Chapter 114: Illinois Adventures

Saturday, June 26, 1982

We were in the car and on our way by 7:55am. As predicted, traffic wasn’t bad, and we got to the airport just after nine. About what I’d plan in 2021 for an eleven-fifteen flight, but pretty early by 1982 standards. We breezed through security and were at the gate in no time.

Once there, Angie and I wandered around the airport for a while Mom and Dad stayed put. We had fun browsing the shops and people-watching.

Around 10:40am they called boarding for our flight. We had seats in the middle of the plane. It wasn’t a crowded flight, so we got two rows with aisle-window seating. I took the aisle, Angie the window. I’d flown far more often than she had, of course. Mom and Dad were in front of us.

The flight itself was pretty uneventful. They served lunch, which wasn’t even all that bad. I was mostly used to the more recent airline offerings: soda and peanuts or pretzels. We’d gotten a meal on the flight back from Chicago, but it was still a novelty, relatively speaking.

Landing was just slightly odd. I’d flown into St. Louis several times over the years, but for this me, it was the first time. I pretended to be less familiar with the airport than I was.

It didn’t take us long to fetch our bags, even with the extras, and then we were on our way. Dad had some bad news for us after he’d picked up the keys for the rental car. “They won’t let you drive, kids. Have to be 25. So, just your mother and I.”

“Which means just you, of course,” Mom chuckled.

Dad actually blushed. “Well ... I suppose so.”

“I know you’d rather drive, and you know I’d rather you drive, too.” Mom was chuckling just a bit more.

We lugged the luggage off to the rental car. Dad had gotten something on the scale of our land yachts. There weren’t a lot of options in 1982 that would hold the bags we had. I missed minivans and SUVs for trips like this. A station wagon would’ve been an option, but I don’t think any of us would’ve found it a preferable option.

Once we’d gotten the luggage put away — which still required some trunk Tetris (a reference only Angie would’ve gotten) — we were on the road. We stared at the arch, then at the Mississippi, then settled in to listen to our Walkmen and read.

Three hours and one rest stop later, Dad drove us into Champaign, Illinois, which looked like a stereotypical mid-sized Midwestern city to me. I’d only been there a couple of times before — a football game here, a technical mini-conference there. When we got there, the University of Illinois looked about like I’d expected. Lots of older ornate buildings mixed in with a growing collection of newer, more modern structures. We just drove around a bit, then proceeded into Urbana.

Our hotel certainly fit the description of ‘older ornate building.’ I think all of us stared a bit, even Dad, and he’d booked it. It looked almost like a Tudor castle, or at least an impression of one.

“Wow! That is some hotel,” Mom said.

“The travel agent said we couldn’t miss it. I mean, both that it was eye-catching, and that, if we were going to stay here, this is where we should stay if we wanted something with character,” Dad said.

“It sure has character!” Angie giggled.

“Does it ever,” I agreed, nodding.

We checked in, and, yes, it had just as much character on the inside. Odd staircases, tight corners, ornate carvings. It felt like something out of a storybook. The rooms were smallish but nice enough.

“I’d like to get in a quick nap,” Dad said. “Let’s meet about 7pm for dinner.”

Mom nodded. “Both of us want to!”

“I could do with that, too,” Angie said.

“7pm it is.”

We went into our room and kicked off our shoes. I gave Jasmine a quick call, just to say hi, that we’d made it safely to Champaign, and that I loved her. She returned the sentiment.

After that, we closed the blinds and flopped on the bed. Angie snuggled right up. “Just napping,” she giggled.

“Definitely. It’s not like we did anything, but traveling is still tiring.”

We set the alarm clock for 6:30pm and were quickly in a light snooze.

The alarm got us both moving. We decided to shower, which of course required getting naked. We both did some woo-hooing at each other. Angie had switched from fully shaved to growing a triangle above her pussy.

“Nice look, sis.”

She giggled. “I think so, too. It’s maybe even more work to maintain, but both Gene and Jasmine are pleased with it.”

“I’ve never minded the odd hair in my teeth that much, since it’s in such a good cause, but still.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

We showered, dressed, and were downstairs at 7pm. Mom and Dad arrived before we’d even stood there for a minute.

“Good timing!” Dad said. “We were just talking to the concierge about what we should do tomorrow. We only have until maybe five at the latest, if we’re going to get to Chicago before it’s really late, but if we leave after one we’ll likely get into rush hour up there. So we’ve got most of the day.”

We headed into the restaurant, which tried — and succeeded, in my view — at looking like an English hunting lodge. All four of us ordered steak and potatoes. It would’ve felt just wrong to have much of anything else in a place like this.

The food was good. Not great, but pretty solid. Brennerman’s was better, we all agreed, but we’d have happily eaten here again. Maybe we would, one day.

After dinner we walked out into the mall that was attached to the hotel. Apparently it was one of the first indoor malls in the Midwest, according to the pamphlet I’d picked up in the hotel. None of the stores were familiar to me, though I vaguely recognized some of the names as Midwestern chains.

Everything was about to shut down anyway, so we headed back. All of us were yawning, even with the nap.

“Well, kids, I think we’re done for the night,” Dad said.

“I think I’m just as done,” Angie said.

“Breakfast at eight?” Dad asked.

“Works for me,” I said.

“Me, too,” Angie added.

“Night, kids,” Mom said.

“Night, Mom!” “Night!”

They headed into their room, we headed into ours. Angie started stripping as soon as the door closed. “Just bed,” she said, giggling. “Not kidding. That nap helped, but I’m tired.”

“Me, too.”

She pulled on a new pink camisole. “Like?”

“Adorable. The camisole’s cute, too.”

I got a pillow flung at me for that. “Thanks!” she giggled. “I still have the one from last summer, but it’s a different look now, since I’m a couple of inches taller.”

I stripped down to just my underwear.

Angie grinned. “Tonight’s off. Too tired. Tomorrow? I think on. Biology is going to get inconvenient before we make it to Indiana. On the other hand, no period during the summer program is probably a good thing. One less hassle to deal with around an unknown roommate and all that.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to.”

She giggled and smirked a bit. “Honestly? You’re one of the few guys that I think could handle it at all. Guys are such wimps about periods.”

I shrugged. “I’ve still never had one. I’d probably whine the whole time.”

“Probably, but I can hope you’d do better.” She patted the bed. “C’mon. Bedtime.”

We snuggled up, close.

“I love you, big brother.”

“I love you, little sis.”

“One day...”

“One day.”

“College?”

“I think so. Like we said, just having the opportunity isn’t enough.”

“But it’s a big part.”

“And we’ll have the opportunity then.”

“I know we will.”

“Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Sunday, June 27, 1982

We were up, showered, and ready for breakfast at 8am. Dad had gotten a recommendation for a little breakfast place just up the road, which turned out to be really good. Just a trifle upscale for a college town, it had terrific omelets and biscuits. Everything was locally sourced, something that wasn’t even a thing in 1982 for the most part. Oh, I suppose it was a thing, but not calling it out in the menu and making a big deal over it.