''It's almost too hot'' says Nick.
In the backroom, towards the end of the hallway, the toilet overflows, there's Fruit Loops on the floor, bare mattresses in every room; the yellowed, old, air conditioner hums and clicks downstairs.
Inside and outside, the air is thick; the backyard overflows with green.
A fan is wedged inside the windowsill in Nick's bedroom.
A naked baby sleeps on the couch downstairs.
The sink in the kitchen is overfilled with pans coated in unidentifiable organisms.
Four different empty boxes of pizza lay on top of a trash can overfilled with waste and the smell of garlic.
A five foot portrait of Squidward Tentacles (in prose) overlooks Nick's room.
Puddles of piss by the toilet and on the carpet of a nearby closet.
The cancer is emanating from the walls as it breathes in rats, trash pandas, and nicotine stains then the sound of screaming infants starts to kick in.
Downstairs is an old basement with dogs on drugs, licking the walls.
A fat child resembling the Michelin Man sits in a comforter like an overweight father who wears wife beaters and beer on his chest.
Nick's room reeks of sickness and sweat; the heat makes the air taste like it.
I feel like a homeless man on a drinking binge. The fan does little to make the air thin; a liter of sweat coats my forehead.
Eight people pile in a room; bunk beds with bare mattresses and five people puffing on cigarettes in a small laundry room. Few wear a shirt, the infants continue to howl, and there's no electricity in the living room.
The fan creeks and hums loudly; the living room floor is littered with pieces of leather from a chair.
Five adolescents left to find narcotics.
Part Two:
The Zesticide
''West Virginueir..smoke my meth...'' sang Ryan and I as we drove off on the road.
''You remember Fight Club'' I asked Ryan. ''No'' said Ryan sarcastically. ''Whatever, you remember when...I never saw it'' said Ryan. The sound of music blasting and gravel banging all over the car was incessant. ''Ah crap, I hope this isn't it...son of a jave'' I said.
The house was there all right but the property didn't look totally abandoned.
There were newer farm machines in the nearby barns and chows were wandering behind it. We drove down the road to see if there was anything else but that was the house that I had located online. The lawn looked freshly mowed.
It was a perfect day for travel. The sun glowed hot on us and the land was bright.
Ryan tried keeping his mouth shut because the air conditioner was blasting out cow shaz and breathing in cancer.
''Teletubbies is f***** scary'' Ryan said. ''You ever seen those videos where they have the Teletubbies in black and white? They look like javing axe murderers.'' I replied. The weird music pumping out of his car speakers made the ride eerie.
The wide and empty highway turned into the woods as we drove through some back roads. There was a deep creek running through the ground to our right. I saw an abandoned house completely slanting on one side and another with junk all over the lawn.
We slowly surveyed it and decided to turn back and go inside one of them. We drove down a little ways and saw that the wooded area turned into a huge clearing with large, newly built, homes scattered around. We stopped at a street and I turned and saw the town sign on someone's lawn scrawled across a rusty truck; ''Hauntown'' it said.
We turned around to the abandoned houses and parked next to the one with all the crap on the lawn. It was a little too close to the clearing, as we saw a house with people walking around it, but I wanted to see if I could get into one of these.
I saw an old decaying barn and other small dilapidated buildings going up a hill behind the house where we parked by. I walked alongside the property, the one that was slanted had a fence around it, but the fence ended besides and behind the one where we parked by. It was perfect.
There was a small road that led to a small gate that led up the hill besides the house and I walked back to tell Ryan to move his car. I walked back into the backyard and into the backdoor.
There were wooden planks laid up besides each other in piles in another room but the main part of the house was open. It had looked like an abandoned house project; we assumed that it had been so for maybe 20 years.
The floor felt stable enough to walk on and I walked straight to the living room which was empty. The whole house was completely empty.
The deck in front of the front door was slowly rotting away and I walked into a small bathroom and only found insulation all over the floor.
While I was coming out of the bathroom, Ryan pointed out some scribbling on the wall; ''Guys we're being haunted. Help us'' said Ryan as he read it out ''Ur Next''. He said that he saw that the entire second floor was only catwalks for whoever was last working on it.
I found a narrow staircase, with a door to a dirt basement under it, and slowly walked up the stairs. He was right. I spotted a small hallway in front of me, blue tarp covering the doorway, and thought that it wasn't probably stable enough.
Part Three:
The Bare Cheeked Riders
The air was warm and the sun was hot on our bodies. We drove lazily up and down the highway, we passed farms, towns, and fields of endless grain. The roads would wind and rise around the lonely road.
We passed a rural four way intersection, there was a guy sitting on the flatbed of his truck, nursing a few beers, and watching cars drive down the hills. He nodded at the tractor in front of us and took another sip of his beer.
It was like a summer day. The towns we would pass, strangely, would have not a soul out in the streets or on their lawns. The work day seemed to make the little towns ghost towns as they probably had to travel a couple of miles for work.
The guitar of Willie Nelson purred softly in the car and I yawned softly as I watched these places before my eyes disappear out of the passenger window.
I saw streams of bikers all over the highway. They made their leather look small as their large bodies stretched the clothing so much that it stuck on their bodies while others waved loose in the waves of air.
Ryan switched the music to The Beatles so he wouldn't fall asleep and we took to mockery; '' my friend works for the national health, mr methead, you'll pay money just to see yourself with mr methead..mr methead, he sells whatever he can...well, well, he'll see your veins are taunt, well, well, well, I see the plunger coming down''.
It was an unbelievable relief when I saw it on the lonely road. Most of the day had been quick disappointments and long periods of having our backs stick to the seats.
The house was in the middle of a huge cornfield, solitary, and only a little dirt road leading up to it. It stood out like an island in the sea of nothing. In the distance, I could see farming vehicles doing their normal job in the field. It was like it's own little oasis.
Ryan pulled right up to it, just before the overgrown lawn, and looked at me. I admired his audacity and got out.
The property had a large, brick, barn to our right and a pile of rubble just a few feet in front of it. In front of us was the house; surrounded by large trees.
There was still a powerline that was connected to the house though it had long been shut off. The lawn was clean except for normal tree foliage and whatever had fallen off the house. There was a large deck that had collapsed in front of the house. There were no doors and even a sewer or a well was built into the foundation.
I was hesitant to go inside since the place had looked like the oldest house I had seen. I walked to the right and wanted to loop back around before figuring if it was safe to go inside.
I could see from the outside that it wasn't. A huge tree had collapsed in the backyard and glass was all over the ground. I peered inside, through the windows, and saw that the place was stripped. Ryan figured that it had to be maybe 70 years old.
The floors looked long rotted, the paint on the walls had been curled and the whole house had the color melted off of it. I saw inside the small living room, which was covered in pieces of the ceiling and a rotary phone still on the wall, there was a bathroom with the toilet smashed out of its place. There were holes in the walls that revealed wood and brick foundations. It looked so strange. There were few doors inside and the whole place was entirely open.
''This is where you get Hepatitis G'' said Ryan as he watched me walk all over the broken glass of the windows. I saw that there were holes in the concrete on the ground and saw that some parts of the basement windows were just holes.
Ryan pointed out that the main staircase basically floated in the air as the floor beneath it was hollowed out. We wouldn't have been able to even get past the front door.
We walked towards the barn and there was nothing but old tires inside. I looked at the rubble not too far away from it and assumed that it had either been another barn or smaller house.
We slowly drove backwards, the house getting smaller and smaller, and we drove off into the country road.
It simmered in the sun and it always seemed all so distant than before.
Part Four:
It's Almost Too Hot
The road was quiet, not so the driver, the night was long and mysterious.
Downtown was eerie. Only the veterans bar was open.
We couldn't shake off a car filled with ''good ole boys'' until we drove straight out of town. Redneck country. Dimly lit houses, metal farm fences, and two headlights right from behind.
We turned back, shaking the kids, and with the dark country road all around; the driver was spooked.
The car was falling apart, sounding more like the chopping of a mower, and the moonshine had taken a toll.
Almost outside of town now, I remembered the gravel road leading out of the back of the local high school to where a graveyard lies and where I thought the schoolhouse was.
Stomping inside the graveyard, a small site built upon a hill, I took a flashlight and scoured through the graves to find my grandmother's grave and a better site to see where the school was.
You could see the edge of the sky around the edges of the trees that surrounded the graveyard; the cities water tower loomed over the tree line like I remembered years ago.
Directly outside the graveyard was the back of the high school. I remembered decrepit greenhouses, an overgrown field, and the old elementary school in the distance like something far off as the funeral procession ahead of me; the quiet burial and the strange feeling in the air.
When I looked out at that field now, the school was gone, the greenhouses were limited to one but completely remodeled and the land where the old school lied on; a new football field.
The lights around the box office were still on, mosquitos buzzed around the source of light, and the nearby highway quietly dissipated by each car that passed by.
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