by Chris Colfer
“Will you stop apologizing?” Cash said. “How were you supposed to know they’d come at me like piranhas? I’ve gotten stuck for a lot longer in worse places. This one time, I was at a checkout in an Ikea for eight hours.”
“You were taking pictures for eight hours?” Mo asked.
“Nope—I was just buying a lamp. Ba-da-bum!”
Cash laughed wildly at his own joke and Topher was relieved to see he was in good spirits. The actor had been in a much better mood after taking two white pills from his backpack. Whether they were for pain or anxiety, nobody asked, but they figured it was warranted after the ordeal at the diner.
At roughly a quarter to four o’clock, and two hundred and twenty miles into their trip, the car passed Exit 178B and Topher knew they were getting close to their first roadside attraction.
“We’re almost at the world’s biggest rubber-band ball!” he announced.
Cash looked out the window but all he saw were fields and trees. “How do you know that? I didn’t see a sign.”
“I’ve got the entire route memorized,” Topher said. “We just passed Exit 178B and the world’s biggest rubber-band ball is off Exit 180A. It should be coming up in a couple minutes.”
“You memorized the exit numbers?” Cash asked in disbelief.
“Topher’s got one of those brains,” Sam said. “He took more AP classes than anyone else at school and was valedictorian of our class.”
“Thank God, too, because none of us would have passed Algebra 2 if he didn’t tutor us,” Mo added.
“Color me impressed,” Cash said. “Where are you planning to go to college, Toph? Are you gonna be one of those Ivy League hotshots?”
“Not exactly. I’m staying in Downers Grove to get my GE and I’ll transfer later. I’ll get to save money that way and I can help my mom with my little brother—he’s got cerebral palsy.”
“Topher’s the best brother in the world,” Joey bragged. “And I would know—I have two older and two younger ones. But we don’t treat each other with an ounce of the compassion Topher has for Billy.”
“In that case, I call dibs to the film rights of your life story,” Cash said. “What does the future hold for the rest of you? College? Peace Corps? Sea Org?”
“I’m going to the Rhode Island School of Design,” Sam said.
“Stanford,” Mo said.
“Fancy. What about you, Joey?”
“I’ll be majoring in performing arts at Oklahoma Baptist University,” he said.
“You’re going to Oklahoma to study performing arts? Isn’t that like going to Florida State to be a ski instructor?”
“Well…” Joey paused as he came up with a defense. “It’s a really great program, it won’t be too far from home, and a lot of talent has come out of Oklahoma—Brad Pitt, Blake Edwards, Kristin Chenoweth, James Marsden.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Cash said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shit on your parade, you clearly know what you’re doing. I imagine it’ll be hard meeting other gay people at a Baptist school, though.”
Joey suddenly sat straight up in his seat like he had been electrocuted. “I’m not gay,” he said.
Cash was stunned, as if Joey had just denied being African-American. He looked to Joey’s friends, but they didn’t second-guess the objection.
“My bad,” Cash said. “I meant it as a compliment. You look like you take care of yourself and seem really put together—like most gay people I know. I probably misread the whole performing arts thing.”
“Compliment accepted,” Joey said with a nervous laugh. “By the way, speaking of school, that reminds me, I have to attend this stupid registration meeting tomorrow night in Oklahoma City.”
“A meeting? This early before the semester?” Topher questioned.
“Ridiculous, right?” Joey huffed. “It’s something all students from out of state need to do before the school year starts. I figured I’d just get it out of the way since we’re going to be there. It’ll save me another trip.”
His friends were bummed they’d miss a night with him, but understood the convenience and didn’t fault him for it. Cash, on the other hand, thought it was a little too convenient. Something else was definitely going on, and Joey was terrible at hiding it—Cash knew a bad performance when he saw one.
“I see Exit 180A!” Topher declared. “First stop, here we come!”
The station wagon took the exit and pulled off the highway. They traveled a couple of miles away from the interstate, then turned onto a dirt road lined with a metal fence. The world’s biggest rubber-band ball was at the very end of the road and perched on the top of a tall grassy hill. It was the size of a house, and a wooden observation deck wrapped around it.
Topher parked at the base of the hill but there weren’t any other visitors. He and his friends got out of the car, let Cash out of the back, and stared up at the attraction for a couple of moments before approaching it.
“What a dump,” Mo said.
Their first roadside attraction was a complete letdown. It was severely sun damaged and all its colorful bands had turned gray over time. Several pieces of wood were missing from the deck and termites had feasted on what remained.
“Even I couldn’t fix up that pile of garbage,” Sam said.
“Maybe it looks better close up,” Topher suggested—once again blaming himself for the disappointment.
They climbed the hill to get a better look but it was even more decrepit up close. The whole deck had been tagged with graffiti, and several bird nests had been built within the looser bands.
“The pictures online looked way better,” Sam said. “Granted, they were taken in the forties.”
“Of which century?” Mo quipped.
“It’s still a landmark,” Topher said. “We still get to tell our grandchildren we saw the world’s biggest rubber-band ball. That’s pretty cool, right?”
Cash was the only one brave enough to climb up the steps and walk around the observation deck. He seemed to see a much different attraction than the others did.
“I sympathize with it,” he said. “This thing has spent its whole life on display, amusing and delighting families decade after decade, only to spend its final days covered in bird shit and with the stench of roadkill. It reminds me of an old actress I know.”
“You think it bounces?” Joey asked.
Cash shrugged. “Let’s find out.”
He leaned back on the railing and kicked the giant ball with both of his feet as hard as he could, trying to set it free. The whole deck shook and pieces of wood started breaking off.
“Can we not damage public property?” Sam asked. “Some of us have applied for scholarships and will be denied if we get arrested.”
“It’s stuck anyway,” Cash said, and ended his assault on the landmark. “This place is a dud. Let’s get out of here. If we leave now, maybe we can make up the time we lost at the diner.”
The travelers headed down the hill to the station wagon, but stopped when they heard a series of loud snaps and crunches behind them. They turned back to the attraction at the top of the hill and saw the observation deck start to crumble and collapse beneath it.
“That can’t be good,” Mo said.
The world’s biggest rubber-band ball began to wobble and break free from the barriers containing it. The giant ball slowly rolled out from the deck’s debris and descended down the hill, headed straight toward its visitors.
“RUN!” Topher yelled.
They bolted for the station wagon and threw themselves into the car. Topher cranked the ignition, but the engine didn’t start.
“Why isn’t the car starting?” Sam shouted.
“Because it never starts on the first try!” Topher reminded her, and tried again.
At first the enormous ball of rubber bands moved at a leisurely pace, but it gained speed and momentum the farther it traveled. Soon it was racing down the hill like a rubber avalanche.
“Hurry! It’s gett
ing closer!” Mo shouted.
“I just need a second!” Topher said.
“We don’t have a second!” Joey screamed.
Finally the station wagon roared to life. Topher yanked the gearshift into reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car rocketed backward right before the moving landmark could flatten it. The passengers cheered, but their worries weren’t over.
“It’s still coming toward us!” Sam hollered.
“This is just like Indiana Jones!” Cash laughed.
The giant ball ricocheted off the metal fence like a pinball and chased the station wagon down the dirt road like Godzilla. Everyone inside the car screamed except Cash, who sang the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. Right when Topher worried they’d all be goners, the car reached the end of the dirt road and he swerved out of the rogue attraction’s path.
The world’s biggest rubber-band ball bounced into the horizon like a deer recently freed from captivity.
Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo sat quietly as their hearts recovered from the traumatic experience. They were out of breath, sweating profusely: their whole lives had just flashed before their eyes. Cash erupted into a wildly inappropriate fit of hysterical laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Joey shouted. “You almost got us killed!”
“Sorry.” The actor snickered. “But at least I answered your question.”
Chapter Ten
ROSEMARY’S ABORTION
At six thirty-five on Sunday evening, Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo were enjoying the exhibits of the Lewis and Clark Museum in the heart of downtown St. Louis. The museum was rather dull and its displays were in serious need of a renovation, but the gang wasn’t complaining. After narrowly missing being killed by the world’s biggest rubber-band ball, they found the lackluster halls of the Lewis and Clark Museum very comforting.
They had dropped Cash off at a coffee shop earlier so he could find something “fun” for them to do later that night (and they feared whatever suggestion was coming their way). Being with the actor was turning into more of a babysitting job than a dream come true, so they enjoyed the peaceful museum while they could.
“Sacagawea was a Native American woman from the Lemhi Shoshone tribe,” Mo read from the pamphlet they received at the museum’s entrance. “She played an essential role in Lewis and Clark’s exploration of the Louisiana Purchase, guiding the explorers from North Dakota to the Pacific Ocean, and established communication with the Native American populations they encountered.”
Mo and her friends observed a tacky depiction of the explorers’ first interaction with their celebrated tour guide. Lewis and Clark were handsome mannequins with blond hair and blue eyes, and had chiseled torsos peeking out from their colonial garb. Sacagawea was a slightly terrifying wax figure with a wandering eye, a smashed nose, and a crooked head. She looked more like a Halloween decoration than a national treasure.
“Typical,” Sam said. “She did most of the work, yet they named the museum after the boys. Why can’t there be a Sacagawea university, or public library, or high school?”
“Because white people are too immature to handle a name like Sacagawea,” Topher said.
They heard a commotion at the front of the museum and saw Cash at the entrance. He was trying to purchase admission but the cashier had recognized him and was so surprised she forgot how to work the register. Once she recovered from the shock, she sold him a ticket and he happily jogged across the museum to rejoin his fellow roadies.
“Guys, I found the perfect thing to do tonight,” he boasted. “I got us tickets to see Rosemary’s Abortion live in concert! They’re in St. Louis for one night only! They were completely sold out, but luckily I found a guy on Craigslist that had some tickets for sale!”
“Rosemary’s Abortion?” Mo asked. Her imagination did her no favors and filled her head with gruesome assumptions. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“It’s only the coolest, hippest, and trendiest punk rock band in the Midwest,” Cash explained.
“Is that an oxymoron?” Joey asked.
“They’ve got ten thousand likes on their Facebook page, three independently released albums on iTunes, and were avid Bernie Sanders supporters,” Cash pitched. “I’ve never heard of them personally,” he added, “but after checking every social events calendar on the Internet, it’s our best bet for a fun Sunday night.”
The actor excitedly passed out tickets to Topher, Joey, Sam, and the Sacagawea statue—mistaking it for Mo.
“I’m over here!” she said.
Cash took a second look at the wax figure and jumped a foot backward. “What the hell is that thing? An Ewok?”
“That’s supposed to be Sacagawea,” Sam said.
The name didn’t ring a bell.
“Sacagawea, huh?” Cash asked. “I had Sacagawea once, but it was nothing a little penicillin couldn’t clear up. Hey-oh!”
“Told you,” Topher whispered to the others.
Cash looked around the museum as if he had taken a wrong turn and wound up in the wrong place. He removed his sunglasses to get a better look at his surroundings.
“Why does this place look like the set of Davy Crockett? Where’s all the Superman stuff?”
The others shared a confused glance—clearly there had been a miscommunication.
“This is the Lewis and Clark Museum,” Topher said. “You know, the famous explorers from history?”
Cash was appalled. “I thought you said you were going to a Lois and Clark museum. You guys came here intentionally? Good God, someone save these kids from themselves.”
For the first time, the others noticed his eyes were bright red and his pupils were the size of pinholes. He was also standing a bit more hunched over than before and his head wobbled back and forth like a toddler’s.
“Are you feeling okay, Cash?” Joey asked. “You seem a little… loopy.”
“Oh—it’s just my allergy medication,” he said, and quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, the doors for the concert open at seven and the band goes on at eight. We should probably get going so we have time for a drink when we get there—it’s a couple miles down the road.”
They looked at the tickets and spotted something crucial Cash had overlooked.
“The tickets say this is a twenty-one-and-over show,” Topher pointed out. “They won’t let us in.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem—I almost forgot,” he said, and pulled four cards from his pocket. “I got you guys fake IDs.”
Cash presented the IDs like a winning poker hand, but the idea of using fake identification mortified his friends.
“We left you alone for barely an hour! How did you have time to get concert tickets and fake IDs?” Mo asked.
“The prop guy from Wiz Kids is from St. Louis and passed along a contact,” Cash said, and handed them out. “Tonight you get to leave your square Downers Grove personas behind you. Topher will be Boris, Joey will be Hemi, Sam will be Katarina, and Mo will be Sue Yong. See, nothing to worry about!”
“Nothing to worry about?” Sam disagreed. “Cash, this is super illegal! You could have been arrested for this! And how would we have bailed you out?”
The actor grunted. “Puh-lease, if I had a nickel for every time I could have gotten arrested, the bail would pay itself. If you’re worried about getting caught, don’t be. These IDs are premium stuff—they’re duplicates from the St. Louis DMV. Cost me a grand each. The guy had a case with hundreds of them and I picked the ones that resembled you guys the most.”
“As if!” Mo objected. “This girl could be a sumo wrestler! And Sue Yong isn’t even a Japanese name!”
“Look, we appreciate you going to all the trouble, but this is just too much for us,” Topher said. “Besides, we have our hearts set on watching the sunset from the Gateway Arch. We don’t want to miss that for a concert.”
Cash was thoroughly disappointed. They tried to give him the IDs back but he wouldn’t accept them.
“You four are the worst teenagers in the world,” he said. “I’ve got news for you—the sun and the Gateway Arch aren’t going anywhere, but your youth is passing you by like a taxi in a bad neighborhood. Using fake IDs and sneaking into concerts is what being young is all about. Let yourselves have a little fun while you still can!”
Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo collectively sighed. The potential consequences made them nervous but they were tempted by the idea of having a little fun.
“I suppose misbehaving just once wouldn’t be so bad,” Sam said.
“And we did want to make memories on this trip,” Joey said.
“Strategically speaking, the odds are in our favor,” Topher said. “I imagine the likelihood of getting caught the first time we break the rules is a very low percentage.”
“Okay, I’m in,” Mo decided. “But if we get caught, I’m telling the police you forced us at gunpoint.”
Cash rubbed his hands together eagerly. “It’s a deal,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here—I swear Sacagawea just winked at me.”
The five thrill seekers left the museum with so much anxiety it was as if they had just planned to rob a bank. They loaded into the station wagon and Cash guided Topher to the concert venue across the city. The location was much farther than he had first advertised and in a very questionable part of town. All the buildings had thick bars over the windows and murals of graffiti, and shoes hung from every power line.
“There it is!” Cash said as they drove past the venue.
He pointed to a large warehouse with a banner that said ROSEMARY’S ABORTION—ONE NIGHT ONLY in a ransom-style font. A long line was already formed at the door. The concertgoers wore leather, spiked collars, and chains, and were covered in piercings and tattoos.
Joey gulped. “It’s an interesting crowd,” he said.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll get recognized in there?” Sam asked Cash.
“Nah,” he said. “They don’t look like people who’d watch a show about a time-traveling port-a-potty. I should be okay.”
“They remind me of those aliens from that Wiz Kids episode in season seven,” Mo said. “Remember? When the port-a-potty traveled to planet Dominaxitron?”