1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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September 1993
To make the trip worthwhile, Bill managed to book a private jet. Despite this, Alma was still annoyed that they were going back to their hometown. On the plane, she drank three glasses of champagne at seven in the morning and then slept comfortably half the way. Fortunately, it would be a short trip. They were making the necessary rounds of meeting family and hopefully avoiding townies while there.
Deep down, Bill didn't want to come either, but he felt that was beside the point of the whole trip. However, he was glad this would be the last time he'd be back, and at least this time he wasn't making the journey back alone. He understood Alma's apprehension, but there was something else she just wasn't mentioning. It bothered him, but she was bothered about the entire journey in general, and he didn't feel like bringing it up because it would certainly cause an argument.
They cushioned their arrival in Missouri with a stay in Kansas City rather than just heading straight to Strathburg. However, now they were on the road there, or rather, to Springfield—the largest neighboring town in southwest Missouri.
They were only halfway there on their three-hour road trip when they stopped at some sketchy country gas station. It was the only one they'd encountered that looked the most decent out of all the ones Bill refused to pull off the highway for. Bill had his arms crossed in wait by the one-stall bathroom while Alma and Echo were in there until he could have his turn. He wasn't trusting of the workers or the patrons inside the adjoining cigarette smoke-filled country café. It was quite obvious to the others that they weren't from there, and that just made them easy targets.
How he hated small-town bullshit like this. As if he wanted to be there as much as they did. They were giving him the creeps with their silent, dead stares. The vibe was stuffy as they filled the store with their uninviting energy.
"Don't go outside without me." He told Alma once she exited the bathroom. "Stay close."
"All done, papa!" Echo said, waving her washed hands in the air to which he smiled at her.
"Yeah, okay." She said softly, picking up Echo when she felt his uneasiness.
Alma was heading towards the bathroom with snacks when he got out, wiping his wet hands on his jeans. He grabbed them, and she followed him to the counter to pay for gas as well.
"Jesus," Bill said, annoyed when he was back in the SUV rental after filling the tank. "Bunch of cousin fuckers in this town."
"Very Texas Chainsaw Massacre here," Alma said, munching on Cool Ranch Doritos.
Bill turned his head to look at Echo, drinking milk from a sippy cup with heavy eyes. "Good, you're still with us. Let's get out of here." He said, turning the gear in drive, and feigning a disconcerting shiver.
"You didn't like it?" Alma asked while they were on the road.
Bill rubbed the five o'clock shadow above his lip, contemplating. "The house?"
