On the Lam (Wistful Beast and Vermiciro)

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The passenger's side floor was littered with discard. In under a day, Judith had covered it with bullets, wadded clothing, and the like. If Callie wasn't inclined to resting her feet on the dash or seat, she'd be temporarily occupied. It was evident that Judith wasn't about to address her clutter. Though such disregard was an act of laziness, in a passing thought she considered the mess and opportunity to busy Callie's hands. A potential distraction, and excuse.

As the car was pulled to the shoulder, Judith readied to climb over the console and take her new seat. "I never said I wanted to drive." she absently corrected. "I asked if you wanted me to drive. But the result's all the same. As long as we're moving, I ain't got no problem. Now move y'r ass. I've people to piss-off with my slow-ass driving." though her words were no more delicate than usual, her tone lacked threat and vitriol. Order softened to suggestion with a weary, somnolent cadence.

"You might want to load that gun I tossed you as well." Judith added in after thought. With the time and bullets at hand, she figured it was the best Callie could do if she wasn't interested in eating.
 
Corrections were taken with a grain of salt. An offer was an offer and Callie was going to take it no matter how it was phrased. There would be plenty of other opportunities for her to drive, but now was not an ideal one. Clutter was hardly a hindrance in comparison to Callie's other current predicaments so the prospect of having little leg room was hardly heeded.

Hostility was lacking in Judith's remarks. Whether it was from exhaustion, lack of importance, or a kind gesture was not to be evaluated by Callie. Instead she opened her door and exited the vehicle to avoid clambering over to the other seat.

Once on the other side of the car she opened the door again and entered, careful not to disturb the contents littered on the floor. With a pop the door was pulled shut yet again and Callie buckled up again. After grabbing the gun she had been given and scooping up a handful of stray bullets in an unsteady hand she tucked her legs up into a crossed legged position. Gun in hand, the task of loading it served as a distraction. Repetitive motions could prove comforting. Its simplicity sometimes had a chance of alleviating her tension. No results showed yet, shaky fingers nearly releasing the tiny golden cylinders in hand.

"Thanks..."Callie offered again before Judith started driving. Slow or not, good or bad, Callie didn't care about Judith's driving capability right now so long as she didn't get them killed.
 
Graceless, all angles and limbs, a giraffe treading mountain scree, Judith managed to clear the console and take seat behind the wheel. On day she'd accept the dwindling limits of her flexibility, but none too soon. With a mirror's view of the car roof and feet touching helplessly short of the pedals, Judith made adjustments while Callie settled shot-gun beside her. With a soft grunt, Judith acknowledged her partner's gratitude, not knowing what else to say. She wasn't familiar with simple kindness.

The car shifted into drive, and Judith waited for a break in traffic before returning to the lane without signalling. Despite other divers and architecture thrumming with life, the road felt lonely. The car an island of imperfect isolation, coasting along veins of macadam. It tempted wayward thoughts. And the quiet inside, the pregnant silence between them of that unaddressed, only darkened her ideations.

A past rife with reneged vows, faults, and empty promises. A future of bleak portents and prayer. Judith wanted neither on her mind. Absently, she turned on the radio, hoping it could affix her to the present as they slowly continued north.
 
One by one the bullets were loaded into the gun at a snail pace, arduous with jittery fingers. This posed no issue. It wasn't like there was a time limit, or time in general. Right now on the open road time seemed to have stopped in its tracks, heels dug into the ground stubbornly. They had no curfew, no specific arrival time. Or a specific destination for that matter.

While their goal was north, right now there was no here or there. Only nowhere. Open road and unidentified quaint towns offered no footing to stand on, no familiarity. Nothing to grasp for. No longer were they Callie and Judith, coming from very different backgrounds. Now they were only castaways, branded as murderers in name and in truth and bound by their deeds. Such grim and overwhelmingly accurate speculations did nothing to alleviate the tension that Callie sought to dispel. Once the gun was loaded she had little else to occupy her mind with.

Before her anxiety could mount again Callie leaned down and scooped up the discarded clothing. Neatly she folded them out of a mere distraction, not blatant courtesy. As she carefully folded both the pants and shirt, an obnoxious presence around her ankle began to beg for her attention. The folded clothes were placed gently on the floor behind the console. Then Callie pulled up her pant leg a few inches to locate the culprit of her added discomfort.

Of course it was the kitchen knife, seated smugly in that duct tape sheath. The sheath was hastily removed and with that the weapon. Judith had turned the radio on as Callie shoved the over sized cutlery into the glove compartment. Now things were a bit more organized and this left less distractions. To occupy herself Callie turned the gun over in her hands, feeling the weight of its potential. One pull on that trigger could do much more damage than one would assume.
 
Between county lines, pressing deeper into open country, the radio hissed in a mist of static. Spectral voices murmuring beneath the sibilance of electric rain pitched and ascended with frenetic cadence as Judith tried finding a clear station. Psycho babble, schizophrenic clips of sound popped between frequencies. But little came in. Clarion were stations of disinterest, fervent sermons pontificating Christ, twangy bluegrass, and an incongruous coverage of horse-racing.

After minutes of fruitless effort, Judith turned it off, the car once again swelling with the quiet of automotive ambiance.

Conversation could have warmed them, a shroud to keep ill thoughts at bay, gossamer thin though it would be. But Judith was settled in the reticence her memories evoked. Warped by perspective and softened with time, they still ached with the persistence of an old wound. Familiarity hadn't fostered immunity. Regrets and misunderstandings still dogged her. It wasn't until the hour turned that irritance tempted her to speak again.

"Why the fuck are there so many trucks?" she asked rhetorically, already possessing a vague understanding of logistics. The semis limited what scenic view the road provided, embittering the air with acrid exhaust, and slowly incensing Judith. The passing of each exit the trucks didn't take became exponentially vexing. She was going to pass them, fuck it.

Judith pulled into the adjacent lane without signal, cutting off whatever soul now traveled behind them, and proceeded to accelerate. The semis lazily fell behind as the car mounted near suicidal speed. 110 miles per hour, traffic shrank in the rear-view before Judith finally began to slow, shifting back into the other lane. But not without consequence.

Closing distance was the car she cut off.
 
One moment Callie was continuing to thoughtfully examine the gun in hand, the next she became aware of an obnoxious unshakable presence. All around them were semi trucks that were lazily continuing towards their unknown destinations, emitting thick diesel fumes all the while. Foul, grey acrid gasses lifted off into the air and choked it. Blatant disgust crept onto Callie's face. Of course the annoyance hadn't slipped past Judith and she commented in her usual rhetorical fashion, making it clear the question wasn't to be answered.

As opposed to gritting her teeth and tolerating the inconvenience Judith pulled forwards at break neck speed. Callie discarded the gun in hand without a second thought and the weapon clattered to the floor. Fingers dug harshly into the armrests and Callie's feet kicked out so that her heels rested against the glove compartment in front of her, a hasty attempt to ground herself during this rapid and sudden acceleration. "What the fuck!"Callie exclaimed suddenly, thoroughly shocked and broken out of what reverie she had.

Without anything said Judith pulled them back into a land and slowed down, leaving Callie to gasp and gawk. Before any scolding could be uttered a figure made itself present in the side mirror. Behind them was a car that was approaching them rather quickly. Panic rekindled. "W...wha...what the hell are they t..trying to do?!"She asked loudly, stutter less apparent than it would have been if she were speaking at a more acceptable volume.
 
Callie's concern wasn't reciprocated. Seeing no threat in the irate, encroaching motorist, Judith clicked her tongue, nonchalantly restating her earlier sentiment. "I fucking hate driving." Open air and covering asphalt had their merits, but traffic quickly snuffed them. Pessimism focusing on the negative, Judith was eager to slip off the highway. Between the speed, other drivers, and monotony, the scenic side roads were gaining appeal.

In second thought, Judith made flippant attempt to assuage her partner's worry. "It's just some asshole." she shrugged. "Probably wants to give me a piece of his mind or something." The confines of the car gave an illusion of shelter, fostering a sense of false safety in Judith. People were unpredictable, she was aware of so much. But feeling the weight of the car, the revolver, and her remaining freedoms, Judith wasn't about to be moved by an obstreperous, potentially violent, driver. If they offered a fight, she'd see they regretted it.

In a matter of seconds the car had covered the space between, a silver sedan sluicing up like a fish beside them. A man in his thirties was yelling to them out his window, words weathered by the thrashing wind, only their force breached the gap between cars. Every expletive punctuated with violent gesture, horn blaring. Judith didn't bat an eye. Didn't exchange even a word, but neither did she ignore him. In smooth gesture, she turned to meet his eyes with half-lidded indifference and replied simply. She flipped him off
 
Ungodly speeds and reckless abandon were enough incentive for any easily angered motorist to become hopping mad with road rage. Road rage was difficult to gauge in drivers as Callie had learned. While some would just fume and get over it, a few would actually take action. The severity of the action varied, but the level of fear in which the behavior struck in Callie was always expected. It could never be sure whether they would offer the finger and a few shouts or an almost lethal ram to the side of the vehicle. One scrap with an elderly man with anger issues years ago had been enough to instill permanent caution in Callie's heart when it came to dealing with these situations. It had taken her weeks to go through with a law suit and to fix up the scrapes that had run across her car. So of course the approaching car worried Callie, and because most everything worried her. Worrying was what she did best.

Attempts at consoling Callie were futile. Nervously she hugged her knees back towards her chest and peered out of the window. The car of interest pulled close and the man inside offered an onslaught of choice obscenities and curses that snagged on the wind and crumbled to the asphalt. Words were not caught through the small glass barrier that was the window and the lashing of the wind, but the aggression was clear and the blaring car horn was even more evident.

To this Judith just offered one finger. A finger well known by all that have managed to piss another off. Anxiously Callie wished to see how the already irate driver would react to this blatant rude dismissal.
 
The quiet in maelstrom. Cold anger, boiled and concentrated to contempt, steeled the other motorist's features. Judith hadn't only lit the fuse, she fed the fire and conflagration glittered in his eyes with frigid effulgence. To be dismissed so completely was a capital offense. He began to accelerate. Judith thought nothing of it, offered no competition, allowing him to pass. And it proved to be a mistake. Without signal or so much as a rude gesture, he swerved in front of them and slammed his breaks.

Judith didn't have time to reciprocate, she veered onto the shoulder, driving past him. The car shuddered over the rumble strips, the noise vibrating in Judith's gut as her heart kicked hard with adrenaline. Cacophony swelled to a palpable force as she was unable to bring the car back into lane, the other motorist accelerating enough to block her out. Where the fuck were the cops now?

"Fuck it." Judith yelled. "I'm taking the exit ramp." she didn't care if Callie implored otherwise, though she doubted her partner would give much cavil. Without noting the name or area in which they were going, Judith pulled right, off the highway. The irate motorist continued on without them.
 
Exploding suddenly from Callie's mouth was a loud gasp. Frantically limbs flailed until they held onto her surroundings, doing little good. In a tumult of stray curse words the sudden stop had lurched Callie forwards and almost off of her seat. Only a heel shoved roughly into the glove compartment prevented her from further advancing towards the windshield. "Fuck!"she spat in a higher nervous trill, tone laced with bewilderment and insecurity.

As they pulled off harshly Callie eased herself back into her seat and realized she was quaking like a leaf, nails gripping the armrests like claws. Each muscle twitched. If she were in a comical mood she'd have pretended to scratch violently at her wrists in being a mock drug abuser, but considering the circumstances and the fact that Judith was still far from a companion, the gesture flashed by as a mere contemplation.

Breath escaped Callie in short, frightened puffs until the initial burst of anxiety began to subside as they pulled off of the highway. As expected no refutations escaped Callie in the passenger seat.
 
The sparsely accented monotony of interstate asphalt and Dakota nature began to gradually populate with residential and commercial structures. The towers, domes, and circuitry of industrial pipes were long behind them. Like slow, purling water, they trickled into the small city's veins, cruising along its tributaries, ever deeper. Daylight was slowly fading to dusk, shadows growing long, soft as velvet, not yet dark enough to conceal iniquity. Streetlights would soon come on. Those who walked the city's tread-worn streets weren't of the good-semaritan or martinet variety. Judith found a nostalgic comfort in such surroundings, security in familiarity of congruous cityscape.

The tension in her posture began to soften with oncoming lassitude. Adrenalin subsided. Its absence proved somniferous, physically heavy. Judith didn't feel like driving, not anymore. The hours past now felt thrice their count. Between a lack of food, restless sleep, and immeasurable stress, Judith wanted a break. A sojourn wasn't made in a night, and certainly not in ill-condition. A look to Callie proved that respite could very well be in both their favor.

Wending through the grey streets, Judith broached the topic nonchalantly, never bothering to address the incident on the high-way. "So," she began, "I don't know about you, but I could use a bit of time off the road. Maybe get a drink, check to see if we're on the news and still assumed to be in Nebraska. You know, lie low for a few hours or so."
 
You'd think someone would have been trying to kill Callie. Pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf it was clear the run in with the aggravated driver had done little to remedy her already fragile state. Silently the inside of her cheek was being mauled by her prying teeth and the familiar tang of copper and remembrance of past scars in her mouth did little to negate the self destructive behavior. Legs folded up against Callie's chest in an insecure posture, hands clasped on her knees. It looked like Callie had seen some shit, and she had. Continuing to act had done little to effectively push away the weight of her deeds and the horror of her new memories. When Callie looked over at Judith she remembered the gore on that axe. Nervously her stomach did flips.

Without being very aware of it the new surroundings had managed to take some of the edge off of Callie's looming panic attack. Breathing slowly evened out even though her eyes still made her look traumatized. No mention of the recent endeavor was brought up. It simply didn't have to, the experience shared. Seeing that they needed reprieve from the open road Judith popped a suggestion. A break. Such a luxury seemed appealing. "T...tha...that s...sounds..g..g..great..."Callie managed, maintaining her folded posture.
 
Disinclined to cavil, Judith didn't expect Callie to protest, especially in her unfavorable condition. Had she actually eaten the burger purchased prior, Judith imagined they'd be at a gas station hosing vomit from the car. That wasn't an event she relished the thought of. Not because of any fetid product of regurgitation, but because of cameras. Gas stations had a surfeit of them, like spiders in every corner monitoring furtive prey. Even with vague disguises masking their more distinct features, Judith felt it best to act with circumspect. The longer they could avoid them, the better. Though she still wanted a pair of sunglasses. Perhaps she could make an exception when Callie was in better spirits.

"Keep and eye out for a place to stop." Judith commented dully, scanning the streets for an ideal place of respite. The smaller and darker, the better. Larger establishments were prone to have more security, and equally matching crowds regardless of the hour. And the seedier gloom of bars and clubs would prove auspicious compared to the florescence and formic of a diner. Difficulty was in finding them. Judith hadn't any map or sense of direction to point them in the right area, if there was even a district limited to such a scene.
 
To try to put herself and her mind to use Callie turned her head so she could gaze out the window. Scanning the street and local businesses she saw mini marts, a laundromat, and a few shops that appeared to be closing at this hour. The car lazed down the road at a much slower pace that what they had been accustomed to on the open road. Sluggishness was a nice change of pace. However such lack of mobility would begin to irk Callie. Staying in one place while the authorities were on the hunt for them added an edge to the situation, leaving them to be on alert even with the sub par disguises and the general anonymity. Again, one small slip up could land them in heaps of trouble.

Callie's eyes almost roved over the little bar. "T..there,"she said as she pointed out at a small concrete building. It was indeed a bar, shady looking as ever, with dim lighting creeping out from half shaded windows. Positioned in between a closed bakery and some vacant property the place looked tucked away. A flashing neon light marked it as open. In the dim light the name of the place wasn't taken into account, having little importance considering they had no clue here they were to begin with.
 
At Callie's observance, Judith brought the car to a slow idle alongside the sidewalk. Following the trajectory of her partner's gesture, she eyed the edifice in contemplation, measuring its breadth and bearings against the bars of her memory. It qualified as little more than a hole in the wall, a post-office refurbished to provide stout instead of stamps, liquor in place of letters. The place suited Judith just fine. "Ain't pretty on the eye, but she'll do." Judith commented, checking for traffic over her shoulder before pulling an egregiously wide u-turn, driving over the lip of the opposing sidewalk before righting the car again.

The bar and bakery shared a gravel parking lot around back encircled in chain-link fence. Six vehicles were parked, generous space between each. Judith suspected at least two were owned by employees, whatever bartender and cook they might have had on shift. The others were potentially patrons or performers. Without much choice, Judith parked deeper in, the vacant lot beyond now framed in the windshield. "After all the time we just spend on our ass, I'm sure walkin' around front won't kill us." Judith quipped killing the ignition. "Ain't hard to tell you need a drink more than me, but I'm not about to put myself behind this wheel again for another ten hours of so. I've had my fill of driving."
 
Sparse, a few other cars were parked in the lot. As they passed each car Callie couldn't help but inspect them, both to detect any clues of who was inside the ramshackle bar and also because as an auto mechanic it was a habit. Artists admired the paintings of other artists, athletes observed the prowess of other athletes, so naturally Callie was prone to examining vehicles. None were of note, save for one that had an evident puncture in one of the tires, forcing the car to favor one side as if exhausted. Its red exterior was chipped and multiple dents were scattered about its metallic hide. As Callie leaned her head up against the window she tried to imagine that car as one of the vehicles she would fix in the shop, mentally asking herself how she'd go about the procedure as an attempt to quell her anxieties. Surprisingly enough the mundane thought process of replacing a tire was enough to bring Callie's anxiety to a more manageable level. Mental breakdown postponed.

Judith's comment of them having to walk was pretty much ignored, receiving no response. Callie had no qualms with walking, her muscles most likely stiffened by misuse. "F..fine by..by me," Callie replied to Judith's other statement with a shrug. Since consuming excessive amounts of alcohol was not even a feasible prospect, driving would pose little problem. Later Callie would thank Judith for driving, even though it hadn't been for very long.

Before exiting the vehicle Callie placed the gun she had been given inside the glove compartment, deciding to keep it out of sight and not on her for now. It clattered against the kitchen knife that was also stowed away. Once outside Callie extended her arms over her head with a sigh, stretching out her tense muscles. Her arms dropped to her side and she proceeded to reach down to touch her toes, releasing the discomfort in her cramped legs. After this Callie waited for Judith to lead the way, the bar being too sketchy looking for her to wish to lead them right into its waiting doors.
 
Car-stiff and road-weary, Judith exited the vehicle on reluctant legs, joints tight as springs. The relief brought by circulation was warm and slow. Judith rested with her forearm against the car, waiting for the sensation to settle, for her body to adjust. Though reluctant to admit the limitations of her age, it was clear senescence was not conducive to long-ass road trips. With a few tentative cracks, it was time they headed in. No hour past sundown was too early for a drink.

"If shit looks suspicious, haul ass." Judith advised before cutting across the graveled lot. The revolver remained in the car, too conspicuous beneath her current attire. Should an incident occur, a blade would have to suffice. She kept one hidden in the folds of her clothes, its plastic case sticking to the heat of her skin. Outside the car, no longer in the cooling tumult of wind, the day's warmth was palpable, wending from the gravel and asphalt in waves, gentle as a ghost's caress. It clung to Judith's skin, greasy and prickling. The sensation only hastened her pace.

Circling 'round front, past the bakery and to the bar, Judith pushed through the swing door without irresolution. Low, ferrous-orange light and air, cool as an autumn evening, welcomed her. The establishment was humble in both size and furnishings. The bar along the left wall was pitted, pocked, and scarred with age. The mirrored wall behind it was dulled with dust, but the array of bottles still glitter in temptation beneath their spotlight. A door-less backroom provided a view of an even smaller kitchen. Only room to stand, an employee reclined against a sink. A deep-fryer, microwave, griddle, and freezer made fortress around him.

Across the bar, the room opened into a dimly lit cluster of tables, and along the right wall were booths, their carmine, faux-leather upholstery torn and patched, the formica tables incongruous and better suited for a diner. In the back corner was a small stage, on which stood three performers, playing to the few patrons present. A reed-thin man let whine a melancholy trumpet in a tune reminiscent of Chet Baker. In place of drums, keeping beat was a younger looking cellist, eyes closed, looking inward. And to the side stood a heavy-set black woman whose mellifluous voice, more sultry than smoke, richer than wine, gave voice to poems of loss and lust.

It was a tired place. One that lacked the resplendence and vivacity of the more club oriented scenes. But neither was it overtly masculine as bars that catered to those with a penchant for sports were. Its atmosphere was more nuanced, subtle in its tones. Languid, sleazy, and jaded. Though there were no televisions to check the news, Judith liked it just fine.

"I'm gonna snag a booth." she told Callie before motioning to the bar. "Get a couple drinks, would y'. Your mug ain't as recognizable as mine."
 
The warning that Judith had given Callie was questionable. If shit looks suspicious, haul ass. What a solid plan. There was no telling what was awaiting them in that dismal looking bar, the appearance enough giving a poor impression. Slightly sloped with age, its brick exterior a faded coppery color, the building looked like it was nearing its last few years. Callie predicted that the cramped interior would have a musty aroma, like her grandmother's house. Just with more alcohol...and drunks of course. Fortunately the bar wouldn't have an old, stain splotched sofa like the clawed one that sat stubbornly in her grandmother's house, stout and lined with frayed, floral patterned pillows.

Once inside Callie found that the bar's interior was the same as the exterior, damaged and exhausted looking. A singer accompanied with a couple of musicians amplified this feeling, their melody slow and heavy. Unconsciously Callie had moved closer to Judith as she observed the rundown bar, as if gleaning some sort of safety from the somewhat familiar woman.

There were no evident authorities and so far no one had thrown anything at them, so it exceeded her pessimistic expectations. The bar was positioned on one side and there were some shabby looking booths clustered across from it. At the bar were only two patrons, one middle aged man chatting idly to an older looking bartender over a newly poured glass of some amber alcohol, and the other was a young unshaven man slumped on the bar top, evidently asleep. Only one booth was occupied. A trio of people were seated together, two young women and a man that had cast a few wary looks at the bar's newcomers. In front of the trio on the table were plates laden with burgers and fries, all in various states of portion based on eating pace. They all had alcohol of course, although the male's unfocused eyes implied that he had consumed the most.

Judith told Callie to fetch them drinks, justifying this by claiming her mug shot was more recognizable. Says the one whose hair isn't died cherry red. Callie thought, tucking a loose strand of hair under her new headscarf as she made her way to the bar. After having arrived she scanned the alcohol in the back and the small paper menu on the bar top next to the sleeping man, wondering what she should get. Callie had no clue what Judith wanted. Probably something hard, but she could get exactly what she wanted later, assuming Judith wouldn't settle for just one alcoholic drink. So Callie politely ordered two of the only beer brand she recognized, a brew served in a bottle. It had a decent amount of hops, but wasn't enough to displease those sensitive to excessive amounts. In exchange for a few crumpled dollars from her pocket Callie was handed the two semi cold bottles, thanking the man quietly before making a hasty retreat.

Judith was spotted at one of the booths and Callie sat down, sliding over one of the bottles. Luckily the bartender had been kind enough to pop off the caps before forking over the beverages, saving them some of the hassle. Even though Callie had never really been into alcohol, she could manage a beer or two. They didn't taste half bad. Pressing the cool glass against her lips and tilting the bottle back, alcohol flowed into Callie's waiting mouth and she drank until it was half way gone, quite parched. Then she released a sigh and wiped her mouth off with her hand as politely as she was able to.
 
There were few options of seating to vacillate over. Aside from the booth pocketed in the corner, farthest from both bar and stage, every other table bore a discomforting proximity to other patrons, or worse, employees. Judith took seat against the wall, able to look out at the bar. Circumspect dictated a watchful eye, though with time and drink Judith knew she'd lose that edge. To maintain such an alert state was taxing, stressful. It was human to lower one's guard as threat diminished. But did it ever really? For a moment, Judith thought of giving Callie the advantage of viewing the bar in its entirety, but the ponderance faded upon her partner's delivery.

The beer was a ubiquitous brand, neither product of the locale or of a small business, nothing artisan, nothing gourmand. A simple beer, and Judith willingly accepted it all the same. Alcohol was alcohol. Its a effect was all she ever desired of it. The brew went down fine, cold and palatable. Judith's only complaint was of quantity. She knew before finishing that she'd want more, preferably before her body acclimated to weak proof of beer.

Judith glanced across to Callie. "Aren't you gonna eat anything?" she asked, willing to push the suggestion in order to get Callie to buy her another drink in the process. "We've still got that burger in the car, probably cold as tits by now. Imagine you'd want something a little warm to soak that beer with, no?"
 
For a while Callie was distracted by the performance. Eyes glazed with a sense of anxiety induced exhaustion, her gaze was focused on the direction of the music. Low and thick, the song reminded her of one of the one on her grandfather's records. It reminded her of siting cross legged on the carpet, fidgeting with the unfamiliar and bulky technology that was a record player. Ambling over was her grandfather, who held a sleek black record in the gentle grip of his weathered hands. Crouching down he had lifted the needle with equal delicateness, Callie's little green eyes pulled back and forth from the light brown age spots on her grandfather's wrinkled fingers and the shallow circular indentations in the record. After the record was set into place the needle returned to its original position and the device was turned on. Slowly, the record began to turn about, music swelling up into the room. Scratchy at first, and then clearer with time, slow music began to play. Although her grandfather had began to explain the origin and name of the singer and band, as a little girl Callie was far more fixated on the music and the path of the spinning record. The tone of the singing woman was just as pleasing and powerful as the one that now performed in the small bar.

Many years ago while seated on the floor plucking a few loose blue carpet fibers Callie never would have assumed she'd have remembered that singer when seated in a tiny bar far, far away from home. The memory and linking to the present time offered brief occupation of her mind before Judith engaged her again. When she thought about it, hunger had indeed crept up on her now that her adrenaline had begun to retreat. "Warm food certainly would be appreciated,"Callie answered, pulling a menu free from the clutches of a small metal stand that was perched on the table.

The laminated paper listed off the usual bar foods, burgers, wings, and the like. Although the memory of stealing that lousy McDonald's burger left her sore, the prospect of a slightly less artificial and much warmer burger was too tempting. especially after having spied the burgers and fries seated upon the other patron's table. "What about you? Do you want anything to eat now?"she asked, lifting her eyes from the menu.
 
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