House of the Yellow Fern

iii. Hollan

07/11/2030 11:00 am

Hollan Dowell made it a point to emphasize his discomfort whenever he could. There wasn't a day gone by where opportunity didn't strike the chance for the man to voice his opinion on any matter concerning him. It was a typical day, in the sense that it was already almost noon and the worse thing to happen was a bit of reckless driving on a strangers part. The sun had just begun to peek from the tops of the tinted scenery of New Balton, and rays of light jutted out between towering office complexes, quaint little bakeries, and the like.

Hollan turned to the right of him, thick black hair wobbling on his head, and eyed the rather peculiar individual slouching half-asleep in his passenger seat.

"Jesus Christ, Jacob-" Hollan started, addressing the dozing man. With his free hand Hollan shook the other, startling him and sending the man jolting upwards as if hit by a draft of fresh air. "Don't slouch like that you're gonna blow out your spine."

Jacob sat up, ignoring Hollan out of pure exhaustion, and turned on his side. Shifting around, he found a less than comfortable position crouched diagonally against the dashboard and seat buckle strap. A long drawn out groan escaped his lips.

"Where the hell are we?" He asked, squinting in the light of the morning and tugging on the seat belt like a rope. Hollan looked up out of the front car window, catching a glimpse of a sign in between an intersection. The sign was covered slightly in a grimes film, it was easily readable.

"Lakey Street." Hollan called out, cursing under his breath as the car in front of him cut out into the next lane of traffic before driving off out of view. The intersection passed behind them and Hollan made a right turn at the next light.

"How much longer till we get there? The festival are can't be that far away from here." Jacob asked, pulling himself up and rubbing his eyes red.

"Not long I presume. You have the directions. You should know how long."

"We've been driving for nearly eighteen hours Hollan. Eighteen."

Hollan patted the boys knee, rubbing his hands on the leather exterior of Jacobs jeans. "Poor baby, don't worry we'll get there soon and change your diaper." He mocked in a rather calm tone, his eyes never leaving the messy traffic around him. Jacob rolled his eyes just out of the others peripheral vision and scoffed. Hollan felt Jacobs hand grip his shoulder, slightly tugging on the plaid button up shirt he wore.

"Are we there yet?" He immaturely moaned, pouting and tilting his head back. Hollan laughed but kept fixed on the road ahead of him. The road curved right, leading under a pair of identical glass buildings with a hallway suspended in the air linking the giants together.

"You act like that and I'll kick your ass out of the car." He joked. Jacob let go of Hollans shirt and pulled out his phone.

Typical. Thought Hollan, deep in concentration on the road ahead. The two passed many people, all of which seemed to blend in with the buildings themselves. There was not a spot of color to be seen anywhere except for the occasional slivers of navy blue or a watered down creamy yellow. It was like driving through an organized scrapyard.

Despite the lack of color, this side of New Balton was rather lively. The two men were originally from West Union, a newly established state formed of the entire state of Mississippi and half of Louisiana, but the sight of cheer in the people's eyes made them feel at home. Their car passed a young skinny woman, bright smiled and starry eyed, who tipped her ratty black cap at the two as they drove. Another woman, this one much thinner than the one before, waved to the car as it passed, her thin hands seemingly dissolving in the light.