(A/N Hey guys! This one is more fun. We get to see our first glimpse of the real, unfiltered, out-of-polite-society Sophia. Our finals are over so we hope to post more frequently. Thanks, as always, for reading!)
Sophia, however, was close to skipping with the amount of excitement rolling through her. For the first time in a month, Sophia felt free.
The truck came to life with a roar and she smiled, cranking up the radio, screaming at the top of her lungs to the song, Zombie by The Cranberries. The CD had been the bane of her brother's existence, but it had still survived, and refused to be ejected from the player. So, it was radio, aux, or the calling songs of Dolores O'Riordan and her crew.
Sophia threw her head back, calling with the chorus of one of her favorite songs in a mournful way, wishing her brother was at her side. Wishing the song didn't call so deeply to her heart and her memory. Wishing the story wasn't so real. Because we were fighting ourselves. Our own people are fighting against themselves, all while the real monsters hid in the shadows and prayed on our strong. Our weak. Our ignorance.
The song finished mournfully and Sophia grinned, flipping the radio stations absently. When all that played was perfect static, Sophia pulled out her touchscreen phone that she mostly only used for two things. Keeping in touch with Bobby, and music. She plugged her phone in, clicked on pandora and rolled down the windows, grinning into the window. After a month of research and quiet, calm conversation, music was a relief.
And then, the first words of the song crackled to life over her stereo system, which had been, when purchased, a little over her and her brother's budget.
But it was so worth it.
Full voiced and a tad pitchy, but still on tune, Sophia began to laugh out the lyrics to one of her favorite classics in pure bliss.
One, two, three o'clock, four o'clock, rock
Five, six, seven o'clock, eight o'clock, rock
Nine, ten, eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, rock
We're gonna rock around the clock tonight
Sophia giggled, not caring how childish she may sound as her voice cracked and popped under the strain of singing full voiced and fighting the wind pushing against her. She ignored the strands of hair that flew into her mouth and over he eyes, simply calling out the words to the music with gusto and mirth.
The back truck window vibrated as the bass roared and she plowed down the road, ignoring the speed limits and slowing down only when her police scanner gave a ding of warning. Sophia may have a reckless spirit, but she wasn't stupid. This way an 11 hour drive could go by in near half the time. And the movie, Taxi, had given her a couple of ideas on how to inconspicuously change her plates. Queen Latifah was her idol from that movie. At least, her taxi was.
As the time ticked by, the eleven hours to Indiana became more like an eight and a half as Sophia gunned the engine of her truck, which some would call a sleeper and others would call a menace. The sun was rising to its full potential before she pulled off the road for the first time, humming the tune to "Earth Angel" under her breath. She locked the doors to her well loved, red interiored chevy truck, and walked into the gas station. She snatched up a bundle of bananas, saltine crackers, a small jar of peanut butter, and a pack of water. As she was walking through the aisles with her arms full, her eyes caught on the box of lucky charms standing proudly next to a box filled with honey buns. Without a second thought, she snagged up the two and pushed towards the counter of the near empty gas station. The cashier rang her up with a bored expression, her eyes heavy and tone snarky and sharp as she spoke, as if she was asking for a fight. "Is that all you want?"
Sophia took a deep breath, biting her tongue to keep from listing the things this woman could shove up her *ss. Bobby said she needed to be working on her anger management skills.
Her tone was a tad too sharp, though, as she pulled out a hundred dollar bill and growled, "Yeah, that's all I want. Put the rest of it on pump five, yeah?"
The woman quirked an eyebrow, then, in a snarky voice, said, "Yeah."
Sophia rolled her eyes, snagging up her catch and her receipt. She didn't offer a thanks, just pulled her haul passed the swinging doors and to her truck across the parking lot, still humming the chorus to "Earth Angel" as she pushed her stuff into the cab of her truck and then pumped the first tank full of gas. Sophia tapped her foot in agitation as the pump filled her truck. She snacked on a banana absently, watching the meter on the pump flick up to fifty dollars, before she pulled the pump free and filled up the secondary tank. She tossed the banana peel onto the ground, near the trash can, glaring at the woman at the front desk who narrowed her eyes. The pump quit with a soft hiss, and Sophia put on the final cap.
Lifting her hand in a single, middle fingered salute, Sophia gave a churlish grin and hopped into her truck, and burning rubber out of the parking lot and cranking up the speakers as another oldie played in the background. "Jump in the Line" roared to life over the speakers and Sophia screamed with it, shifting gears and roaring down the road, only slowing down when her police scanner gave warning.
"La Bamba" was playing at full volume from her speakers when she rounded on the road, her large truck groaning slightly as it took the turn.
Slamming on her breaks, Sophia yelped, "Oh, sh*t" sharply, staring wide eyed at the tall, shaggy haired man who stood in the middle of her lane. He had a hand pressed on her hood, and he looked a mix between angry at the world, and hopeful for a ride. His other hand was wrapped around the strap of a portfolio sort of bag and he was sporting a rather warm coat.
Yo no soy marinero
Yo no soy marinero, soy capitan
Soy capitan, soy capitan
Bamba, bamba
Bamba, bamba
Bamba, bamba, bam
Sophia grinned, humming the tune as she slowly turned down the radio, quirking an eyebrow at the tall man, who had to stoop to look into her window. She gave him a half genuine grin. "You know, walking in the middle of the road may well be a death sentence."
The man huffed in humor. "Yeah, well…."
She was reminded for a moment of her brother, and she softened. "Where ya headed?"
"California. You?" He pulled back, looking more hopeful.
Sophia shook her head in ruefulness. "Ah. Sorry. Going the opposite direction."
He nodded, "I figured." It was then, though, that a thought flashed over his expression. "You don't happen to be passing through Burkittsville, do you?"
Suspicion filled Sophia to the brim. And being the paranoid person she was, she lied by habit. "No? Why?"
He seemed awfully relieved, nodding shortly. "Nothing. Nothing. Don't worry about it."
Shrugging, Sophia cranked up the radio, quirking an eyebrow when the large man didn't back off her truck. He laughed, raising his hands and lifting his hands as if in surrender. "Alright, alright! Stay safe!" He shouted over the radio, laughing softly. "You're just like my brother."
With a lazy wave, Sophia struck the truck into gear and spun the tires, filling the air with white smoke, laughing sharply as she tore down the road, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" playing at full volume.
She'd need tires soon if she didn't stop driving like a maniac, but the look on his face in her rearview mirror had her laughing. "Worth it."
Gunning it down the road, Sophia saw a black Impala. A hard top, with the windows down, running rather slowly. Sophia glanced down at the speedometer, then laughed again. Or, he was running the speed limit, and she was going 40 miles over. But with the straight, flat ground of Indiana, how could she not speed.
Now, don't go thinking she was a menace. Sophia was careful. She'd slow down when others pulled onto the road. She never took towns at full speed, putted through parking lots, and was extremely watchful. She had her fair share of races just for the heck of it, and didn't mind having a few extra dollars in the bank. So imagining the muscle car, slick and black, falling back as if still was just too much, and Sophia couldn't help herself. Watching carefully, Sophia flung her truck into the opposing lane, roaring passed the impala, laughing to the words of "Splish Splash", her tires kicking of a soft spray from the wet road as she changed back into her lane. She could see the man throwing up a hand, and felt rather sure that he had just flipped her off. Today was going to be a good day.
Passing the "Welcome Burkittsville" sign, Sophia turned down the roaring music, slowing tremendously, looking over the too clean streets and the well washed windows. There was no movement. And, more importantly, it was the first town she had seen for miles. The dried, scorched grass had turned green, the orchards tall and proud over the flat land. This place was most definitely blessed… cursed.