Crust Punk, Bad Luck

Walk-a-bout is skinny, she looks like she's ill. To see her eat feels impossible, her stature has nothing to do with calories consumed. One time when things were tough, she entered a hot dog eating contest. Winning by a landslide, she continued to eat.

Rat joked that she ate every hot dog in Mississippi that day, and a wistful gaze was known to come over her face. Hot dogs are gold when you're a train hopping, crust punk, scumbag.

These aren't mean words, if you ask folks like Walk-a-bout. She wears the dirt on her face like some ladies wear makeup. A statement of beauty, of power, of sex. Animals; all of them were, she was no different. The gutter provided abundance; no consideration for decorum needed.

^{Photo by Tama66}
She used to have a worm farm she tended in her backpack, a prized possession.

That was back before Theiry changed paths. Walk-a-bout lay with her lover in the slow sway of the train car. They had been lucky to hop on before this fella took off, the next day they had big plans in Nashville. Entangled in dreams, she leaned into the warmth of her partner.

Waking up cold and confused, she only saw Rat. At some stop Theiry must have jumped off, leaving no explanation or evidence of empathy.

He took the damn worm farm, they had called them their kids. Walk-a-bout wandered the streets of Tennessee in a haze, forgetting whatever it was that had brought her there. Rat was apathetic about the break up, Theiry had also taken the pot when he jumped ship.



When remembrance of the reason they traveled smacked Walk-a-bout across her dreadlocked head, it also stabbed her in the heart. Theiry took all the thumb drives. They came to sell the coding she had written with Rat, Theiry didn't know jack about technology.

Apparently, he was a sociopathic mastermind however, he had swiped 20k from their hands. That money was supposed to buy them a slice of paradise, maybe he never cared about that at all. Sure would be nice to ask before I smashed his pretty face in, Walk-a-bout fumes as she tries to form another plan with Rat. They were deadly broke.

The contact for the drives was Theiry's, so that was garbage. They had a week to come up with the money another way, before they would lose their bid on some fine Montana dirt.

^{Photo by JoshuaWoroniecki}
"We could knock off a pepsi truck, swap it out for crank? That's a never fail." Walk-a-bout paces, her bony shoulder blades stick out as she runs her fingers through her matted hair.

"Yeah, wicked smooth. That get's us what, 500 bucks? Not worth the travel time, sis." Rat leans against the fence that surrounds the parking lot next to them. Eyeing the security guard, he sighs and spits. "We should hit Nevada." he carefully watches how she decides to respond to this.

Tension, freezing her up at first, gives way to reconciliation. Visiting the farm meant seeing Gopher, her ex-husband. The pair hadn't ended on good terms, or bad. In the way that time drives a wedge between the softness of initial glances, it also separated their enjoyment of each other.

It wasn't like he would have a problem with her showing back up at his camp, which could've stayed hers too. He never asked her to leave, she just knew it was time. She earned the nickname for a reason, chick can't stay put. She also didn't like turning back.



After she kicked the idea around her head like rocks, she agreed. It was likely that Gopher had leads on work, and he'd help them out. This time though, they were driving.

After three hours of boredom and anger, the pair finally saw the guard check out for the evening. Leaving the cars within the gated lot to the odds of successful surveillance. Rat had a sling shot for that qualm, and as they approached the dream machine, he shot at the lens that covered it. Nothing to see here.

They had selected the car by the speckles of bird poop that dotted its windows. A closer look showed their inkling was spot on as usual, the parking chit inside was three days old. Likely its owner was having a bad time, and was going to have a worse time. At least there is insurance, they always made sure to look for it in the glovebox before they shopped a car.

They knew it was still low vibration, but anger had unrooted empathy. The irony of that was lost on the pair, as the connected wires in the steering column. The vehicle roared to life, and they hoped in. It was gonna be a long damn night. No time for messing around, they would drive straight across the country.

^{Photo by jplenio}
Gopher is chill when they get there, sleepy and dazed as all get out. He doesn't seem shocked to see his ex-wife show up to his camp with a dude he's never met. If it bothers him in the slightest, he doesn't show it. He drives right into the eagerness of wanting to know what brought them.

He listens to the dilemma and assures them he has some ideas, offering a space to sleep while he dug in some ears. His face is kind when he tells Walk-a-bout, "That man is a fool." in regard to Theiry, it means a lot from Gopher. It really wasn't awkward the way Walk-a-bout worried it would be. Climbing onto a cot, she fell asleep rapidly, with relief in her many pockets.

She and Rat woke up stiff on their respective cots, with the sun setting through the plastic window of the army tent they slept in. Rat grunted a greeting, going outside for a whizz. When he came back, Gopher was with him. Gopher had a bummer of a look on his face, and he was carrying doughnuts. That wasn't good, it was his trademark cheer up during their marriage.



"Good morning sweet lady, how did you sleep?" Gopher starts, attempting to ease his way into a new tone with her. All she's sees are the donuts, she grabs one and shoves it into her mouth.

Through her stuffed lips, she gets right to the point. "There's no job, is there?" her muffled words somehow still convey sadness. He shakes his head, and they talk for a time.

There was plenty of work, but not for that sum. Walk-a-bout could tell he really tried, his eyes are sincere when he tells her he's sorry. For a moment, she almost thinks he looks handsome. Then she remembers that's the rebound blues, and history doesn't need to be rewritten to death.

"Perhaps you could find some new beauty here, after all these years. Why not hang tight for a spell while you gather funds?" Gopher offers. Behind him Rat emphatically nods. She hears herself say, "That would be nice." but her heart aches. There would be another plot, another time. She tries to center on that, as she realizes how bizarre it is to watch the sunset with her ex-husband.