milliways_bar | (no subject)

Hey, kids! Remember the '90s? You know, back when everyone wore boots and flannel all the time; mobile phones and home computers were not yet ubiquitous; and the powers that be tried to revitalize the sagging Japanese Beetle! franchise (and grab precious merchandising dollars) by reframing it as the eternal struggle of jocks vs. geeks in a suburban high school, far from its epic WWII origins?

...no? Well, you're just too young to remember. It totally happened that way.

Anyway, in swaggers eighteen-year-old Squirrel, in jeans and his Skyline High Rockets letter jacket (apparently if you're big enough and fast enough, a five-foot-long squirrel tail isn't too much of a liability on the football field; who knew?) and with a real Cheshire grin. It felt good to stuff Beetle in a locker today, better than usual even, and he figures he deserves a treat for it.

Up to the bar he goes, for some deep-dish eggplant parmesan pizza and a double-chocolate malt. Highly botherable.

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"Looks good,"

Most of what Squirrel said didn't actually make sense to William but he's learning that happens here a lot.

"You should try the chicken diavolo pizza," he says. "It'll set your mouth on fire, but it's worth it."

But then, he likes spicy foods.

"Unless you're a vegetarian or something."

"No, I ain't. What's chicken diavolo?"

"Devil's chicken," he says around a mouthful of pizza. "Lot of peppers in it. The cheese balances it out some, but it's still gonna hurt. Puts hair on your chest, or whatever it is they say."

"Spicy stuff can be good for warming you up. Should be able to feel a good chili."

"Oh, yeah," he agrees. "We got a Mexican place down on Seventh that makes the best four-alarm chili in town. We go there sometimes after practice."

"That's good. My Ma makes it really nice when there's time. Where are you from?"

"Mine doesn't do much in the way of chili, but she can do a mean gumbo," he says, and takes another sip of milkshake. "Skyline City, Pennsylvania. How about you?"

"Outside Bisbee in Arizona Territory."

"Arizona," he says. "We went to the Grand Canyon when I was a kid. That was when we found out just how carsick my sister gets on long trips. Nice place, but hot."

Not, obviously, that he needs to tell him that.

"Yeah, hard land to work."

"It's bad enough just to drive through."

Or ride in the back of an RV, whichever.

He takes a big bite of pizza, chews contemplatively.

"Not as bad as Oklahoma though. You think you're never gonna get out of the state."

"I guess, never thought about it that way."

"It's probably worse if you go across Texas or California the long way."

None of their vacations had gone that way though, thankfully. His parents haven't really done the family vacation thing in years, either. And neither he nor his sister minds that much.

"Next time I take a long trip like that though, it won't be with my folks."

"What's the long way? Mean there's goin' around the Horn or across the Plains, not many other ways."

"Which one?" he asks. "For California, going north or south, across the length of the state. For Texas, same thing, but east or west across the middle. I don't know if any highways go that way; probably some do."

"Oh, right, not usin' trains anymore."

"Yeah. Well, some people still do, but then you're limited as to where you can go, and when you can go, and we like the freedom. Course, you're still stuck at the mercy of your parents' wanting to keep to a schedule, and your little sister's need for a bathroom."

"Doesn't sound fun."

"Depends on how you feel about your family. I like mine, but I prefer them in small doses."

"Don't mind mine. Spend lots of time with Mark cause we have to get the work done and Ma's always there waitin' for us."

"Oh, you have to do chores?"

His parents don't make him do anything, besides sometimes wash his dad's car. He used to have to mow the lawn, but he got out of that when he started playing sports. If he's not home, he can't be expected to do anything, right?

"Yeah, my Pa was killed about a year ago so I have to take care of things."

"Sorry to hear that," he says.

And then, since he can't leave well enough alone, "What happened?"

"Its sort of complicated, but he was doing somethin' good just ended up kind of goin' wrong."

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