u/BencerSpecz

Herman Van Platz was seen leaving Boston July 13th, 2016. The following text was found at an abandoned pizza hut in eastern Nebraska.

A long and weary while ago, I made to embark on a cross-country trek from my home port in Boston, to the great western city of San Diego.  I was a military man you see, and I had orders to arrive there pronto.  I never expected my journey to be delayed by foul winds or unfavorable tides, but then again, man never had much luck in guessing the weather.

 

Determined to avoid the more dismal backwaters of our great country, I decided to take a scenic route.  I crossed into Canada by way of New York and made a swift departure onto the great plains of the American northern mid-west.  Cruising across the flatlands of Illionois, I began to doze off a bit.  I had been driving for nearly two days straight, stopping only for gas and to use the restroom.  In my haste to clear the old rusty steal belt, I had completely forgotten to eat.  My eyes began to grow heavy.  The radio playing oldies from the 70s almost sounded like a lullaby as I fought to maintain consciousness. 

 

Then, I heard it.  The sound of sirens droning in over the radio.  Was I dreaming?  Hallucinating? 

I sat up, rubbed my eyes and reached out to adjust the stereo so I could hear better.  And it was, sirens.  “SEVERE WEATHER ADVISORY ALERT.  TORNADO WARNING.  SHELTER IN PLACE.”

 

Delerious from exhaustion and hunger, I nearly burst out laughing to myself.  Sure the skies had been dark and ominous since Detroit, but a tornado?  This had to be a joke. 

 

Glancing toward the horizon, I saw what appeared to be something like a funnel in the clouds starting to form off to my right.  It was pretty far away.  The smart thing at the time seemed to be to just keep going.  Put the pedal to the floor and get the hell out of there.  So I did.  Clean across Illinois I raced.  There were barely any cars on that long, flat highway, and the ones that were there were going the opposite direction.  I was beginning to feel that maybe I was being a bit too bold.  But I didn’t dare stop.  The faster I got out of tornado alley the better. 

 

When I reached the Quad Cities at Iowa, I stopped to fuel up and checked the forecast.  When I saw the map and the direction the storm was moving I nearly went hysterical in the gas station parking lot.  The good people of Iowa probably thought I was nothing more than a common lunatic howling at the full moon.  The storm was heading westbound, straight along my path to Colorado.  “SEVERE WEATHER ADVISORY ALERT.  TORNADO WARNING.  SHELTER IN PLACE.” After allowing myself that brief moment of insanity, I regained my composure and rubbed my tired eyes.  I stared down at my phone.  I had put some distance between myself and the storm, but not much.  According to the ever accurate weather app, the storm was due to break up and dissipate somewhere over Omaha, Nebraska. 

 

I had a decision to make.  Hunker down in Iowa and risk being stuck in the tornado, or press on and hope for better weather at Omaha.  I have never been one for need of much sleep.  I always preferred the wee hours of the night.  While the rest of the world rests, I soldier on in solitude.  But even still, I had been at it for days now.  And I’d be remiss in my recounting if I did not confess my eyes were quite heavy in this moment. 

 

I shook my head, “Snap out of it man!”  True military man that I was, I knew that anything could be accomplished with enough sheer willpower and determination.  I popped into the gas station to shore up my supplies of caffeine and nicotine and made all necessary preparations to press onward to Nebraska. 

 

Now, mind you, the state of Iowa may look like a small, peculiar rectangle on the map of our great nation, but I assure you, while driving through it, it takes on more of the form of a lumbering, grassy behemoth.  I put my pedal to the floor in the hopes of expediting my crossing, but over every rolling hill there appeared to be nothing more than a never-ending sea of grassland.  As I pushed further west, the hills became flatter and flatter.  The notable towns fewer and farther between.  I could still see the storm in my rearview mirror looming, creeping west as I did, following in my footsteps. 

 

On and on and on I went across that tremendously boring state.  Farmland turned to grassland.  Hills turned to near perfectly flat plains.  I began to wonder if I would ever see the end of it.  After many hours, or what felt like years of driving, I made it. 

 

“Welcome to Nebraska”      

 

Never had I received a sweeter greeting from a road sign.  I had only a little more to go.  I would blow past Omaha and at last be free from the clutches of that barometric dreadnaught.  As I cleared the city limits, that’s when I felt it, that pain.  A sharp, twisting pain in my stomach like I had never felt before.  Evidently, a diet of caffeine and nicotine alone could only sustain a grown man for 3 and a half days, and no more.  I knew I would have no choice but to find somewhere to stop and eat if wanted this pain to go away.

 

My mouth began to salivate as I allowed myself to think of food for the first time since Boston.  I slowly became aware of an intense, primal need to fill my stomach with something made of protein and fat.  I tried to look on maps to see if I could find the nearest exit with a fast food restaurant, but my phone couldn’t seem to load anything at all, not even my current location.  I had absolutely no cell phone service.  My hands were shaking from hunger and sleep deprivation as I tried to mess with my phone to get a signal, but no matter what I did, nothing. 

 

“Alright,” I told myself, “I’ll just have to keep an eye out for something.  Usually exit signs list food and gas they have available.  Surely something will pop up soon.” 

 

For the sake of honesty, I’ll admit I was beginning to grow a bit nervous.  In this part of the country, exits can sometimes be 20 miles apart or more, even on a major highway like this one, and the exits which have actual establishments close by are even harder to come by.  What I’ve pushed my body too far?  What if I pass out from exhaustion and crash my car on the highway with nary a soul to help me? 

 

Then, I had a thought.  A feeling of quiet dread seemed to creep up the back of my neck as I thought it.  The road and the fields which spread out on either side of it seemed…flat.  Almost impossibly so, as if they stretched on to an infinity which I could almost squint my eyes and see into.  Even the clouds seemed flat, or stretched out beyond what seemed normal. 

 

I looked at my eyes in the rear view mirror and was met with gaze of a madman.  I began laughing hysterically again.  I laughed so hard it brought me to tears, and I had to fight myself to regain control of my breathing. 

 

“Ah, I’ve truly lost it now.  I’ve kept myself at it for so long I’m beginning to downright hallucinate!  A little food and a much needed nap and I’ll be ship shape!” 

 

That’s when I saw it.  Over the flat horizon came an iridescent, reddish glow.  A quaint little establishment which punctuated the barren landscape like some kind of beautiful question mark.  It was a pizza hut.  I nearly began crying again at the sight.  The knot in my stomach twisted and jabbed harder than ever before as if it knew what I was seeing.  It demanded food now!  I depressed my gas pedal to the floor and sent my vehichle hurling through the grassy abyss toward that little red light.  I’m not truly a religious man, but in that moment I could have sworn those storm clouds opened up for just a moment behind that pizza hut, as if some devine entity was at last assuring me, “You’ve made it.”

 

And I had.  The pizza hut in all it’s crimson glory had the open sign glowing in the window.  Although, I did find it strange, there didn’t appear to be any cars in the parking lot.  Family owned perhaps?  Do these people live in a pizza hut all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?  I admit it seemed a bit peculiar, but I was much too starved to care.  I needed sustenance, that’s all my brain and body knew.  I was so antsy with anticipation I could barely park my car within the lines of those empty parking spots.  I jumped out of my car and walked excitedly up to the doors of that dingy old pizza hut which seemed to be stuck straight out of the 90s.  I pushed the door open.

 

“Hello!  I’m in grave need of one large pepperoni my friends!  I haven’t had a bite in near four days now.” 

 

I stood there in the doorway for a good few seconds, took a few steps in and let the dark glass door close behind.  There was no one in the main part of the restaurant nor behind the counter that I could see.  I walked up to the counter and leaned my head just slightly in toward the kitchen area.

 

“Hello!  Anybody here?”  I called out into the seemingly empty kitchen.  Although it did appear empty, all the lights and ovens and machines they had back there were on as if someone had just been using them moments ago.

I stood there for a few moments listening.  I know!  They must be using the restroom.  I’ll just wait patiently here a moment until they finish washing up.  So I did, waited and waited., my stomach aching that sharp ache all the while.

 

It must have been a full 10 minutes I waited before finally deciding to investigate.  I walked up to the door of the employee restroom and knocked. 

 

“Hello?...”  Silence.  I slowly opened the restroom door, half waiting for someone to shout out occupied at the last minute, but no one did.  Once the door was fully open, I could see there had been no one there.  I stood in the bathroom for a moment alone.  I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if I was going insane.  I did not laugh this time. 

 

I pushed the door aside to walk back out into the main restaurant area, looked up and nearly jumped out of my skin.  Not three feet away from me there stood an employee in the hallway, gleaming at me with a chipper grin. 

 

“Good God!  Don’t sneak up on me like that man!” 

 

The boy just laughed, “Oh my, I’m so sorry sir!  I did not mean to scare you.  I just got off my break and I didn’t realize you were in here.”

 

I stared at the employee as if he had just bludgeoned me over the head with a glass bottle.  He gazed back at me with a clear eyed, chipper demeanor.  I suddenly realized that to this well groomed youngster I probably looked like a worn out old sock.  I shook my head and softened my gaze.  I put my hand on the lad’s shoulder.

 

“Forgive me, I… I’ve hardly eaten these past four days or so, and I’ve been on the road just as long.  I didn’t mean to shout.”

 

“No worries mister.  Well, you must be starving!  What can I get you?”  The boy gleamed at me with glowing assurance. 

 

My tired gaze turned to a weary smile, “One large pepperoni pizza please.”

 

“Coming right up!  Why don’t you have a seat and make yourself comfortable?”  In a flash the young work disappeared into the kitchen.  The banging of trays and pans echoing faintly out into the dining area. 

 

I sat down at a table and made to check my phone.  Still no service.  For what was meant to be a split second, I closed my eyes and took a deep, meditative breath at my situation.  I must have dozed off, because what felt like an instant later, the employee was placing a large pepperoni pie on the table in front of me.

 

“Here you are sir, one large pepperoni.  Would you like anything to drink?”

 

“Uh, just water please.  I’ve not been hydrating enough.”

 

The lad let out a chuckle, “No problem sir.  I gotcha.”  And in a puff of smoke he was gone again, back to the kitchen.

 

I lifted a slice of pizza from the pan, the cheese and sauce still melting hot.  I didn’t care, survival instincts took over.  I put the flaming hot slice of pie to my mouth and straight down my gullet, burning the whole way down.  All I could taste was painful heat as my tongue sought refuge from the broiling heat, but even still I knew this was the most delicious slice of pizza I had tasted in all my days. 

 

I had all but inhaled the first slice when the worker came back with my water. 

“Woah!  You were hungry.  I was only gone for half a minute tops!” 

I wiped my mouth and made to speak despite my tongue being burnt and numb.

“Yes, indeed I am.  I told you I’ve been driving four days with hardly an ounce of protein in my system.” 

 

“Ha!  That’ll do it!  So if you don’t mind me asking mister, what brings you all the way out here?  Where ya traveling to?

 

“Well, I’m on a cross country road trip from Boston to San Diego.  I’m moving my life from east coast to west.”

 

The boys eyes widened with amazement at that.  “Wait, you’ve been driving from out east?  Weren’t they hit by some sort of severe tornado event just yesterday?”

 

I grinned at the boy’s wonderment, feel almost cocksure of myself.  “That’s right, I suppose I’m the only one foolish enough around here to try and outrun a tornado.” 

 

The worker’s expression went almost oddly blank for a moment as he looked at me.  He nodded.  “That explains a lot.”

 

I looked at him a bit puzzled, “What?” 

 

“Well, let’s just say we don’t get a whole lot of customers out here, and when we do it’s usually someone like you who’s been out in a storm.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

The boy shrugged, “Don’t exactly know.  I just work here and do the best I can to serve what few people we get.  I see you’re just about finished with that pie already sir.  Would you like to pay up front?” 

 I looked down.  The boy was right.  Like a ravenous animal I had consumed that entire pizza without even realizing it.  My hunger finally satiated at last. 

 

“Yes…yes, I suppose I should pay my bill and be on my way.  No further delays for this old storm chaser.”

 

The boys expression went blank again.  “Right.  Just let me know when you’re ready.  I’ll be up at the register.” 

 

“Ha, yes.  Of course, I’ll be just a moment.”  I wiped my hands and mouth of pizza grease and cleared away my mess.  It was the least I could do for the young lad’s hospitability.

 

I walked up to the counter and presented my card.  “Hey, by the way, are you the only one who works here?” 

 

The worker took my card, swiped it through the machine and handed it back to me.  “Yep.  Been that way since 1997.  Have a nice day now!”  Before I could ask another question, he was gone, down the hallway and into the back of the kitchen.

 

1997?  Surely he’s pulling my leg.  It was the summer of 2016.  The kid was young enough to be my son.  I stood there for a moment, bamboozled. 

 

“Alright!  Well… thank you for your hospitality!  I really must be on my way now.”  I shouted back into the kitchen but again was met with only the whirring of machines.  This has undoubtedly been the strangest restaurant experience I’ve had in my thirty some-odd years. 

 

At this point, I was a bit uneasy and a bit eager to leave that somewhat eerie establishment, thankful as I was for the convenience.  “So long!  Hope business picks up soon for y’all.”  Silence.  I pulled the dark glass door open and walked quickly back to my vehicle.

The skies still looked questionable, though not as bad as before, I thought to myself.  That’s when I heard it again, the sound of tornado sirens, though not over the radio this time, but ringing through the sky around me.  “WARNING.  THIS IS A TORNADO WARNING.  RESIDENTS SHOULD IMMEDIATELY TAKE COVER.  THIS IS A TORNADO WARNING.” 

 

I couldn’t believe my ears.  This was impossible.  There’s not a chance in hell this storm had followed me from Illinois all the way to Nebraska.  I mean it was meteorologically, geographically, well… impossible!  Wasn’t it?  Then, it started raining.  A crack of thunder and lightning filled the sky over the pizza hut. 

 

“God damn it!  I didn’t come this far to give up now!”  I was furious, and determined to outrun this storm, this demon which seemed hell bent upon my capitulation.  I hopped in my car and put the pedal to the floor once more.  Just like that I was back on the highway, not another car in sight.  The wind was beginning to pick up.  My 2009 Mercury Sable began to rock to and fro on the highway with each passing barrage.  Now I felt I was being far too bold, but somehow this seemed personal.  This storm will not hold me down!  Besides, I’ve really nowhere to go but to hunker down at that pizza hut, and I’d really rather not do that. 

 

The rain continued to hours.  The wind getting more intense with each passing gust.  The sky was so dark I couldn’t tell if it was day or night at this point.  My phone was useless. 

 

I drove and drove and drove.  Through that impossibly flat countryside now obscured by rain and wind and darkness.  Still it seemed to grow flatter and flatter as I pressed on.  For countless hours I drove.  It could’ve been days, weeks I really wasn’t sure.  My fuel gage hardly seemed to move.  My little sedan seemed to be stuck out of time.  I looked myself in the car mirror to see the gaze of a madman once more.  Hysterically I laughed, harder than before.  My face was drawn and gaunt, my beard beginning to grow thick.  I felt as if I hadn’t eaten in weeks.  That sharp knot in my stomach returning at full strength.  I had been driving in a perfectly straight line across the flat and empty plains.  I assure you not a left nor a right to speak of.  Which is why, when I saw it, peaking through the rain and wind and darkness, just over the horizon, I couldn’t help but begin to sob uncontrollably.  Of course, it was the pizza hut. 

 

I had already been driving nearly 90 miles an hour for days straight now, I couldn’t go any faster in this weather.  I stared at the pizza hut with rage, despair, confusion.  I needed answers.  I flew into the parking lot.  Didn’t park.  Didn’t even turn my vehicle off.  I got out and trudged through the howling wind and stinging rain and pushed that sinister glass door open once more.  The boy was standing right behind the register this time, as if he had been waiting.  I reached out, grabbed his collar and nearly yanked him clean over the counter.  “WHAT IS THIS?  WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?  WHERE AM I?”

 

The boy just laughed, “Why, don’t be silly sir.  You’re at pizza hut!  What can I get ya?”

 

My eyes wide and mouth hanging open I stared down at the young lad.  His demeanor was unshakably chipper even as I held him over the counter, but I could’ve sworn I saw a twinge of mischief behind those cheery eyes.  My stomach growled fiercely.  The painful knots twisting nearly caused me to double over.  I could feel my muscles growing weak from malnutrition.  “So what’ll it be large pepperoni?”

 

I released his collar, letting his feet fall back to the floor.  I hung my head in defeat.  “Yes.  Please.  And a water.”       

I’ve long been fascinated by the phenomenon of anemoia, and find it especially interesting in the cassette futurism aesthetic because it gives me both nostalgia and wonder for a time which I’ve never known but also never truly existed.

Revisiting my favorite barbarian invasion campaign after almost a decade