2/2 The Long Ride Home
July 17 - Chugwater:
It was a fucking chili festival. What do you expect.
July 21 - Cheyenne:
We started walking back to Cheyenne to catch our freight home. When we made it to the freight yard, we hopped onto our car and headed home. I think this might be the last family trip in a long time, they did not conduct themselves in a manner befitting a chili festival.
July 22 - ?:
Somewhere on our way of Cheyenne, the train came to a slow stop and remained stopped. I didn't hear anything on it for the rest of the day. The kids said they couldn't tell what was going on either.
July 23? - ?:
Still no word on why we stopped. The kids didn't seem terribly concerned, but the other passengers and I pounded on the walls of the boxcar trying to get someone to hear us. No one did.
July - ?:
I'm not sure how long I slept, but it was dark when I woke up. A hole was punched in the top of the boxcar, but the kids declined to further destroy the car. I guess they suddenly grew a sense of respect for public property.
July - ?:
We all exchanged names today. I thought there were more people, but it was just me, Jesus, Cerrito, and a guy who would only call himself Pig Butler. I think they designated the front left hand corner as the shitter, because it's wet and it stinks. I don't know much Spanish, but Jesus and Cerrito entertained themselves. Pig Butler has been riding the rails for about 25 years, and he told me that we should be out of here pretty soon. The longest he has ever been locked in a boxcar was a week and a half. He survived by drinking his own piss. They actually passed a law based on him, called Pig Butler's Law. Every 4 days, someone is supposed to go to each boxcar and check to see if there are any people trapped inside.
July - ?:
No one came by to check for people, so I guess it hasn't been 4 days. Pig Butler didn't seem worried, at any rate. I shared the chili I brought with me, and while it was light out, Pig Butler showed me the hobo symbols for "jail" and "free telephone."
July - ?:
Cerrito has disappeared while I was asleep. There was blood EVERYWHERE. I asked the kids what the hell happened, if they saw or heard anything during the night, but they said they didn't know. There was a lot of blood around the hole in the top of the boxcar, too. I am pretty sure Jesus saw what happened. He wouldn't make eye contact with anyone, he just huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth.
July - ?:
Jesus spoke today. He paused his rocking long enough to stare directly at me, completely freaking me out, to say, "El monstruo de quatro cuellos." for about a minute straight. He started shaking, and then he passed out. Like I said, I don't know Spanish. But I do watch Sesame Street stoned a lot, so I know how to count in Spanish. I am starting to suspect the kids are involved.
July?:
Pig Butler disappeared. The kids refused to tell me where he went. I am 100% certain that they did something to Pig Butler and Cerrito. I don't know if they forced them through the hole in top, I don't know if they dismembered them, I just. I don't know.
July?:
The chili ran out, and even Jesus stopped rocking and crying long enough to point at his mouth (international sign for either "hungry" or "blowjob" and I am pretty sure he wasn't asking if he could blow me) and cock an eyebrow up. I just shrugged. The kids remain unconcerned. They've resisted all attempts to access the GPS system, the date, the time, everything. They are having a fabulous time.
July?:
The kids fed me something wet and chewy and warm, it was warm and the wetness left sticky streaks all over me and I can't find Jesus, I ate Jesus. I consumed the body of the lord.
July?:
I Consumed the LordJesusChrist hail mary full of grace the LORD is with THEE. blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit oh god and orange would be nice of thy womb jesus i ate him holy mary i ate him mary forgive me mother of GOD LORD pray for us sinners now and at the hour of JESUS DIED SO I COULD LIVE amen.
July?:
The kids had been talking to me all day, they even pushed me up so I could look out the hole in the roof of the boxcar. The sky is so blue. The sky was all I saw, though. They convinced me that it was okay for me to eat the meat they gave me. They told me to keep thinking of it as meat. They said in some cultures that the consumption of others is a religious rite of passage or something, I think they might be regurgitating shit they saw on the Discovery Channel. But whatever. I need anything I can get.
July?:
I've been hallucinating the smell of fast food. I'll wake up and think I smell a McNugget, or I'll lick my finger and think I tasted a milkshake.
Summer?:
It's getting worse. I keep imagining McDonald's wrappers on the walls of the boxcar, or I'll think I'm seeing Larry playing with a matchbox car, or breaking a miniature Barbie doll to make Mo cry. The smells are stronger, I can actually identify menu items from the smells I am imagining. It's getting dangerous to drink my own urine, but Jesus' blood that the kids saved in vials and kept in their compartments is not much better. I'll have to drink it eventually though; my urine is super concentrated.
Summer?:
I hallucinate that I'm eating tons and tons of burgers, and that I'm rolling on piles of delicious fries like Scrooge McDuck in a pile of money. He would crush his skull if he dove into all those coins. No lie. Whenever I'm awake I hallucinate that the kids are bringing me Happy Meals like I am a king and they my servants. Whenever I sleep, I dream of eating.
Summer?:
Whenever I got picked on for being fat as a kid my mom would comfort me by telling me I just like a little camel. They don't store water in their humps, they store fat. She said at least I'd never be hungry. In a way she's right. I don't even feel hunger anymore, though I don't seem to be losing any weight. In fact, I think I'm getting bigger. When I was trying to be anorexic in college, I read something about how when people starve themselves, the body actually retains everything it can, so maybe this is it? My body holding onto everything it can? I am mother's little camel.
Summer?:
There's this old trick where you cut the butter that the Land O' Lakes girl is holding and you fold the box so her knees are showing through the window you cut out, I don't have it here but I can remember, I remember all the times I'd steal the butter box from the refrigerator and mother would say Now Otto are you working on another science project and I'd say Yes ma'am I need the boxes and really, we all knew what I was up to but it's polite when you pretend not to know things you shouldn't know, not that Rosie'd ever have that kind of politeness. She said politeness is for the first date and not for married couples so whenever she found the boxes she'd lift her skirt and say WHAT THE HELL OTTO YOU HAVE THIS and I'd say SOMETIMES A MAN JUST WANTS HIS BUTTERY TITS and she'd laugh and we'd make love and she'd say CALL ME YOUR SQUAW and I'd say that the Indians don't like it when you call them that and she'd say shut up you're ruining it and I'd shut up but then I'd whisper squaw and she'd laugh and the way her whole body got tight when she laughed, right under my hands, it was like feeling a hammer covered in warm skin. She was very fit. She was not like a camel, Rosie was like a chimp, all small but strong and powerful, you wouldn't know it by looking at her. When we finished we'd go to sleep and I'd remember the butter girl. The butter girl and the headless asses. The news can't show a fat person and go HEY SHE'S FAT so they do that sneaky little thing where you don't film a fat person's face just the waist down. I always watched for myself in there, always a roving pack of fat asses walking down a busy street so I imagine they'd have to film the asses in a big city like mine. The way they sway under their own weight was hypnotic and if I knew there was a thing on the news about obesity I'd tape it or at least pay extra special attention when it was on, though I don't think Rosie caught on, she just thought I was taking an interest in my weight problem. I took an interest.
Summer?:
The camel survives for an unknown length of time.
Summer?:
The camel does not give in not ever.
Summer?:
Camcamcamcamcamcam
Summer?:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Summer?:
Tell me tell me how does an empty well give water?
Summer?:
How does a starving man vomit?
Summer?:
How does a starving man vomit McNuggets? YOU GUYS!
Summer?:
Men came today, when he opened the door a flood of light entered that was so bright I couldn't see for a while. I heard cows. They set up the ramp to get the cows on before they realized I was there, and then they all came and saw what was in the boxcar. It was full of blood and human waste and tons of McDonald's wrappers. The kids were either so excited to see someone new or they were infuriated that people had come to ruin the experiment they were conducting on me that they began to flail wildly around the car, smashing the walls and ripping down the roof with their manazing strength. When they were done, I was bathed in pure light and I smelled fresh air for the first time in... a long time.
Summer?:
It is small, it is pink, it has a basket and a bell. It has purple tassels. It is my new bike. The kids visited McDonald's so much that they acquired jobs (except for Mo, she is too young) and earned a wage. After stuffing me with salty McDonald's food for months, I had gained quite a bit of weight. At any rate, they insisted that I work off my weight by riding us home. Mo wants to ride in the basket.
Summer?:
We threw the bike through the window at Toys 'R' Us and stole a Power Wheels.
Summer?:
After three weeks and an incredible amount of stolen batteries, the Barbie Dreamcar shuddered to a halt just outside the city limits. The kids got some exercise by dragging us back to our pier.
It was a fucking chili festival. What do you expect.
July 21 - Cheyenne:
We started walking back to Cheyenne to catch our freight home. When we made it to the freight yard, we hopped onto our car and headed home. I think this might be the last family trip in a long time, they did not conduct themselves in a manner befitting a chili festival.
July 22 - ?:
Somewhere on our way of Cheyenne, the train came to a slow stop and remained stopped. I didn't hear anything on it for the rest of the day. The kids said they couldn't tell what was going on either.
July 23? - ?:
Still no word on why we stopped. The kids didn't seem terribly concerned, but the other passengers and I pounded on the walls of the boxcar trying to get someone to hear us. No one did.
July - ?:
I'm not sure how long I slept, but it was dark when I woke up. A hole was punched in the top of the boxcar, but the kids declined to further destroy the car. I guess they suddenly grew a sense of respect for public property.
July - ?:
We all exchanged names today. I thought there were more people, but it was just me, Jesus, Cerrito, and a guy who would only call himself Pig Butler. I think they designated the front left hand corner as the shitter, because it's wet and it stinks. I don't know much Spanish, but Jesus and Cerrito entertained themselves. Pig Butler has been riding the rails for about 25 years, and he told me that we should be out of here pretty soon. The longest he has ever been locked in a boxcar was a week and a half. He survived by drinking his own piss. They actually passed a law based on him, called Pig Butler's Law. Every 4 days, someone is supposed to go to each boxcar and check to see if there are any people trapped inside.
July - ?:
No one came by to check for people, so I guess it hasn't been 4 days. Pig Butler didn't seem worried, at any rate. I shared the chili I brought with me, and while it was light out, Pig Butler showed me the hobo symbols for "jail" and "free telephone."
July - ?:
Cerrito has disappeared while I was asleep. There was blood EVERYWHERE. I asked the kids what the hell happened, if they saw or heard anything during the night, but they said they didn't know. There was a lot of blood around the hole in the top of the boxcar, too. I am pretty sure Jesus saw what happened. He wouldn't make eye contact with anyone, he just huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth.
July - ?:
Jesus spoke today. He paused his rocking long enough to stare directly at me, completely freaking me out, to say, "El monstruo de quatro cuellos." for about a minute straight. He started shaking, and then he passed out. Like I said, I don't know Spanish. But I do watch Sesame Street stoned a lot, so I know how to count in Spanish. I am starting to suspect the kids are involved.
July?:
Pig Butler disappeared. The kids refused to tell me where he went. I am 100% certain that they did something to Pig Butler and Cerrito. I don't know if they forced them through the hole in top, I don't know if they dismembered them, I just. I don't know.
July?:
The chili ran out, and even Jesus stopped rocking and crying long enough to point at his mouth (international sign for either "hungry" or "blowjob" and I am pretty sure he wasn't asking if he could blow me) and cock an eyebrow up. I just shrugged. The kids remain unconcerned. They've resisted all attempts to access the GPS system, the date, the time, everything. They are having a fabulous time.
July?:
The kids fed me something wet and chewy and warm, it was warm and the wetness left sticky streaks all over me and I can't find Jesus, I ate Jesus. I consumed the body of the lord.
July?:
I Consumed the LordJesusChrist hail mary full of grace the LORD is with THEE. blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit oh god and orange would be nice of thy womb jesus i ate him holy mary i ate him mary forgive me mother of GOD LORD pray for us sinners now and at the hour of JESUS DIED SO I COULD LIVE amen.
July?:
The kids had been talking to me all day, they even pushed me up so I could look out the hole in the roof of the boxcar. The sky is so blue. The sky was all I saw, though. They convinced me that it was okay for me to eat the meat they gave me. They told me to keep thinking of it as meat. They said in some cultures that the consumption of others is a religious rite of passage or something, I think they might be regurgitating shit they saw on the Discovery Channel. But whatever. I need anything I can get.
July?:
I've been hallucinating the smell of fast food. I'll wake up and think I smell a McNugget, or I'll lick my finger and think I tasted a milkshake.
Summer?:
It's getting worse. I keep imagining McDonald's wrappers on the walls of the boxcar, or I'll think I'm seeing Larry playing with a matchbox car, or breaking a miniature Barbie doll to make Mo cry. The smells are stronger, I can actually identify menu items from the smells I am imagining. It's getting dangerous to drink my own urine, but Jesus' blood that the kids saved in vials and kept in their compartments is not much better. I'll have to drink it eventually though; my urine is super concentrated.
Summer?:
I hallucinate that I'm eating tons and tons of burgers, and that I'm rolling on piles of delicious fries like Scrooge McDuck in a pile of money. He would crush his skull if he dove into all those coins. No lie. Whenever I'm awake I hallucinate that the kids are bringing me Happy Meals like I am a king and they my servants. Whenever I sleep, I dream of eating.
Summer?:
Whenever I got picked on for being fat as a kid my mom would comfort me by telling me I just like a little camel. They don't store water in their humps, they store fat. She said at least I'd never be hungry. In a way she's right. I don't even feel hunger anymore, though I don't seem to be losing any weight. In fact, I think I'm getting bigger. When I was trying to be anorexic in college, I read something about how when people starve themselves, the body actually retains everything it can, so maybe this is it? My body holding onto everything it can? I am mother's little camel.
Summer?:
There's this old trick where you cut the butter that the Land O' Lakes girl is holding and you fold the box so her knees are showing through the window you cut out, I don't have it here but I can remember, I remember all the times I'd steal the butter box from the refrigerator and mother would say Now Otto are you working on another science project and I'd say Yes ma'am I need the boxes and really, we all knew what I was up to but it's polite when you pretend not to know things you shouldn't know, not that Rosie'd ever have that kind of politeness. She said politeness is for the first date and not for married couples so whenever she found the boxes she'd lift her skirt and say WHAT THE HELL OTTO YOU HAVE THIS and I'd say SOMETIMES A MAN JUST WANTS HIS BUTTERY TITS and she'd laugh and we'd make love and she'd say CALL ME YOUR SQUAW and I'd say that the Indians don't like it when you call them that and she'd say shut up you're ruining it and I'd shut up but then I'd whisper squaw and she'd laugh and the way her whole body got tight when she laughed, right under my hands, it was like feeling a hammer covered in warm skin. She was very fit. She was not like a camel, Rosie was like a chimp, all small but strong and powerful, you wouldn't know it by looking at her. When we finished we'd go to sleep and I'd remember the butter girl. The butter girl and the headless asses. The news can't show a fat person and go HEY SHE'S FAT so they do that sneaky little thing where you don't film a fat person's face just the waist down. I always watched for myself in there, always a roving pack of fat asses walking down a busy street so I imagine they'd have to film the asses in a big city like mine. The way they sway under their own weight was hypnotic and if I knew there was a thing on the news about obesity I'd tape it or at least pay extra special attention when it was on, though I don't think Rosie caught on, she just thought I was taking an interest in my weight problem. I took an interest.
Summer?:
The camel survives for an unknown length of time.
Summer?:
The camel does not give in not ever.
Summer?:
Camcamcamcamcamcam
Summer?:
MMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Summer?:
Tell me tell me how does an empty well give water?
Summer?:
How does a starving man vomit?
Summer?:
How does a starving man vomit McNuggets? YOU GUYS!
Summer?:
Men came today, when he opened the door a flood of light entered that was so bright I couldn't see for a while. I heard cows. They set up the ramp to get the cows on before they realized I was there, and then they all came and saw what was in the boxcar. It was full of blood and human waste and tons of McDonald's wrappers. The kids were either so excited to see someone new or they were infuriated that people had come to ruin the experiment they were conducting on me that they began to flail wildly around the car, smashing the walls and ripping down the roof with their manazing strength. When they were done, I was bathed in pure light and I smelled fresh air for the first time in... a long time.
Summer?:
It is small, it is pink, it has a basket and a bell. It has purple tassels. It is my new bike. The kids visited McDonald's so much that they acquired jobs (except for Mo, she is too young) and earned a wage. After stuffing me with salty McDonald's food for months, I had gained quite a bit of weight. At any rate, they insisted that I work off my weight by riding us home. Mo wants to ride in the basket.
Summer?:
We threw the bike through the window at Toys 'R' Us and stole a Power Wheels.
Summer?:
After three weeks and an incredible amount of stolen batteries, the Barbie Dreamcar shuddered to a halt just outside the city limits. The kids got some exercise by dragging us back to our pier.