Going to Pasalacqua

We were one day closer to Minnesota. We'd each taken driving shifts and were now close to three hours away. 

I yawned once more and pulled over the van. I'd been driving for a solid seven hours. Tré was awake in the passengers seat. It was pitch black out and he peered out the window like there was something great to be seen out there.

“Hey Tré, want to trade off?” I whispered, trying not to wake Mike who was snoring in the backseat. He'd already driven most of the way, so I figured me and Tré could handle the rest of the journey. 

He looked over at me, his blue eyes glowing in the light from the dashboard. He nodded once “Sure.” he pushed open his door and hopped out, I did the same. The sky was clear, dark, indigo blue. Dotted with millions of silver speckles. The moon lit the open road. All done in miles of cracked pavement. It crunched under my converse as I walked around the front of the van, hopping into Tré's seat and shutting the door as quietly as I could manage. 

“Thanks.” I whispered, leaning my head against the cool glass, trying to see what Tré saw out there that was so fascinating. All I saw was the shadows hanging from the gloomy trees surrounding the road. I glanced over to see him nod and crack a small smile before starting the engine again and taking off. 

His grin grew as the needle raced up the gage. 

“Whoa, Tré what the hell are you doing?” I hissed over the engine.

He smirked knowingly at me. “Remember how Mike said it'd be another day?”

I nodded.

“Ol Tré with get you there by eight tomorrow morning. Or my name isn't Tré.” he beamed.

“It's not!” I hissed “It's Frank!” he rolled his eyes “You're gonna kill us before we even get there.” I mumbled. Crossing my arms tightly. I'd much rather live to see Adeline again.

“You're just jealous 'cause you ain't got the balls to go this fast.” he grinned and peered over the steering wheel as we raced down the road.

I took a deep breath, prepared to retort: but I let it out in a long frustrated sigh and propped my head against the glass instead. Closing my eyes.

Adeline's Point of View
The Previous Day
5:32

Two hours, quickly disintegrated into less than five minutes. We passed over the Minnesota border a half hour ago and I couldn't bring myself to speak. Like my mouth was glued shut, I couldn't protest, try to escape or anything. I was trapped. Being forced to face my end. My death and coming demise. 

I pulled my knees up to my chest the rest of the drive, until Jack turned off onto another paved road. It was marked Minnesota State Park I tried to see between the webbed branches of pine trees whipping past the car. I saw a few silver flickers of a lake on the other side. We were driving through a campground. I couldn't imagine why, but I saw my opportunity and took it. 

I rolled over with my wrists still bound and pounded on the glass as we passed some people walking.

“Help me!” I screamed, pounding the glass.

Jack glared at me in the mirror and sped up, turning up the radio as I punched at the glass until my knuckles stung and were bleeding. Tears streaked my dirt stained cheeks as I hopelessly pounded. The car veered off onto a trail that went around the lake and I disappeared from everyone's lane of sight. I wouldn't be saved. But that's not saying I won't be punished for attempting to escape. I peeked up at Jack's expression. 

Remember the other day when I said I'd never seen him so mad? It's been topped. Above and beyond. He could have just killed me with his eyes. Right there, the bright blue irises met mine with the coldest glare ever. He stepped on the gas until he pulled off onto a rest area. 

“Do you think you're so smart Adeline!?, trying to escape me? You will never escape me.” 

He hopped out of the car and killed the engine. Prying open my door he wrapped his hands around my throat. 

“I will always be here. Right here, look at me!” he grabbed my chin and yanked it up sharply so I'd meet his eyes. They were angry.

“I warned you, Adeline. I warned you to keep you safe! Now, now I don't care how my father punishes me for killing you, you deserve to die!” he yelled in my face. Hands tightening around my throat and squeezing until I coughed. He threw me out of the backseat onto the ground, scratching my arms and legs up on the gravel. I winced at the pain. He grabbed my arm and threw me onto my back, straddling my waist, his hands went to my throat. Pinning me to the rock under my back, he drew out his knife. 

“I should make it slow... Very slow,” he growled between clenched teeth.

He hitched the blade up under my jaw, pressing it into my skin. I strained my neck against it, my wrists tied together, I shoved at his chest. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” I pushed at his chest and he fell back a little. Surprised I'd fought back for once.

I rolled over and shuffled to my feet with bound hands and feet. I knew already I want going to get far, my suspicions were correct: he grabbed my ankle and pulled my feet out from under me. I crashed onto the rocks again with a thud that knocked the wind out of me and dizzied my head. I shook my head and tried to kick him off of me. This was as close to freedom as I was going to get...

He hopped on me and punched my face. I felt the blood begin to flow and the punches kept coming until Jack's knuckles were stained in my blood. My vision started to fray and the pain began to wain. 

“SON, ENOUGH!” 

I peeked up, trying to make out a face. But my visions blurred dark

<><><> Current day and time

Drip, drip, drip... Drip.

Ugh...

I blinked until my vision cleared. My arms spayed at my sides, neck restrained to the splintery board I was tied to. My face stung, I could hardly keep my eyes open. 

Brad had spared me, but why?...

The lighting was dim but I could make out the surroundings of a janitors closet with a leaky roof. Sunlight escaped the cracks rain water dripped through. I peeked up through the slits eagerly, but they were too far away to do me much good. I tugged at the rope, feeling like a cornered animal, eventually being pushed to fight back. To survive. 

My wrists were tied, that's no surprise, to two iron bars sticking from the wall jaggedly. I tried to clear my head but it was still groggy. I'd better have a plan.

Billie's Point of View

My eyelids fluttered open to bright sunlight, just as Tré pulled into a parking space in front of a seven-elevan. 

“Wow Tré.” I yawned, peering up at a sign outside the window. “You actually did it.”

Tré nodded proudly. 

Mike sat up and rubbed his eyes in the backseat. Yawning he asked “How long have I slept?”

“You deserved it, buddy.” Tré grinned back at Mike. Mike just rolled his eyes. 

“Hand me the map.”

I grabbed it off the dashboard and handed it back to Mike, he looked out the window several times, up at the street sign we were parked under.

“Bill... Hand me the US map from the glove compartment...” he said, sounding distant.

I handed it back to him and watched his expression warily.

“Tré, did you ever see Jefferson pass while you were driving?...” Mike asked slowly.

“Yeah, we drove right by it, why?”

Mike's eyes widened “That was our turn.”

Tré's grin faded as it sunk in “Oh... Oh shit!”

“Yeah, oh shit.” Mike rolled his eyes.

“That was almost sixty miles back!” Tré sighed.

I peeked over at the gas gage. It was lying just above empty. We'd never make the hundred mile trip with the gas light on.

“We're gonna need gas then.” I sighed and dug out my wallet. 

Two ones... I forgot that I'd spent all my money trying to get into Disney Land the other day.

I ruffled my hair and looked over. Tré had three dollars, Mike didn't have his wallet at all.

“Crap, how're we gonna get moving again?” I groaned. Dropping my head into my hands.

It was silent until Tré spoke moments later “Hey Bill, there's a punk bar across the street.” he said, peering through the dusty windshield.

“Having a drink is the least of our worries right now, Tré.” I muttered.

“No, no, I've got an idea. Follow me.”

I looked back to Mike for a second opinion, he just shrugged. I climbed out and jogged after Tré who had already crossed the street. 

“Wait up, dammit!” I yelled after him, narrowly avoiding being smooshed by a car. 

We went inside, but Tré was already at the counter, talking to a business man in a band tee.

“Mr. Cool, if you want a loan from this establishment, you'll have to do something in return.” 

“Like what?”

“That's your job to figure it out.” he walked away to help a customer. Tré sighed and looked around. The place reminded me of 924 Gilman back in Rodeo. A bunch of punks were walking around, talking and drinking. 

“Hey, you guys are Green Day!”

I spun around warily. A kid, about sixteen, came towards us with a blue mohawk. 

“Uh, yes, yes we are.”

“Hey, I'm Tony. My dad owns this place.” he gestured around.

“Yeah...” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We just met him.”

“Ya did?” he asked in surprise.

I nodded “We need some money for gas.” 

He pursed his lips and nodded “Yeah, my dads a tightass when it cokes to giving strangers money.” he laughed.

Then he became thoughtful “Actually, I think I could get you guys some money, wait here.” he walked off into the crowds.

When he came back, I wax expecting him to have a armload of cash or something cliché like that.

But instead he wore a grin and stopped in front of me “My dad agreed to pay you guys 150 if you'll play a set.” he stated.

“A set?” I laughed “I'll play a million sets to be back on the road.”

“So its settled, then.”

“But we don't have our instruments.” I complained, following him to the stage.

“Don't worry, we got some.” was all he replied. 

He jogged up onto the makeshift stage “Hey guys, we're putting it to a vote. Green Day are here, and they need some gas money. Whadda ya guys say we give it to them?” the crowd cheered “Not for free, obviously. They're gonna play a set, and if they get more cheers than boos, they get the money. Guys ready?”

Tony gestured for us to go onstage, empty handed too... We warily made our way up the steps. 
Waking awkwardly at the building curious crowd. 

“Uh... Hi.”

Something heavy was draped over my right shoulder and I looked to see a cherry red Les Paul hanging there. Tony gave me a thumbs up and jogged off the stage. I peeked back to see Tré on a shiny silver drumset and Mike with a black bass that with a full months pay at his job, he sill wouldn't be able to afford. They looked just as dumbstruck as I felt. I felt the pick I my fingers, fingered the chord in my right hand and took a deep breath.

“I saw you standing alone, with a sad look on your face. You call him on the phone, looks like he left without a trace.”

Boos started raining in, I was so nervous I was missing chords and my fingers were getting sweaty. I mixed up my lyrics multiple times and kept persevering onward. Throwing all my strength and concentration into the chorus.

“Why do you want him? Why do you want him?”

Then the cheers came. And the adrenaline started pumping and I started feeling alive. 

In my past couple dark days, I'd forgotten the thrill of live perfuming. Of singing and strumming songs we'd written. It was sheer thrill. 

But the best part of it all was the stress seemed to evaporate. Every thought about Adeline, every concern. Just... Disappeared. Replaced by the unstable need of Adrenaline in my blood. 

We played two more songs, including a split second decision to play a cover of the Who's My Generation.

The energy was tangible and accelerating. Not exactly something to be described. Because it's not possible to describe something like this. 

We took our bows, handed off the instruments and stood together on the left side of the stage as Tony bounced up the steps and landed in front of the mic on the last bound. He slid a little and caught the stand.

“Now!” Tony laughed breathlessly into the mic. I'd seen him moshing along with everyone else in this shady establishment. 

“How were they?!”

My eyes scanned the crowd and locked with almost every person in the venue. They paused, contemplating how they really felt about the music, they weren't going to be giving out free money to some junky Berkeley/Rodeo Punk scene band for no reason at all.

Then... I was stunned, breathless and amazed as hands flew into the air, moving simultaneously in the loudest applause I'd ever heard at one of our own shows. The last time I heard applause this loud, I was standing in row 56 at a Ramones concert three years back as a scruffy 15 year old kid who had no future, no hope and no determination. 

I was so caught up in the moment I didn't notice myself grinning, Mike and Tré patting my back and shoulders, congratulating each other, I didn't even notice the feeling of the thin white envelope being slipped between my limp fingers, containing the money we needed to get back on the road. 

I beamed at the crowd, turned to exchange a corny, cliché hug with my bandmates before marching off the stage. Mike got caught up in a conversation with the bar's manager, Tré animatedly chatting along with them while I stood a few feet behind Mike, arms crossed across my chest, waiting for the performance induced high to wear off, my eyes scanning the crowd, landing on a few faces who smiled and waved at me, few brave enough to approach and congratulate us, tell us about how we rock and they bought our EP already or were planning to. I normally would have been beyond pleased at the success we had at a unplanned venue. But as my high wore off and the adrenaline wore thin in my bloodstream, I started to feel the tell tale signs of annoyance and impatience to get back onto the road. 

I started rocking impatiently back and forth on my heels to preoccupy my time, eyes gracing every face in the room, landing upon a sweet, heart shaped face at the center of the room. Shoving back drunken men, grasping a red solo cup, she split the crowds less than gracefully as she walked towards me.

What? Why does she want to talk to me?... I wondered, confused. 

She came a foot from my face, making me feel a little less than comfortable with the fact she was taller than me, she had dark brown hair, with blond streaks, all in dreads, pulled up in a, surprisingly beautiful, bun on top of her head. But they weren't like ghetto dreads, no beads and ribbon. Just a standard grey scrunchy and some Bobby pins holding the dreads in place. Her eyes were soft, the color of coffee beans, but light like the demanding sound of the first words that fell from her bubblegum pink lips. 

“Hey, you're Billie Joe.”

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Unlike the rest of the people who had approached me.  

I nodded stiffly “Uh, yes- yes I am.” 

She laughed, her laugh sounded like damn bells I chuckled nervously, averting my gaze to the right side of the room to avoid her eyes. My stomach twisted uneasily and I tried to get myself to calm down and stop panicking.

Calm down, asshole I cursed myself inside my head She's just a girl, it's not like you're wrestling a barracuda or anything. 

She smiled, leaning into my line if sight “You okay?” she asked.

“Ye-ah...” I nodded slowly.

“You sure?” she asked, grabbing my forearms and straightening me up. “You dong look so good.” she said and ducked her head to look into my eyes that I hung low.

“I said I'm good.” I hissed. Becoming defensive over reasons I don't even understand. I wanted to take the words back when I saw the realization spread across her face. Her unsure half step backwards, her heel catching on a loose tile and she fell backwards. 

I didn't think, just acted on instinct and reached out, enclosing her hand in mine and saving her from falling onto her backside. 

She gasped, surprised by both the sudden movement and my hand in hers, pulling her to her feet again. She sighed in frustration and stood on one leg, wobbled a little as she lifted her right foot and pried off what may be the most dangerous heel I have ever seen. After she'd taken both of them off, she was actually shorter than me, by like an inch. 

“Thanks.” she smiled, her whole face lighting up. “Here, follow me.”

The uneasy feeling returned, but I forced my legs to move and followed the mysterious girl with the bun of dreads. She pulled open the door to the kitchen and walked through nonchalantly in her tights. Only now did I take any notice of the rest of her other than her face, she was pretty tall, and I'm pretty short, but still... She wore a pair of black hip hugging shorts that buttoned above her hips, a black halter top and a baggy juniper green cargo jacket over the top with various patches on it. A US Army patch, a few from concert venues she'd been to. She was pretty cool, actually. She had a few piercing in her ears, which currently only held tiny diamond studs. 

She paused to pulled open a door that turned out to be kind of a outdoor break room area.  The north and east walls were screen, showing a view of the weedy backyard behind the bar, a light breeze wafting in. She stopped in front of one of the eight lockers along the south wooden wall. Twisting the dial left and right a few times, she popped it open and tossed the killer heels inside carelessly. And dug around on the top shelf. I peeked over her shoulder, the inside of her locker was a punk-rock haven. The walls paved in concert posters and tickets. I held my breath in awe.

“Holy shit...” I whispered.

“Like?” she laughed. 

I nodded and chuckled. She pulled out a pair of Chuck Taylor's off the top shelf and walked over to a bench, sitting down and lacing them up over her tights. 

She smiled up at me, her skin was a light tanned olive color, was very pretty, she held out her hand.

“I'm Adrienne by the way.”

I rose my eyebrows and grabbed her hand in mine, shaking firmly.

She laughed “Anyways, it's so damn loud out there, I just wanted to talk, this is the quietest place I could think of.”

I nodded slowly and took a seat on the bench across from her. Looking up at her brown eyes “What do you want to talk about?”

She grinned “Your band, Green Day, have a EP out, right?”

I nodded “Yes”

“Ok, cool. I thought so, anyways would you happen to know of anywhere in Minnesota I could pick up a copy?” she asked hopefully.

I huffed a sigh. Larry had put some people at Lookout in charge of calling around and finding places who would supply 1000 Hours. I have no idea where you could get it in Minnesota.

“Here, tell you what, I don't know where they are available in Minnesota, but give me your number and address, and I'll just send you a copy in the mail.” I shrugged. We had piles of them back home. 

She grinned “Well, great then! How much?” she dug out a wad of ones from her pocket.

“I've got it” I waved at her with the envelope. 

She smirked “You sure?”

I nodded and stood up “Yup. Now I'd better find my bandmates, I've gotta find Adeline still...” I muttered absentmindedly.

“Who?” Adrienne asked. And I felt like a total ass, I'd said way too much and now look like I'm hunting for sympathy. I cursed myself out in my head. 

“Uh, no- no one.” I stuttered. Her face told me that she caught me in my fib.

“Is that why you're so on edge?” she challenged.

My eyebrows furrowed “I am not on edge.” I insisted. Turning and pressing my palms against the door. 

If there is one very distinct thing about Adrienne, it's that she's determined and hardheaded. 

She gestured that she was done and smirked at me as she pulled open the door and shrugged past me. She dropped it so easily, I turned and followed after her to the lounge again. She walked behind the bar and slipped out of he'd jacket, hanging it on a peg by the kitchen door, grabbing a black apron beside it and tying it around her waist. 

I watched in confusion as she walked over to Tony and wrote down something he had said onto a small paper notepad, she shot him one of her charming smiles before turning around and grabbing a mug and filling it with beer, setting it in front of him, Tony grinned down at me and gestured for me to take a seat. I did so, begrudgingly. 

“What can I get you?” Adrienne asked, pacing toward me from behind the counter. 

“You're a waitress?” I asked surprised. 

She laughed and rolled her eyes “Sometimes. It's not my only job.”

“What other jobs do you have?” I asked curiously. She filled a glass with water and set it in front of me. 

“Well, I'm not a stripper if that's what you're wondering” she winked.

“But my brother is a professional skateboarder, I work in his shop sometimes and paint skateboards and run register.” 

“Skateboards?” I perked up.

She nodded, smiling “Yeah”

“I skate sometimes, on occasion.” I shrugged.

“Cool.” she smiled “I was raised a total tomboy, played in mud, listened to grunge rock, did all that stuff. Now that I think of it, I don't think I ever owned a Barbie.” she laughed, turning to refill a man's glass a few seats down. 

“Now, back to you. Tell me all about this girl you're gonna save.” she grinned evilly, taking notice of the fact she was totally buffaloing me, and not letting that opportunity slip up. 

“You are really determined, aren't you?” I laughed nervously. Scratching the back of my neck. 

She nodded “And you are really secretive- spill.”

I looked back into her eyes. Realizing that I wasn't absolutely obligated to telling this pretty stranger my life story.

“No.” I said simply. “For whatever reason it is you want to know, it's just my girlfriend was kidnapped, no big deal.” I said with exasperated sarcasm. 

“And what makes you think she's in Minnesota versus California?” she pressed, grabbing my arm to stop me from turning away. 

“Because! It's- it's so so complicated and you—”

“Wouldn't understand?” she finished, nodding her head as she thought it over, her smirk turning into a grimace. “You know, that is such a cliché guy thing for you to say.” she snorted and released me hand, turning away from my and pacing down the counter again. 

I growled in frustration “Adrienne! I wasn't trying to offend you.” I said, following her. Watching her violently scrub at a nonexistent stain on the countertop. 

“Well congratulations! You succeeded, anyways.”

I sighed “I'm sorry for everything I said, but I've really gotta get back onto the road.” I pointed my thumb in the direction of the orange van in the parking lot across the street.

“So take me with you, I can help you look for her, a extra set of eyes.” she offered. Her face softening.

“What? No, no way. You gotta stay here.”

Mike and Tré appeared out of nowhere behind me 

“Who's the chick?” Mike asked. 

“I'm Adrienne, nice to meet you Mike.” she shook hands with Mike, Mike looked blown away by her obvious sweetness.

“Billie Joe here has just offered me a spot on your search crew.” she smiled.

“What? No—” she clamped her hand over my mouth and smiled at them both, using her charm on them.

“Uh, er so it's settled! You're coming with us."

“Excellent!” 

I glared at Mike. 

“What?” he asked innocently.

“What was that!?” I shrieked. 

“Chill dude, she's a extra set of eyes.”

I sighed angrily. Adrienne, the beautiful foreign girl whose last name I didn't even know was going to be accompanying us. Great. just fuckin' great.