I don't own anything Supernatural wise... And I never will. I pulled the title from a Lynyrd Skynyrd song that was covered by Jensen Ackles and Jason Manns... Without further ado, enjoy *sweeps arms dramatically*
January 3, 2008, Leaving Home, Forever
I went and packed all of my belongings into my 1967 Chevrolet Impala, Baby, or Beast as I like to call her. She is not to be confused with Baby from Supernatural, although we do love that show, but I got her from my father and he got her as his first car from a used car dealership in Winchester, CO in 1972. I know, it's ironic, so shut up! Her and I live on the outskirts of Bohma, CA, Bohma is on the northern end of LA County next to some mountains that rarely see snow in winter. But now? Baby and I are packing up everything we own and going on an extended road trip around the USA. The only things left to grab was my large collection of classic rock. At 11:11 we were rolling down our hill for the last time in a long while.
Now, there are a few things you (the reader) should know about Baby, since I won't be around forever, but knowing her? She just might. Baby is not a normal 1967 Chevrolet Impala, she is really a sentient being from the planet of Callisto, she can transform into a dragon-like creature (though she doesn't usually want to, she prefers the Impala form, but she can if she has to), her real name isn't Baby, it's really Tasian, but call her that and die a horrible, slow death. She can talk, she doesn't always unless it's with people she trusts, she can sing REALLY well, especially the classics we both like, but if you get her talking she is a chatter box.
Often, before I got a Bluetooth ear piece, I was the 'crazy one' for talking to my car in the middle of the parking lot. Her and I are like two peas in a pod and we HAVE and WILL kill for each other.
Anyway, it was almost noon by the time we managed to get through the center of town and onto the freeway. Right now we had the radio tuned to 95.5 fm, a classic rock station that we listened to a lot, and at this moment in time it was playing Wheel in the Sky by Journey. It was fitting. Goodbye to Bohma and hello open roads of USA. I saw a sign coming up; it said Bishop 20, and at the speed we were going we would be there in ten minutes. I looked down at the radio, which was now playing Journey's Greatest Hits, knowing Baby might be a little hungry.
"Hey, Baby, what do you say about stopping at June Lake? We would be able to fish there."
It's not like we had to be somewhere by anytime, so who cares if we stop for a day or two to just fool around? A snort came from the speakers,
"Sure, why not? Not like we have anywhere to be." Her words echoed mine unknowingly and I loved that about us. We were so attuned with each other we both echo what the other is thinking. She turned into June Lake Junction when we came up on it. Around five miles in we came up on June Lake Loop and one mile up that we encountered the kiosk leading into the campground. We got through it and started looking for a campsite to set up shop in. We finally found a campsite: #54, Baby turned around and backed in. Around us were large boulders, some as big as Baby in her base form, some were only just big enough to be called boulders but still climbable.
Three days and 20 fish later (I only caught three, Baby swam out into the lake and caught the rest, scaring multiple fishermen in the process) we packed up and left the area and started heading east. Less than five hours later we were in Nevada, courtesy of Baby's blatant speeding, rounding the bend into a Native American reservation near a place called Pyramid Lake. After there we got onto old highway 30 and started northwards back into California. That night we got back into Cali and spent the night on the side of the road next to a clump of large Aspen trees.
That morning at 5:30 (I wasn't awake at the time, I woke up around 10, Baby told me that's what time she started driving) we started on the road again and around 11 we drove into the small town of Fort Bidwell, but it turned out to be a bust, since the Fort ruins were closed. Moving on we came to a fork in the road leading out of the town; one led up a dirt road and the other was paved. Even though the road wasn't paved it was the County road, so we both just kinda went 'whatever, it's not like we can't get through or over any obstacles' and started up the road. On the way up I saw a weird looking pine tree, it was more like a tree with fern leaves than an actual pine tree, like the tree next to it, which had the classic single pine needles on its branches.
Stopping Baby, I climbed out of the drivers side and pulled a piece off of each tree. Putting the two different types of needles into Baby's glove box, we continued on until we reached a mud puddle, where Baby's back tires got stuck. I groaned when she tried to accelerate out of it but the only thing that happened was her tires spinning and sticky barf colored mud and black ice being splashed up onto the flanks of the Impala. Baby growled and I got out so she could shift and walk out of the mud. After she got out, she shifted back and we were on our way. About five miles later there was a lake… One that was empty of people… Baby slowed to a crawl of two mph and that's when I shoved the door open and bailed, running full tilt for the small pristine alpine lake.
Baby yelped, jerking to a stop at my sudden movements, shifting quickly and running after me. She was too late though. I had already jumped into the small lake. Seeing that I was soaking but fine, Baby glared at me for all of three seconds before she jumped in herself and swiped a large black across the water, splashing me. Grinning up at her, I splashed her back and dove under the water to dodge the returning wall of liquid. Four hours later we were both crawling out of the lake, all of our energy spent, but even then, every time we glanced at each other we would break down laughing again.
The sound of sucking wind and the sight of sticks moving across the ground caught our attention and we both sobered very quickly; our curiosity was piqued. We looked at each other and crept around the corner cautiously, Baby moved quieter than what you would think all 20 feet of her could. She and I looked around the corner to see a glowing, swirly, greenish- blue, streaked with reds and oranges spiral opening about twenty feet away in the middle of the road. Never have I ever been so happy that there were no people around to see this.
Baby shifted back into her Impala form and popped open her driver's side door in invitation and I slid in, giving her a nod as I pulled the door closed. She started her engine and rolled forward into the Portal (that's what I'm gonna call it from now on) and for the nest ten seconds, all I saw was a bright white light surrounding Baby. Now, I know what you're thinking: who in their right mind would ever randomly go into a swirly portal thing when they don't know what it is or what it does or where it leads? Well, at this point in our lives we could care less. Baby is always being hunted here by her kind, and by extension, so am I. By going into the Portal, we might be able to start over without having to look over our shoulders periodically. At least…. I hope we can, anyway….