It's already night when I arrived in Detroit. I don't know how dangerous the city is at day, so I have no idea if it's any better or worse during the night. The highway into the city alone, of which I happen to have seen it's number, I-75, appeared dreadful. I don't know what it was, I mean the surrounding area looked nice, especially under the moonlight, however little. Still, I don't know what it was that made it feel so weird. Was it the black birds I saw flying over our heads? This is strange, as I usually have no fear for birds. I'm not sure if it was fear either. I can't figure it out, but since my driver didn't feel anything, I didn't think there was any real reason for concern.
Once I was dropped off, my ride returned to Ontario. Didn't think crossing the border would be that easy. My guess is that we didn't look like we were tourists staying for a while. If we were, we'd be more loaded up than just my bag, which was hidden out of plain sight.
They say that some cities look better during the night. And they're right. Especially when it comes to Detroit, as during the night you can't see the mess that the locals are making of it. It already started when I passed by a theatre, of some sorts, where lots of people were gathered for this concert. A concert brought to us by none other than B-Rabbit. If I were much of an R'nB fan, I'd be excited over this, but I'm not. Okay, B-Rabbit is quite original for the genre, but still... Anyway, the concert in question appeared to be getting out of hand, as people were starting to shout some upset words. Some news-reporters who were at the scene told the people watching the news that this sudden outburst is because the concert should've started an hour ago, but B-Rabbit hasn't arrived yet, therefor the concert couldn't start. That's what they're making their fuss about? Then again, I don't really blame them for being angry, I mean if a man like that would let down his fans like this, I'm surprised he even still has fans at all.
A little further away, I was surrounded by a motorcycling gang, each of them wielding some kind of weapon, like a bat or some chains. I don't know why of all people they had to pick me, but I was lucky to get out of there alive. That is, I was lucky that this guy in... a colorful outfit appeared. I'm not kidding. A car stopped by. A masked blond guy, hardly any taller than any of the motorcyclists, dressed in a red and green suit, wearing a yellow and black cape, he stepped out of the car, trying to stop them. The cyclists stopped driving, alright, but not having... well, what you could call fun. They even laughed when that masked guy said his name: Rapboy. A gunshot, at last, stopped all the fuss. It came from a black guy, who judging from his vest was a fan of the local football-team. This guy, however, unlike those back in Miami who could say fifty words per second, was twice as fast. I don't know what he was saying exactly, but from what I understand, either he's a retired or off-duty cop, but in any case he wanted to enjoy a good night-rest, which "we" are making impossible. This started a fight between the bikers, that cop and Rapboy, in which the driver of his car had to meddle as well. I thought I should get out of there as fast as possible, but as I ran into the street, I was nearly hit by another car. This time, it actually did belong to a cop. This cop, however wasn't your usual one. When I first saw him, I thought he was just wearing a metallic armor, but when I saw him moving, or even heard the mechanical sounds he made with every move he made... I don't know how this'll sound, but I'm pretty much convinced that this guy was a machine. In his right thigh, he kept a gun hidden, which he immediately used on the other people. Doing so, not only injured the cyclists, it also caused that black guy I mentioned to scold the machine-man. Saying how he, as a cop is supposed to be keeping the peace, but all that this machine-man could say was that the black man should not intervene with police-affairs. Obviously he didn't know this other man was a cop too. One policeman scolding the other about how they do or do not go by the book. In any case, I took this to my advantage to get away. Rapboy seemed to have decided to do the same, as he... bounced into his car, while his driver merely sighed upon seeing him act like that.
By the way, I passed by that theatre again later that night, and B-Rabbit had arrived on the stage by then. So Rapboy disappears and B-Rabbit is suddenly present. I wonder...
Anyway, near there, I found someone who could drive me away from Detroit. It was a truck-driver, who has something to pick up in Cleveland, something to deliver in some place I don't know. I think he said Springfield, or at least it was something with "Spring" in it, I'm not sure. But in any case, he'd then deliver the cargo from Cleveland somewhere in Indiana, where he expects to arrive in the morning. It's not the best way to get to Illinois, but I suppose it should do. Besides, after having spend some time in a book, searching for one before that, than being driven into Detroit, Michigan, all the way from somewhere in Ontario, and of course having had my little run-in with the locals... this could tire people out a little. I really feel I should sleep.
It's not that easy, as this truck-driver seems to like hearing the sound of his own voice, as he kept talking over his radio, telling people what a Jack Burton would do. From what I gather of what he's saying, I'm guessing he's Burton, who also has a liking of speaking about himself in the third person. I hope there will be an end to his chatter soon, so I can sleep a little.
Sunday, July 13th 2008:
It's 2am, but right now I'm afraid of falling asleep. At some point during our drive, I did manage to fall asleep. But then I had this weird dream. In that dream, the truck stopped driving and Burton was a life-less skeleton. Despite that, I somehow knew that I wasn't alone. I remember to hear some kind of screeching sound, so I got out of the truck to see what was causing that. And standing there, was a man, with his face scarred of burns, wearing one glove with knives on each finger, snickering away. I don't know who he was, or what he was up to, but luckily Burton saw me panicking in my sleep so he woke me up. We have already arrived in Springwood. Or rather close to it, as I could still see the sign that read "Welcome to Springwood". Oh well, at least now I know for sure it wasn't Springfield he was headed to.
My only hope is that when and if I fall asleep later tonight, that I won't see that guy again. It wouldn't be the first time I started dreaming the one dream one night, and dream it again that same night.