alien, Daily Prompt, driving, humor, serial fiction, writing

Rigabold: A Northwest Highway Cruise

Because Rigabold the pernicketness, even in his chosen human form, didn’t have the same restraints that humans had he could easily make the trip between Halls Creek and Broome, a distance of about six and a half hours at the speed limit, without the need for toilet stops. The muscles of the human body weren’t the best for being couped up in such a small space for such a long time, they got tight and in some cases painful but not long after his first unscheduled stop Rigabold had worked out a routine of muscle stretching and movement to alleviate such problems.

Several times during trip when the GPS told him there was no other traffic for a large distance Rigabold planted the right boot and increased his speed, however even in the outback the main roads were fairly well used and it was rare to go half an hour without seeing a fellow traveller pass by. The biggest problem Rigabold had with increasing his speed was that he’d come up on traffic travelling the same direction very quickly. Not that he expected to have to explain himself to anyone but explaining how a Dodge Ram was able to sneak up on someone and appear seemingly from nowhere on a dead straight road was too difficult to consider. Therefore it was a lot easier to not put himself in that position by only using excessive speed when he needed it.

More than six hours since he had last eaten and Rigabold was looking forward to another Chiko Roll, or thee, and perhaps a spearmint moo juice when he arrived in Broome. He knew there would be no problems getting himself a feed in a town like Broome, it might not have been a big city but it was a holiday destination and fairly well occupied throughout the year. He also knew that his best chance of picking up a his chosen delicacy was at a roadhouse or takeaway store such as a fish and chip shop because for some reason Earth people just hadn’t worked out how good Chiko Rolls were and as such frowned upon seeing them in restaurants.

Because Chikos were predominantly only available in take away type shops Rigabold also knew he wouldn’t be able to sample every eating establishment available. Even in a smallish town like Broome with a permanent population of less than fifteen thousand and a full days road travel from both Darwin and Perth there was eleven separate choices where he could get a Chiko Roll cooked and ready to go.

While he could easily eat eleven Chiko Rolls in one sitting, visiting eleven different stores to get his feast was impractical but when it came to capital cities like Sydney and Melbourne, even Perth at a fraction of the size impractical become impossible. He might not have had an exact time frame to complete his job but Rigabold knew he didn’t have the unlimited time he needed to try every eatery.

Before he arrived in Broome Rigabold selected two eateries from the list on his GPS, both selections were roadhouses and both appeared to be fairly busy going by the live images on his screen. Because his arrival time was close to what some people on Earth referred to as dinner time Rigabold figured the busier of the roadhouses would hold his best chance of fulfilling his order.

Thirty minutes after his arrival in Broome Rigabold was back on the highway and headed roughly south.He’d fuelled up both the Dodge and himself, fuel in the Dodge and six Chiko Rolls for himself.

During his studies of Earth and especially Australia Rigabold decided he needed to know and understand as much about the local culture as he could, some of those topics included local aborigines, weather, landmarks and local music.

One thing he did learn was that a lot of local music told a story of the country, there was thousands of songs written specifically for and about Australia. Because he was going to spend so much time on the road with only himself and the bumps to keep him company he’d had the Dodge’s entertainment system loaded Australian music, that told stories of particular areas, times and people.

Heading down the North West Highway, essentially towards Perth, the entertainment system chose the first song for him. It was a song by the classic Australian band The Angels, (known as Angel City in some parts of the world according to the screen), it was aptly titled Northwest Highway and was written as the band were on tour driving down the exact road Rigabold was on.

I love a sunburnt country
Its sweeping hills and plains
Where the red earth meets the blue sky
And it never bloody rains

Rigabold, knew the words well as he’d listened to the song, and many in his collection, on his journey to Earth.

The song mentioned many things the band saw on the road as they travelled, things like “bus surfin’ road crews”, red dust, blue skies, the band and crew swimming in a python pool, even the Sandfire Roadhouse that Rigabold would pass a few hours out of Broome. Rigabold felt no need to be swimming in a python pool no matter how friendly pythons were in Australia but he did consider stopping at the Sandfire Roadhouse to get a souvenir.

All right, I’m on a Northwest Highway Cruise
All right, I’m on a Northwest Highway Cruise
Newman new song
Smoke in the billabong
Show me what you’ve got to lose

Rigabold sang loud and proud to himself as he drove, it was going to be a long time until he would pass through Newman as mentioned in the chorus but like the Sandfire Roadhouse Rigabold knew he’d have to stop for a souvenir to show his friends back home that he’d been somewhere important enough to be mentioned in song.

Previous Episode here.
First Episode here.

12 Comments

  1. I YouTubed them and they’re not bad. I like how you integrated that into the story. Good job. Fun. : )

    • If only I remembered to keep putting songs into the story 🙂

      The Angels are quintessential Aussie Pub rock. We worked with them a heap of times. Doc Neeson, the lead singer, was a man beyond all others. He was probably the nicest and most charismatic muso I’ve ever know. His loss to Australian music was unmeasurable.

  2. His bio reads like he worked hard on his music. It still says he died at 67. Although that is fairly young in old years, that’s still a pretty good life. Sounds like he enjoyed music. We should all be so lucky to find what we love. : )
    What do you love?

    • Yeah he did a lot to help remove the drink, get drunk, see a band, fall down culture of the aussie music scene. Poor bugger was never the same after his accident in 1999, then when he got sick it was just sad.

      I love me!
      What do you love?

  3. You rarely answer my deeper questions…. I am game to that guy thing where you answer a question with another question.

    I like you too…. I guess we have that in common. I guess I was thinking in terms of “work.” There are parts of my job I love, but my identity is not rapped up in my job. I am guessing his was?

    • You do realise I could say the same thing about deep questions? 😛

      However my answer is true. I remember once hearing that if you never love yourself you can’t love anything/anyone else. I tend to agree, I didn’t particularly like myself for a long time. I still had fun, I still had a life but I like to think everything is better since I learnt to love me, or at very least forgive me. (Damn I sound like I found god!)

      I’ve loved aspects of all the jobs I’ve had, but can’t say I’ve loved every job. If I was asked what I’d love to spend the rest of my life doing, be it paid or not I really couldn’t name one thing.

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