that I was dead set on finding. I only saw steep canyons of meth country and chows wandering around huge acres of land.
We were on our way back when we decided to stop in the last town we went through to find somewhere to eat.
It was a larger rural town but still small and yet felt different. We were cruising slowly down the small downtown until I spotted a small, hole in the wall, type bar and we sat inside to enjoy cheap hambugs and garbage service.
''Their pizza doesn't look bad'' said The Jaffer. ''I can't stand bizza'' I replied with a chuckle. ''Ah!'' said The Jaffer in surprise; ''It's homemade bizza''. ''That's the worst in my opinion'' I said.
The Jaffer sat disgusted after he had tried his glass of pop to find it tasteless so I took the straw and filled it with ketchup until it looked like a heroin needle. It was almost 20 minutes until the waitress handed me my bill and was even longer after that to return.
I saw in front of me that a small table of local kids were getting their food a lot faster and I sat annoyed. The Jaffer went outside for a cig and came back saying ''Didn't know that you could sit in a bar and gamble with cards''. I laughed and said ''You probably can't. It's not like that matters out here. For all we know, some dude could get shot and run out of the place like it was an old saloon''.
I finally got up to locate the waitress and found her talking up a storm at the bar. As she took my bill, and was processing it, I noticed that the bar was filled with strange drunken men. They eyed me because they knew that I wasn't from around here.
I had a feeling that was the reason for the worthless service. I grabbed my change and walked out, passing the poker game going on, I saw that it was a bunch of overworked grampies with their wills on the betting table and enough booze in their system to go to each other's houses and fist fight out on the front lawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment