Walk

Let me set the scene. It's twelve, midnight. I have no idea whose house this is, and Dirk is nowhere to be found. Friendless, drunk, and lost amongst a throng of party goers I wont remember by morning. How do I always get myself in these situations?

Out back by the pool are the smokers. Fortunately one of them gives me a cigarette and a light, and I can start to relax. Surrounded by teens (or they look like teens) with drinks, all lost in conversation with their friends. One guy is passed out on a raft in the pool, but falls in when he rolls over to vomit. The teens laugh, exhale smoke, inhale alcohol and continue about their conversation.

Dirk is still nowhere to be found. Walking back into the house I see someone I know, and completely avoid them. Through the kitchen and the dining room, up the stairs, I check the bedrooms. What's behind door number one?: Two guys, one girl, and a blowup doll. I don't remember even checking the second door, but I have a distinct feeling that I have, and that Dirk isn't behind it.

If I knew what city I was in, I would just leave. But I don't know, and I definitely don't have money for a cab. I just moved to this area a few months ago, and so far I don't like it. It's too hot, too humid, and I miss the cool crisp air of home. There's no snow here, hardly any rain. The hills are strange, the people are stranger, and I know only a few of them. Of those people, Dirk is the only one I'm friends with, and has a tendency to evaporate whenever I need him.

As I pass the front window, I spot a couple arguing on the front lawn. She appears to be hassling him for some infidelity, and he looks to be completely oblivious to her point of view. I feel for him. I wouldn't say that's the whole reason, but it sure did give my leaving home a sharp kick in the ass.

At this point I've made a complete lap around the house, no Dirk. One more trip to the back to see if I can grab a smoke before I start wandering the streets looking for a way home. That guy's still in the pool, and isn't moving. Not my problem though, right? I find a guy with a Marines shirt out back with a pack of Reds (my favorite), and show him my father's dog tags, which forever hang from my neck. A couple minutes later and I'm smoking my way out of the house.

This street, which I have no recollection of driving down earlier, has only a few houses on it. All of them are large, and a hell of a lot nicer than my shitty apartment building. I look both ways and see streetlights lining the sidewalk in a straight line until they get consumed by darkness. But I see someone walking the opposite direction a couple blocks down, and start after them.

I had a dollar. Now I don't. The person I saw walking was a bum, and I felt bad. Now I'm in the middle of suburbia with absolutely no money, and no idea which way "home" might be. It's okay though, I don't have many clothes, no other belongings, and didn't plan on paying rent this month anyway. So I walk.

I walk. And walk. Stop in a parking lot with a broken light to take a leak. The buzz is fading. I don't know how long it's been, since I don't own a watch or a phone. I just walk.  It seems like it's been a while though and I haven't seen a single car, parked or otherwise. My aim is questionable, since home is an idea long gone. I contemplate going back to the party to crash someplace with a roof over my head, but I couldn't remember how to get back even if I wanted to. There's an unoccupied bus stop, and that will have to do.

I wake to more hot, humid weather. I've sweat though my jacket already, and it's still early in the morning. Fuck this place, I need to get to the cold.

Some people like the weather here. I don't understand why, really. I just know they like it. I'm not built for it. The heat makes me feel slow, sluggish, drained, and entirely too short of adjectives to describe the distaste for which the heat makes me feel for myself. Here I am, stuck in it. Again, as if having to live out here wasn't enough.

Dirk was supposed to get me a job down at the gas station by the apartment. He knows the owner, or so he says. Any job is fine with me, and gas station attendants get to sit in the air conditioned building for quite a large chunk of their shift. But now it seems that's a moot point. Since I have no place to be, only want to get away from the heat, and don't know what to do other than walk.. I walk.

After what seems like days, I realize I haven't eaten since sometime yesterday. But as I said, I gave my last dollar to the bum. Now I get to beg or work for food. Neither of which are particularly appealing. Being that I still have yet to see a human being since the bum, begging is out; and there's a diner a block down the road that has the first vehicles I've seen since my departure from Dirk's car at the party last night.

An elderly woman asks to seat me. I tell her I have no money, but would be willing to bus tables or wash dishes for a couple hours in exchange for a meal and some coffee. So I'm gloved and washing dishes, which have a never-ending supply, for the next hour and a half.

A cheeseburger, fries, fresh cup of coffee and a glass of water are my payment. They are all consumed in their entirety within five minutes. I had no idea how hungry I was until I took the first bite. The woman looks at me as if I'm a freak of nature, then asks where I'm headed. I don't know, and I tell her as much. She hands me two bottles of water and some sunblock and wishes me good luck. And I walk.

Heat waves ripple over the next crest in the highway. The sun is out in full-force, and I am extremely grateful for the woman's offering. It looks like another town is approaching within my sight, and I figure this is going to have to be my stop for the night. I cannot handle any more of this heat which seems to drain the very essence of my soul from my being.

In the meantime, I'm still drenched in sweat on the side of the road. I'm still hungover, and reveal the contents of my stomach to the rest of the world. I need a cigarette and a shower, maybe some vodka. I'm disoriented and confused.

I wake up in a snowbank, I'm six years old. I've ridden my toboggan down a hill and crashed into a tree. It's getting dark, and I can hear the wolves howling, ready for the night to come. I'm not afraid, my father just gets worried. He even calls me Wolf sometimes because I like to stay out when it's their turn to roam the hills. I walk the half mile or so to our house just in time for frozen dinners to be pulled from the microwave and reruns of classic football games on the television.

A trailer truck rolls past, accompanied by it's roar, and I am on the side of the road. I've fallen away from the road, which is a relief. There's no shade, and I have no idea how long I may have been passed out, but the sun is a little lower in the sky. The town on the horizon is still dauntingly far, and I still feel like I've been trampled by horse. But at least I don't have to vomit anymore.

This town, unlike the previous, is moderately busy. There is both vehicular and foot traffic, although not much of the latter. Alongside the road are fast food restaurants, assorted businesses, gas stations, and a single car dealership. The dealership is my preferred destination. Dealerships have the two things I need at the moment: air conditioning and work. But I look like I threw up then passed out on the side of a highway, so I need to get cleaned up.

The gas station attendant doesn't want to let me use the bathroom, I can see it in his eyes. But I get the key nonetheless. There is a lot to work on. My hair is matted with a concrete of sweat and dirt. My clothes are not in bad shape, but dirty still as well. I clean them as well as I can with hand soap and the small bathroom sink, and hang them over the rail outside to dry. It doesn't take long at all.

Granted I still don't look particularly polished or well dressed, I have an inviting face, and have a newly married couple chatting about their desires for a new vehicle within minutes of being on the lot. I know nothing about these cars except what I was reading on the window tag when they walked over. I tell them of the advantages of having a sedan that gets 32 miles to the gallon while pumping out a more than adequate 250 horsepower, particularly for a young family. My work was almost done for me, these people knew what they wanted before they arrived. But I could see the dealers preparing to make their move on a sale, so I move the couple towards the building and usher them to "Dave here, who will finalize all the paperwork and have you on your way in no time."

Dave looks like an honest man, and I am pleased to find out it's not just an act. After the couple drive off in their new car, he comes to the chair where I've been enjoying the air conditioning, and hands me a hundred dollars. He tells me I did most of the work, and I deserve to be paid at least something, but I need to get out of here before the manager finds out what happened. I thank him and leave.

Now I have money for a new set of clothes, a meal, a hotel room for the night, and a few other items. I start with the clothes. A new pair of jeans and a tee shirt at the thrift store have me clothed and ready to move on to finding hotel room. What I find is a motel, but it's only twenty bucks a night and better than the bus stop. Now for cigarettes and alcohol. Oh, and some food.

Since I realize I am quite hungry, I put the liquor store items on hold and head out to the nearest fast food place. It's a McDonalds. I set out for the next nearest fast food place. Ten dollars and fifteen minutes later I'm completely stuffed and have a half order of fries left for later. The liquor store clerk cards me when I try to pay for my vodka and cigarettes. I'm young, but I don't look it lately. The motel bed beckons to me. I follow its command.

I wake up in the hotel room half naked with a cigarette still burning in the ashtray. The vodka's gone, and so is whoever lit the cigarette. I hope I didn't do anything too stupid this time. But that's neither here nor there. I dress myself and collect my few belongings from the floor. Surprisingly, there's still money in my wallet. I assume this means I wasn't too stupid. I take the room key back to the motel office and once again start to walk.

I see a highway sign that says North, so I follow it. North means getting away from this awful heat. I see nothing ahead of me but some hills and rocks. It looks like I might have to rough it out tonight, so I turn back and get some snacks from the grocery. I walk, and walk, and walk. My feet get sore so I stop for a few minutes then walk some more. Night starts to fall, and I'm almost to the rocks. I get to them and look for an alcove or cave. There's a small inlet in one of the rock faces, big enough for me to  sleep in.

I open the grocery bag and start to munch on the snacks. They're not exactly filling, or healthy in any way, but it's nice to have something so I don't starve out in the middle of this damned heat. I can hear coyotes in the distance. It's the first time I've felt home for years.

Snow falls around the house while the Packers and Chiefs duke it out on the television. I've finished my dinner and want to go back outside. Outside is more fun, there's always something to do. Inside is just the television. But father says no going outside, it's far too late and the wolves will devour me whole. I listen, because I trust him, but I don't want to.

The light wakes me. It falls between the walls of the inlet just in the right place to land on my face. It's blinding, even with my eyes closed. Fortunately it doesn't feel too hot today, and there are clouds on the horizon. My feet have blisters, my legs hurt, and I don't know how far the next town is. I put on my shoes and continue, slowly.

It's been hours without any road signs, vehicles, plant or animal life. Today is cooler than the last few days, but it's still far too hot. I long for the never ending winter, the howl of the wolves. I never intended any of this. I got restless, tired of everything and everyone in my life. My father departing was a huge shock for my entire life. He was the one thing that was always there. But not anymore.

Hours pass by slower and slower until it seems time is standing still, and I am no longer sure if anything I might see will be real or not. The brush in the distance might not be real, the people running towards me probably aren't. But it will go away after I just take a little nap..

I wake from my nap to a faint beeping and a bright fluorescent pain in the eyes. It's not hot at all, even cold.  My head and stomach hurt, and a wave of nausea overcomes me. A nurse walks into what is so obviously a hospital room, and I hadn't put the pieces together yet. Another wave of nausea comes with the realization of my surroundings. The nurse doesn't seem too happy about it at all. She cleans the mess anyway, and leaves without a single word.

The doctor tells me that a couple on their vacation found me passed out on the side of the road, dehydrated and looking like death. He says that this is a new start for me, I should have a new lease on life. I look down to see him place a bible in my lap. Another wave of nausea, but I hold it back. I will be released tomorrow. It's a relief, not that I have any idea where I am or where I'm going. I don't like hospitals, and the sooner I get out of here the better.

A nurse brings in a plate with bread and jello. What the hell kind of meal is that? I eat it despite the slim menu. Looking through the window I can see the sun slipping below the horizon, and I slide under the covers of the hospital bed. My eyes close, and I'm instantly asleep.

I wake to sun passing through the blinds. My clothes are washed, folded, and perched atop the chair next to the bed; the only use the chair's gotten in my 3 days of residency. I dress myself and head for the door. One of the nurses nods her head as I pass her in the hall, points to the exit and smiles. As I approach the doors, they part and I am surprised to find myself in moderate weather. The sun is shining, birds sing in nearby trees, and it's not so hot. I picture this being a nice place to live for most people. But I still feel the need to move on. So it begins again.